#( ok so........................!! do not feel obligated to match length )

[faulknxr]

Five hundred hours. The dawn rises. Agent Faulkner awakens.

The alarm dies before it can even sing its song, the mock mockingbird silenced by a precise tap of an index finger. Faulkner stretches his arms above his head, wrists chained by a bar of light shining through the blinds. A crick pops in his shoulder, and it’s off the bed. He levels and smooths the mattress, leaving no remaining traces of the body that warmed the sheets.

Five hundred zero-two hours. Light breakfast. End-of-season pomegranate arils, almonds, and a green smoothie. Warm up that shoulder. Remove any tenseness or bumps. Five hundred thirty hours. Run.

The track around the agents’ compound glistens with dew. The March sun sluggishly shakes off February’s chill. With every three odd steps, Faulkner’s breath puffs from his mouth in even intervals, blowing out a cottony mimicry of dandelion pappus.

The name dandelion is derived — corrupted — from the French word dent de lion. Lion’s tooth, by the resemblance of the flower’s jagged leaves. Other common names — nicknames, more like — are Blowballs, Witch’s Gowan, and Doom-head-clock.

(¿Diente de léon? Agent Dickinson would argue that naming a flower after its leaves is silly. He'd propose melena de león. Lion's Mane.)

{Gael, the name, has its roots dug into Breton soil, originating from the term gywn, meaning blessed, and hael, meaning generous. Gael, the agent, once declassified his name's Spanish meaning to his primary partner — gracious. Carried overseas, the epithet evolved, a natural synthesis of its attributes.}

((Faulkner, the agent, has not disclosed to his primary partner that an invocation to God resides within the other agent's name, a theophoric appellation like a secret, inlaid jewel. But it's always there, that faint sheen. A golden halo glowing from his crown. The Asteraceae, star-like as they are, would still pull their own petals out in envy of his shining Grace.))

Pick up the pace. The dirt flies off his soles. The world is a tap, tap, tap closer.

Some of the flower’s monikers are pejorative, a warning of the plant’s diuretic properties. Piss-a-bed, from the English; pissenlit, its French equivalent; and in the northern locales of Italy, pisacan. The can, shortened for cane, cagna. Dog. Flowers at the side of pavements, roadkill weeds in America.

Would it be unbelievable to say that a time ago, these flowers were valuable beyond belief?

(Huh, his partner would hum. That’s interesting. Tell me more?)

Of the genus Taraxacum, there lies a descendent named Taraxacum kok-saghyz. TKS. It found its popularity in the Soviet Union during the Second World War, bred in large quantities between 1931 and 1950. As access to Southeast Asian rubber plants was increasingly restricted, TKS was an emergency ration of latex in a world that could end. However, it wasn't only the Soviets who cultivated a colossal mass. The United Kingdom, Germany, Sweden, and the United States bloomed seas over massive hectares, drowning their green fields in white-blooded yellow flowers.

(And now what?)

As the war ended, the programs ceased. The flowers culled. It wasn’t productive to keep going when the costs of upkeep and the yield weren’t as effective as Hevea brasiliensis. The import rate from Thailand and the Dutch East Indies, now known as Indonesia, was matchless for its time. The United States’ rubber industries boomed.

(Me enfada que son tan chuchos los gringos con su pisto... pero buen, los más ricos son los más codiciosos.)

((Faulkner would almost be tempted to agree.))

Many are unaware dandelions are wholly edible from the top of their petals down to their roots. Vitamins A, C, and K dominate its properties; calcium, potassium, iron, and zinc are in superior quantities for the flora to be considered medicinal. In Korean cuisine, 민들레 makes for a zesty salad when fresh or, when blanched, a savory yet refreshing side dish to rice. Agent Faulkner likes the peppery taste, earthy and punchy and fragrantly bitter.

Speaking of breakfast, Agent Faulkner slows down around the trail's bend to check his watch. Five hundred fifty-seven hours. Like a reflex, he unclips his pager from his wristband and sends a short-form message to his primary partner.

146-6837. 98-6. 10-4? 221? 321-630-4125. 53. 960. :)

He purses his lips when there’s no response by six hundred hours, his sneakers crunching through the cold dirt at the final marker of his circuit. Could Agent Dickinson have left his pager by the living room table instead of his bedside? Is he still lost in slumber?

It is six hundred and twelve hours when Agent Faulkner pulls out the leftover bowl of caldo de pollo from his fridge and warms it up on the burner. It’s true what Agent Dickinson has said: the taste is better later; it’s been resting at least eight hours since last night. In turn, Faulkner’s suit jacket also rests, drying on the laundry rack. He’ll get it professionally cleaned tomorrow. The laundromat is unavailable on Sundays.

Standing over the stovetop, Faulkner’s private smile touches the spoonful of hearty tomato broth. The slight curl of his lips is spurred by the memory of Agent Dickinson against his back, at the soft spring of his curls tickling Faulkner’s ear. Last night, he piggybacked the other agent home from the pub. There were apologies for drinking too much, even though Faulkner had advised not to; admittances of gratitude, of Faulkner staying behind even if it interrupted his plotted Saturday night schedule; and a slurred confession, breathed out quiet but unhesitant: just between us, you’ll always be my favorite.

((This Agent’s preference was un-confessed, but Agent Dickinson is his favorite, also.))

There needs no more significant reasoning for how Faulkner feels beyond philanthropy, or as the Greeks call it, ἀγάπη, something universal that bonds the cell of the self in the body of society. It’s the charitable act towards all of humankind that strengthens Faulkner’s arms to carry Agent Dickinson to the man’s quarters. To carefully comb Dickinson’s hair back when the agent sicked in the porcelain repository of his toilet, ferry glasses of water to rinse his mouth.

Selfless admiration washes Dickinson’s face, each stroke an outline to the cordial shape. Frees him from his work clothes. Slip on a light-hued, comfy sweater over lightly scarred, teetering shoulders. The pastel threads bring out the color of rosewood irises ingrained with sleep.

Crouching, Faulkner smooths the sheets, tucking them around Dickinson’s warm, dozing form. He watches for a moment. Magdalene has Faulkner’s sympathies.

((He’d lay his head by Dickinson’s feet, too.))

Comradery tails Agent Faulkner when, at zero hundred hours, he quietly uses his spare key to return to Agent Dickinson’s flat with the finished caldo de pollo and sneaks it into the other agent’s refrigerator, middle shelf. He checks with a single glance into the bedroom to catch Dickinson’s peaceful rest, but the agent’s deeply frowned brows and white-knuckled grip on his sheets say otherwise. Fellowship spectates Faulkner by the man’s bed. He places a cup of water on the bedside table, drapes a note to cover it from dust, and lays two tablets.

Hospitality watches Faulkner’s hand hover over the man, the handkerchief swiping across Dickinson’s creased forehead, gradually erasing every discomfort from whatever plagues his mind. Following several brushes over his skin, the other agent finally sighs, breaking the tautness and loosening his features to rest.

Faulkner silently mirrors the gentle descent of Dickinson’s evened breathing. It seems the nightmare has passed. Faulkner smiles, and Fondness sees him reach to sweep off the matted curls on Gael’s forehead —

“...In-su?”

— Agent Faulkner snaps his hand back, fingers crushing into a fist so quick his joints pop.

Outside of the reverie, the spoon in Agent Faulkner’s mouth rattles against his teeth. The tiniest dribble of caldo spills from the corner of lips like blood, like he’s accidentally bitten his lip or tongue. Before it gets on his pristine white dress shirt, Faulkner mops it up with a napkin.

His watch ticks six hundred thirty hours. The morning brightens. Agent Faulkner exits.

On the way, greetings are shorn short, like buzzcuts. Hello. Has Agent Dickinson arrived? Good morning. Have you seen Agent Dickinson? The launch is at seven hundred hours. Is he there? Please don’t be late? I understand. I’ll get him. Thank you.

The briefing files, snug in a manila folder and cradled against his arm, jostle when Agent Faulkner stops in front of Agent Dickinson’s quarters. Six hundred forty hours. Time has elapsed backtracking to the housing compound. On the way. They’ll look at the files on the way.

“Agent,” Faulkner calls out, punctuating with a single knock at Dickinson's door.

No response is given.

“Agent,” Faulkner repeats with two knocks. “Agent?”

Accordingly, there remains no answer.

Clearing his throat in an undertone, Faulkner pulls out his lanyard hidden in his shirt pocket, drawing the suite’s spare key behind his keycard. Although he doesn’t like to trespass, the situation finds him choiceless. He goes through with it, twisting the key and the knob. The door closes with a subtle click.

“Agent Dickinson?” he inquires.

Hollow thumps creak through the apartment until Faulkner’s footsteps skirt the bedroom’s threshold. The figure within the room stirs, and Faulkner gives him privacy until he hears a hack. He enters the room, already down to a crouch by Dickinson’s side, and pats the other agent’s back through a cough.

When Dickinson quietens, Faulkner speaks. “Hello, Agent. Good to see you. How are you today? I extend my apologies for barging in. Here.” Faulkner moves automatically, dredging his handkerchief from his suit pocket to sop up the water on the other agent’s face.

Once finished with his task, Faulkner stands tall and relays the proper information. Unfortunately, today’s launch has been relocated to Terminal D, the farthest among the launch areas. They will also need to pick up their USFFs on the way. The clock on Dickinson’s table draws ever nearer to six hundred and forty-six hours. Faulkner clicks his tongue.

He’s composed as he explains, “Agent, I regret to inform you we have less than fifteen minutes to launch. Are you able to get dressed soon? We can brief on the way; I have the files.”

who  :  agent faulkner, @faulknxr

where  :  agent dickinson's living quarters

when  :  march 13, 1994, 6:35 AM

The golden light from the spring sun gently spilled into Agent Dickinson’s quarters through a pair of partially closed curtains. In the still darkened expanse of the bedroom, a kaleidoscope of colors danced across the walls, the light shifting between the warm rays of natural light and the prismatic hues not normally seen by the naked eye. The ribbons of colors shimmered and twirled as if dancing, distorted through a crystal glass wind chime that hung across from the apartment’s central cooling vent. The gentle whooshing of the climate-controlled air and the soft tinkling of the translucent glass beads that swayed in the breeze were both drowned out by the incessant treble of a shrieking radio alarm clock that sat atop a cluttered bedside table.

In the queen-sized mattress next to the nightstand, Agent Dickinson let out a strained curse before he pressed his face deeper into the mattress; the pillow that had been his head rest the night before was folded in half to cover both ears in a vain attempt to muffle the sound. While turning off the alarm would be easier than pretending it didn’t exist, the pounding in his head made the very act of reaching out to shut it off seem utterly impossible.

But he knew he needed to get up; he was running late, and Faulkner was waiting.

Dickinson’s heart clenched behind its cage of flesh and bone, erratically thumping out of rhythm, haunted by some peculiar, misplaced pseudesthesia. The fuzzy remnants of a dream—a nightmare, really—clung to the edges of his subconscious. Stubborn and sticky like the seedpods of the burdock plants that grew in the walking trails he and—In-su—Faulkner frequented in the summertime; those barbed spurs that left a penetrating, stinging itch hours after the intrusion had been removed. The burning sensation of the nearly invisible puncture was the only evidence of a wound. A laughable phantom injury that still hurt regardless.

Chuckling cheerlessly, Dickinson squinted at the time displayed on the green digital screen of the alarm clock. 6:38. He was over thirty minutes late. His chest seized up in a bewildering sob that petered off into an equally mystifying series of sniffles. He couldn’t even remember what it had been that had upset him so much, the fragments of the dream vanishing like wisps of smoke, like fog, when he tried to bring them into focus; leaving behind only the heartache and drying tear tracks as proof that anything had terrorized his sleeping mind.

The only thing he could recall with any certainly were the sound of someone crying, bright white lights, and a cacophony of noises in the distance. But that in itself offered very little insight when it came to narrowing down the memory. All things considered.

“¡Ya! cállate,” Dickinson hissed, eyes closed, as he extended his arm to slam the ‘off’ button of the clock but only managed to bump his fingers into cool glass. He bit back another curse, opened his eyes, and lifted himself on his elbows to reach around the obstruction that had been left on his bedside table. Once the shrill wailing had been silenced, once and for all, Dickinson rolled onto his back and stared up at his bedroom ceiling.

The last vestiges of the nightmare had been blown away by the torrential winds of his waking mind, so it would be pointless for him to continue to dwell on it now. But there was something gnawing at the deepest alcoves in his psyche. An animallike dread made his skin break out into gooseflesh and the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. A ghostly chill, a creeping horror that had dug its claws into the core of his being. Dickinson wondered idly who had emerged to haunt his subconscious last night. Which one of the many ghosts that trailed behind him had come seeking their toll for the years he had stolen from them?

The thought sent another pang of melancholy through him. Dickinson pressed his hands to his face in response, trying to clear his mind. If this was the penitence he had to pay for letting Agent Fitzgerald goad him into another drinking contest, then maybe this would finally teach him to stop letting things get this far. Everyone knew Dickinson was a terrible drunk; a lightweight who’d get overly emotional—and then embarrassingly clingy. So if he had to bet, Dickinson would suppose the Fitz got a kick out of seeing him turn into a weepy mess, teary face pressed into the side of one of his usual victims (Faulkner, Whitman, or Hemingway) whose side he’d cling to for the rest of the night.

‘It was Faulkner last night,’ Dickinson thought sluggishly. It was usually Faulkner as of late. And since Dickinson had woken up in his own place instead of being deposited onto someone’s couch, it was the only logical conclusion; his long-term mission partner was the only one Dickinson trusted enough with a key to his apartment, after all. Whitman would probably try to pull a prank (or two) and Hemingway’s susceptibility to peer pressure made him a liability even if Whitman didn’t have a key.

Grumbling with no real heat behind the sound, Dickinson recalled the glass of water that had been left for him on the nightstand, another hint that pointed towards his partner. Sitting up he squinted at the sunlight pouring into the bedroom before he shifted his gaze to the glass and noticed that there was a square of paper placed over it, and two white circular tablets of medicine atop of that. Dickinson snorted as he carefully pinched the aspirin pills between his thumb, index, and middle finger so he could snatch up the handwritten letter between his final two. Popping the medication into his mouth, he brought the note to eye level and blindly pawed for the cup. Sipping on the water, he scanned the note, which read:

Good morning, Agent Dickinson: I hope you slept alright. Please take these pills with food and water. There is a bowl of caldo de pollo in the fridge. Two minutes in the Radarange should suffice. Our meeting time at Briefing Room A is 700 hours. I shall get you by 645 hours if I do not receive a page back by 630 hours. Cordially, Agent Faulkner. P.S. Please do not worry about my suit jacket from last night. I properly rinsed the discharge.㋡

Dickinson choked on his drink, dribbling water onto his chin and chest. Coughing and pounding at his sternum, he placed the glass back onto the bedside table and looked at the time.

6:43.

Faulkner was probably already unlocking the door.

[meropides-head-nurse]

jietang gazed up at the dizzyingly tall and complex architecture of fontaine as he sauntered quietly through the city. he was so distracted, in fact, that he kept accidentally bumping into others or tripping over animals. eventually, however, he ended up bumping into sigewinne, knocking her over and nearly falling over himself. this shook him out of his stupor as he leaned down to help her up.

"oh, archons, i'm so sorry," he apologized, face going pink with embarrassment. "are you alright?"

@skydancer-adeptus (apologies for the yapping, don't feel obligated to match the length, i just get carried away :p)

[Sigewinne fell to the floor, but she quickly got up and cleaned her clothes with her paws/hands. The melusine shook her head, in a way of expressing like if it was nothing when the boy apologized.]

"It's ok, don't worry, accidents just happen sometimes." [Spoke Sigewinne, a warm smile appearing in her face as she looked at the boy, he didn't look like if he was from Fontaine.]

(it's ok dw, I tend to get carried away too, or at least used to, I don't know if I still do)

[awwbuzz]

all was well guidelines

002 // GUIDELINES

community & conduct

REGARDING J.K. ROWLING —

While we use the world & characters created by J.K. Rowling, All Was Well distances itself from her harmful opinions, especially her transphobia, racism, and antisemitism. We’ve tried our best to remove some of the more problematic elements of her lore on site, and encourage and (prospective) members to do so as well. Goblins are no longer a part of our canon, and house-elves have been freed entirely. All Was Well aims to be an inclusive environment welcoming to all, and we have a zero tolerance policy regarding discrimination, bullying, and other problematic behavior.

THEMES & SUBJECT MATTER —

All Was Well is a 21+ site hosted on Jcink Premium. Our rating is set to 3/3/3 meaning we allow the playing of mature and dark subjects, however, the following subjects are not allowed to be played out on our site: rape, non consensual nsfw content, and pedophilia. We also ask that you mind the triggers of our members as well as keep in mind common triggers, and tag them appropriately when they occur.

ROLEPLAYING BEHAVIOR —

We hope that everyone is capable of basic roleplaying etiquette, this is to ensure everything runs smoothly and avoid any conflict between members. Please make sure to tag your content appropriately in post titles, using a [m] to indicate mature threads, and [cw] to indicate content warnings; avoid godmodding, powerplaying, or metagaming in character unless previously discussed; confirm that your writing partner is ok with any possibly triggering subject in a post; and try and match post length as much as you can unless otherwise discussed. Be kind, communicate with each other, and make sure that everyone is on board!

OUR COMMUNITY —

Joining the All Was Well DISCORD is obligated. Our communication and moderation happens through the server, as this is more accessible for everyone to be included. However, you are welcome to turn off notifications except for @ mentions. As for our community, we hope to create a welcoming & safe environment for everyone! We hope that everyone treats each other kindly, plotting flows freely and no one feels excluded, and if there is ever an issue, you feel comfortable communicating this to the staff.

creation & portrayals

REGISTERING AN ACCOUNT —

Before registering a character, please make sure to check our reservations and canons list to avoid any disappointment or misunderstandings. When registering your character, please use the format First Last, with the first initial capitalized. For any spelling errors, please contact the staff to fix it for you!

LIMITATIONS —

Here at ALl Was Well, we assume that you know your own limits and do not take on more than you can chew. There is no limit on the total amount of characters you can play, but only the first four characters are free. After those four characters, we ask that they all have a minimum of five thread posts before you can pick up the next, and so forth. Outside of that, you are not allowed to play more than three major canons total, to ensure they are divided equally between members. We ask that you also do not pick up any characters with close connections to one another, such as playing both Hermione & Harry, or both Draco & Scorpius.

PROMOTING DIVERSE PORTRAYALS —

In order to promote more BIPOC portrayals and gender diversity, the five thread post limit on new characters as referenced above is not applicable provided that the character you pick up is either: black, indigenous (to the Americas, the Caribbean, Australia, Polynesia, Micronesia, and Melanesia), and/or identifies as transgender or non binary.

FACE CLAIMS / PLAY BY’S —

Please make sure to use established public figures to portray your characters, these are people such as actors, models, influencers, and musicians, and should be signed to an official label or agency. Currently we do not allow any faceclaims that are: younger than eighteen, have asked not to be portrayed, are deceased, adult content stars, those accused of either abusive and/or predatory behavior, and those known to be extremely racist and/or queerphobic.

APPROPRIATE CASTING —

When you cast your character, please make sure to keep to keep the following in mind. We use a +10/-10 years guideline for casting face claims in regard to the age of the character they portray, but if your options are incredibly limited (a specific ethnicity, gender identity, etc) we are willing to be flexible with this. However, please message the staff to discuss this first so that we can see if there are fitting options available and sign off in case there are not. We ask that you try your best to keep in mind the face claim’s ethnic background compared to the character. Whitewashing is absolutely not allowed, and we ask that in the case of family connections, you make sure their ethnicity matches as best as possible. We won’t ask you to dive into a face claim’s family history down to percentages, but we do ask that you try to make an accurate casting (i.e. no using Latine and South Asian face claims as biological siblings). Please portray trans / non binary characters and face claims properly. This means no erasing of the face claims identity, and using the proper pronouns. When casting for a trans or non binary character, we prefer the use of face claims that identify as such, but due to the lack of resources, we are okay with cis face claims being used. However, in the case of trans characters, we ask that your face claim matches the gender they transitioned to (so no using a cis man to portray a trans woman, for example).

WIZARDING WORLD DISCRIMINATION —

The wizarding world is very preoccupied with blood politics and the rights of creatures in society, and we find that is enough bigotry for them to deal with. As such, our wizarding world does not include racism, we simply do not allow it to be a thing. When it comes to gender identity and same sex marriage, the wizarding world is also more progressive. Resources are readily and freely available to transition and/or fulfill wishes for biological children, and same sex marriage has been legal for years. There might be some more traditional wixen who still regard this negatively, but it is seen as a very outdated view.

activity & moderation

CHARACTER ACTIVITY —

We have activity sweeps on Discord every month, to check if characters are still participating and have met our requirements. While your focus should always be on real life, we do want to make sure that the site keeps moving and no one is taking up a role they cannot handle. Each character has to have made at least two thread posts that month in order to pass the activity check, and they must post these in the activity check topic on the site itself. If a member fails to meet the activity requirement and has not contacted us regarding a hiatus, their claims will be reopened. The account will be archived for a month before we delete it, and you can contact staff to unarchive it should you wish to reapply. Members can post an absence in Discord if real life is too hectic to focus on roleplay that makes them exempt from this check, and any new members that have been accepted within two weeks of the activity check are exempt from it as well. In order to combat ghosting while having taken characters, we will occasionally check in with members if they disappear for a long period of time without any activity. We also remove members from our Discord if they have been in the server for two weeks or longer without applying / finishing a character for this same reason.

RESERVATIONS —

We allow reservations for face claims, canon names, and occupations. Reservations last a total of seven days after which they will be reopened. The staff offers an extension on reserves of an extra three days, provided you message us before the first reservation has ended. This is to avoid any reservations sitting for a long time without being turned into finished claims.

CHARACTER GRAPHICS —

Don’t forget to add your character’s graphics before submitting them for review. The mini-profile avatar should be 220x450px, the icon avatar is a square image that will automatically resize (but 150x150px is recommended!), and your mood board images should be any square image and will also resize!

SITE MODERATION —

For ease and accessibility, all moderation will happen through our Discord server. We will post announcements, reminders, and acceptances in there, and we have channels to submit finished characters, request topics to be moved or archived, and for thread tags for our members to use. Our server also has a ticket system, where you can make a private channel to message the staff regarding any questions or concerns. This ensures we are all kept in the loop and makes our task easier.

CONTACT WITH STAFF —

We aim to build a good community at All Was Well, but this does not happen without any input from members. Please communicate any possible issues with the staff, don’t let things fester behind the scenes, we are here to help you, but we are not omniscient and might not have noticed an issue! We understand that it can be anxiety-inducing to message us with an issue, especially if your issue is with the staff itself, but it is very important to communicate with us directly to ensure a solution can be worked out. The staff is across different time zones, which means we might take some time getting back to things, so we ask for your patience when it comes to questions and handling certain matters. We are open to constructive criticism and member input, but we do ask that you remain kind in doing so, and remember that the final decision will still be ours.

[smitcr]

𓅖𓆓𓂧𓐦𓀭 ≈ "ꜱᴍɪᴛᴇʀ", "ᴄʀᴜꜱʜᴇʀ".

─ indie rp blog for the ancient Egyptian god, "ᴍᴇᴅᴊᴇᴅ" (mḏd, or metchet). An obscure god of punishment and smiting. Private, Selective, low-activity, lighthearted, & primarily iconless. Sideblog to @bcneheaded. Loved by Emory. * beta only user. Primarily Moonknight related, but otherwise fandomless.

✧ mobile friendly rules + muse info under the cut ✧

RULES:

➤ Well hey! My name is Emory; I’m 27 (they or he please!). Thanks for coming to read this! I’ll try to keep it as brief as I can. This is a selective, low-activity blog for an OC of mine. Created, developed and loved by me! :)

➤ When sending memes/asks please try to specify a muse that you're interacting with if you're a multi-muse blog, otherwise you may be ignored, or I may prioritize others before you.

➤ I work a full-time job, and often struggle with my mental health, as well as deal with chronic pain – I may take a long time to respond both ooc and ic because of this; I apologize in advance. It’s not because I don’t want to write or talk with you, I promise! I’m also quite forgetful, so don’t be afraid to nudge me if I haven’t gotten back to you in a few days time; but on the same breath, please don’t hound me for responses.

➤ This blog is Mutuals-Only. General rule of thumb is that if you're followed by @bcneheaded, then we're mutuals here and on any of my sideblogs that you decide to follow! However, though I'll follow from the main blog to indicate mutuals, you are NOT obligated to interact with the main blog. Similarly, if you follow a sideblog but not my main one, or used to follow the mainblog but soft that one + continue following the sideblog I'll just assume you're still cool interacting from that singular blog.

➤ I’m not follow for follow, so that means I only follow those that I’m interested in writing with! I also read everyone’s rules and character information before following/interacting, and expect the same from others. I won’t follow those without a rules page or a finished (or mostly at least) character info page; I like to know who I’m writing with! I follow from @bcneheaded as that is the main blog this one is attached to. If I believe you haven't bothered to read my information, I'll likely unfollow/softblock you.

➤   I ask you to please do not repeatedly unfollow and refollow me (or likewise like/unlike things) to get my attention; this behavior will result in a hardblock. Please communicate with me if you need or want something.

➤ Triggers will be tagged as trigger tw. Things I need you to tag for me are ped*philia, and emetophobia (irrational fear of v*mit** For me, in example… Saying you threw up is OK, but do not discuss or describe it any further than that please. Thank you.] ) If you deliberately ignore or frequently forget this rule, you will be blocked and anything we have will be dropped.

➤ Quality over quantity! But of course, please don’t give me a sentence in return for a couple paragraphs. On a similar note, I have the tendency to ramble. So please don’t feel the need to match my length if I’ve gone off and made the thread quite long. I’ll be happy with just about anything you give in return!

➤ Ships will be based on chemistry and mun to mun comfort, and are possible here. Though given the nature of the muse, it may be a bit of a long game, or a difficult thing to initiate. Discussion for pre-established relationships of any sort are super welcome and encouraged though! He's never been in love before

➤ I love continuing ask memes as threads and I definitely encourage you to do so if you’d like to. I likely won't offer starters, so these are a great way to break the ice. Just be sure to @ me if you do continue something!

➤ I don’t do drama, so please don’t involve me in it. Any passive aggressive or hateful asks or messages will be ignored and whoever it is sending it will be blocked. The anonymous feature is a privilege, please don’t abuse it.

➤ NSFW content of sexual nature is very unlikely to appear here... but ya never know I guess. NSFW themes may be more likely to appear in terms of DARK themes, as this muse is horror based. (depictions and mention of death, parental death, violence, animal death, etc will all appear here.) But these kinds of things will be tagged as such. The catchall tag will be “ ( horror tw ) ” if it warrants it.

~ These rules subject to change over time, but if/when they do I’ll be sure to make a post about it to let ya know! Thank you for your time; it’s appreciated!

_________________

BACKSTORY:

(X) <-- from here, basic info below.

Medjed is a lesser known Egyptian god that had only been rediscovered recently. Not much is known about Medjed as he was written about on very few occasions, unlike most Egyptian gods who are commonly depicted through art, Medjed only has two known pieces of art depicting him. All of this adds to his mysterious nature.

Medjed as the god of punishment, punishing those who do evil deeds including the gods.

Medjed was rediscovered in the Book of the Dead. Medjed for a long period of time was relatively unknown, no other manuscripts mention Medjed. But in 1910 the Greenfield papyrus, a 121 foot mosaic was discovered with the full appearance of Medjed.

When the Greenfield papyrus was shown off in japan, Medjed grew exponentially in popularity in japan. He quickly became a cult icon.

Appearance

Medjed's appearance is commonly described as unknown or unseen. However in the art depicting him Medjed is depicted as a being with a body of cloth, human feet, and two eyes.

As most Egyptian gods are depicted in a side profile, Medjed's frontward facing depiction alienates him from the rest of the gods even more.

Personality

Medjed is commonly described as strange, his general disposition puts most gods at unease. His presence causes all in his path to freeze in fear.

His relationship with Osiris is more friendly however, the two are on friendly terms as Medjed deals out the Justice onto the dead that Osiris presides over.

Despite his status as a god, Medjed's justice isn't only for humans, as he has fought and killed several evil gods in the past.

Myths and Legends

Medjed is a member of the house of Osiris, his role in Du'at is unknown. However in the Book of the Dead he is described as the smiter, in other translations Medjed was described as being someone with great authority, which has led to the belief that Medjed was a god of justice who dulled out punishment to those who did evil.

[flowerbull]

🌱🌻𝐹𝐿𝒪𝒲𝐸𝑅𝐵𝒰𝐿𝐿🌷🌼 ≈ 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘳… 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘈 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘳.

─ indie rp blog for a minotaur oc. 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐬-𝐀𝐫𝐥𝐨. ( 𝘰𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵… 𝘈𝘙𝘓𝘖. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮.) Private, Selective, low-activity, iconless. Sideblog to @bcneheaded. Loved by Emory. * beta only user.

useful links: memes / opens / interest tracker

✧ mobile friendly rules + muse info under the cut ✧

RULES:

➤ Well hey! My name is Emory; I’m 27 (they or he please!). Thanks for coming to read this! I’ll try to keep it as brief as I can. This is a selective, low-activity blog for an OC of mine. Created, developed and loved by me! :)

➤ When sending memes/asks please try to specify a muse that you're interacting with if you're a multi-muse blog, otherwise you may be ignored, or I may prioritize others before you.

➤ I work a full-time job, and often struggle with my mental health, as well as deal with chronic pain – I may take a long time to respond both ooc and ic because of this; I apologize in advance. It’s not because I don’t want to write or talk with you, I promise! I’m also quite forgetful, so don’t be afraid to nudge me if I haven’t gotten back to you in a few days time; but on the same breath, please don’t hound me for responses.

➤ This blog is Mutuals-Only. General rule of thumb is that if you're followed by @bcneheaded, then were mutuals here and on any of my sideblogs that you decide to follow! However, though I'll follow from the main blog to indicate mutuals, you are NOT obligated to interact with the main blog.

➤ I’m not follow for follow, so that means I only follow those that I’m interested in writing with! I also read everyone’s rules and character information before following/interacting, and expect the same from others. I won’t follow those without a rules page or a finished (or mostly at least) character info page; I like to know who I’m writing with! I follow from @bcneheaded as that is the main blog this one is attached to. If I believe you haven't bothered to read my information, I'll likely unfollow/softblock you.

➤   I ask you to please do not repeatedly unfollow and refollow me (or likewise like/unlike things) to get my attention; this behavior will result in a hardblock. Please communicate with me if you need or want something.

➤ Triggers will be tagged as trigger tw. Things I need you to tag for me are ped*philia, and emetophobia (irrational fear of v*mit** For me, in example… Saying you threw up is OK, but do not discuss or describe it any further than that please. Thank you.] ) If you deliberately ignore or frequently forget this rule, you will be blocked and anything we have will be dropped.

➤ Quality over quantity! But of course, please don’t give me a sentence in return for a couple paragraphs. On a similar note, I have the tendency to ramble. So please don’t feel the need to match my length if I’ve gone off and made the thread quite long. I’ll be happy with just about anything you give in return!

➤ Ships will be based on chemistry and mun to mun comfort, and are possible here. Though given the nature of the muse, it may be a bit of a long game, or a difficult thing to initiate. Discussion for pre-established relationships of any sort are super welcome and encouraged though! He's never been in love before

➤ I love continuing ask memes as threads and I definitely encourage you to do so if you’d like to. I likely won't offer starters, so these are a great way to break the ice. Just be sure to @ me if you do continue something!

➤ I don’t do drama, so please don’t involve me in it. Any passive aggressive or hateful asks or messages will be ignored and whoever it is sending it will be blocked. The anonymous feature is a privilege, please don’t abuse it.

➤ NSFW content of sexual nature is very unlikely to appear here... but ya never know I guess. NSFW themes may be more likely to appear in terms of DARK themes, as this muse is horror based. (depictions and mention of death, parental death, violence, animal death, etc will all appear here.) But these kinds of things will be tagged as such. The catchall tag will be “ ( horror tw ) ” if it warrants it.

_________________

~ These rules subject to change over time, but if/when they do I’ll be sure to make a post about it to let ya know! Thank you for your time; it’s appreciated!

xxx —credit to @/rpiconsgalore for the banners and page break(s)!

BACKSTORY:

So she raised him like he was her own. And watched as he grew and grew and grew... He wasn't human, and he wasn't a bull... But whatever he was, he was her little boy and she was his mama... and she loved him very much. And it showed in the way he was raised. She taught him what it was to be loved and how to love in return, she taught him how to be gentle, and how to stand his ground when necessary, and when to run away. She taught him that he was different, that people might be afraid of him and it was safer to avoid strangers... but perhaps even more importantly, she taught him that although he was different, and others may hold fear over him through not understanding those who are different.... she taught him that there was nothing wrong with him.

There once was a german woman who was tired of her life. So she moved far, far away and started a new life, far from the cities and lights and convenience and into a life of calluses, sunburns, and cold nights. But she loved it, she did. It was everything she'd ever wanted, even if it was a difficult life-- all but living off the grid.

One day, she found something in the far edges of her field... She heard what she thought was a calf crying out for it's mama. And it was-- or so she thought. Until she got up close and held the poor thing in her arms. She didn't know what he was, this creature that had the head of a cow, and bend legs like one too -- but the body shaped like a child. A human. It mewled desperately in her arms, eyes still blue and unseeing in their newness. She looked around for days for the things mother, tried laying bait and asking around town if anyone had seen any odd creatures or stray cows, even... but to no avail.

Arlo loves music, westerns (like his mama), strawberries, and ranch animals. He was just a little boy that was different, helping his mama tend to the ranch and snuggling up with his stuffed animals when it came time for bed. One day, as life does... His mama got sick. He tended to her, and loved her in her final days, and when she didn't get better and died... he buried her out back, under the tree they'd spent so many afternoons reading comics and eating apples under.

He eventually got too big for the house, so squeezing in one last time, he grabbed what he needed (knocking a few things over unfortunately)-- a picture of him and his mama, his stuffed cow she'd made him when he was small, some clothes.... The essentials. And he moved into the old barn out back instead.

He's lived there by himself ever since... He still tends to the farm, bales the hay and harvests the crops, feeds the chickens and cows until they got too old and died too. And now... he's alone, mostly. Chickens were easy to tend to and breed, so were the goats. So now, if you walk a few miles out of your way, you might find this property... thriving somehow, under the watchful eye of what would appear to be in the distance to any unknowing traveler to be a large bull, laying down in the grass far away. Protecting his mama's house, and the things he loves.

He's a good boy man. He's gentle, and caring, and smart and full of life and love for life.... but he's also big, strong, and scary. Very scary. And extremely protective of the property. Nobody bothers him though, usually. He's had to defend himself once or twice... unfortunate as it was. But for as terrifyingly large and powerful a creature he is, he is good. His mama's love made him so. You can find him in his barn sometimes, listening to his radio, reading old comics, sitting on his bed he made. He's lonely... but it's okay. It's for the best, he thinks.

[musaics]

@luaraes​, Hinata:

𝙴𝚈𝙴𝚂      𝙼𝙰𝙳𝙴      𝙾𝙵      𝙼𝙾𝙾𝙽𝙻𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃    went  wide  at  his  statement,  feeling  her  cheeks  heat  up  at  the  kindness  of  his  gesture.  ❛                Chouji-kun!  Y-you  didn’t  have  to…                    ❜    she  exclaimed  softly,  trying  not  to  wake  the  sleeping  toddler  in  her  arms  ━━━━━━  Mirai  had  been  quite  fussy  that  day,  and  not  having  Kurenai  at  home  had  made  the  young  girl  even  more  irritable,  though  Hinata  and  Chouji  slowly  managed  to  calm  her  down  enough  for  the  toddler  to  take  a  well  deserved  nap.  Gently,  the  Heiress  maneuvered  the  child  so  she  could  take  the  tea  her  friend  had  so  graciously  made  for  her  ━━━━━━━━  Hinata  wondered  how  Chouji  still  found  time  to  come  and  help  Kurenai  with  Mirai,  after  all  from  what  she  had  heard,  the  Akamichi  restaurants  were  becoming  more  and  more  popular  these  days.  ❛                Thank  you,  Chouji-kun.                    ❜    she  smiled  up  at  him,  that  same  soft  and  angelic  smile  she  gave  everyone  she  held  dear.

The  Hyuuga  Heiress  refused  to  admit  how  tired  she  was,  the  preparations  for  her  to  assume  the  mantle  of  Head  of  Clan  were  gruesome,  but  her  father  was  ready  to  step  down  ━━━━━━  concept  that  terrified  her,  for  deep  down  Hinata  still  felt  like  that  frightened  little  girl  she  used  to  be.  But  she  didn’t  feel  it  was  right  for  her  to  complain,  not  when  her  friends  seemed  to  be  doing  and  acomplishing  so  much  more  than  her.  ❛                How  are  the  restaurants?  Hanabi-chan  tells  me  they  are  even  more  popular  nowadays.                    ❜    one  of  the  downsides  of  preparing  to  become  Head  of  The  Hyuuga  was  the  fact  that  Hinata  hardly  had  time  to  go  outside  and  to  learn  what  went  on  in  the  village  ━━━━━━  thankfully,  she  had  Hanabi  to  keep  her  informed.  ❛                I  hope  you  aren’t  working  yourself  to  the  bone,  Chouji-kun.                    ❜

              “You’re welcome,” Chouji responds in a hushed tone, not wishing to wake Mirai.  He mirrors the Hyuuga’s warm, gracious smile.  “I figured you could use it— Ermm, Mirai’s been extra cranky today.”

        That, and the tiredness the Hyuuga displayed did not go unnoticed by the Akimichi.  While he did not really keep up with clan politics— much to his father’s dismay— He did know that Hinata would soon take over as the head of the Hyuuga clan.  Wow!  Chouji did not envy her sudden gain in power; Running a clan was not an easy task.  But he did worry for Hinata; That was so much responsibility placed on one young person’s shoulders! If it was tough for his father, a seasoned leader, he couldn’t imagine what challenges laid ahead for Hinata— For someone considered so soft and kind. .

         . . Kind of like he was.  They were people with a lot of heart to give. Yes, he did worry for her, but he also greatly admired her.  She was going to be soft and kind— Things great leaders were not known for.  But Hinata would be well-known; Chouji was sure of it. And that—

              “’M sorry— What?”  It was now that his mind had finally processed that Hinata had spoken to him.  His face flushes with embarrassment, realizing that he had not caught a word she’d said because he’d been busy thinking about her.  And he blurts out the words before realizing how strange they may sound. “S-Sorry, Hinata-chan, I didn’t catch what you said.  I was too busy thinking about you.”

[cestlemoment]

@haduolo  cont. 

     here’s the thing:  he cares quite little about his own studies at this point, he has already done most of this semester, and it’s only this semester he has to finish.   all lucas has to do is ask and he will be there,  he needs anything but the same old routine of the same people, over and over, of ade calling him and texting him and trying to get him to go somewhere beside his kitchen.  he doesn’t really want to hang out with ade these days.   and so an arm is around lucas’ shoulders,  obviously, to move a bit closer to read the list on lucas’ phone, but more importantly, it’s to see lucas’ face better.   ❝ okay,  tu me montes ce film. ❞    he likes to hear lucas’ voice.  and as long as lucas’ flatmates don’t interrupt them, he might be able to sit this close to lucas the whole night.  he would like that.   ❝ hmmm, titanique? oui. j’adore. ❞   he murmurs as lucas lists off movies. who doesn’t love titanic?   and if they watch titanic,    he’s scheming. no, that sounds bad. he just wants to be close to lucas.            ❝ tu as ecrire les notes très détaillé ? ou,  les notes occasionnel ?  ❞     his fingers brush lightly over lucas’ shoulder where his hand rests, as he pretends to think about which movie he’d like to watch.    (he’s already made up his mind, but lucas doesn’t know that.)   

      ❝ mais, titanique,  s’il vous plait?  j’aime leo dicaprio. ❞     lucas, understand, please?    i’m into leo dicaprio, like  --- into leo dicaprio.   like ━ into you.    ❝ oui? titanique? très bon pour le film romantique, beaucoup de romance. ❞     he wants to write about how he feels right now, because he feels,  and it’s a little overwhelming but it’s so nice because he thought he’d lost some of his feelings, that he’d gone numb and lost parts of himself permanently to the void inside his mind.   he’s not sure every feeling inside his chest, inside his lungs, etching itself inside his veins, but he certainly likes it.    but lucas asks him a heavy question, a question that actually shows how a person’s worldview is, and maybe, he thinks, and he’s going to get caught in his own mind if he keeps down this path,  he thinks that a person’s answer to this sort of question reflects how much of the world they still see as good.  how much of it has not been tainted by their own life experiences.  unfortunately, eliott has had a bad year. 

        but,   ❝ um,  je pense ━ ❞   he tosses a few answers around in his head, and shifts a little, so his side rests against lucas’ arm a bit more, his fingers don’t stop tracing the same line on lucas’ shoulder.   ❝ tu peux être créateur de ta vie.  uhh,  les filmes romantique ne sont pas realité mais, ils nous donnent le romance nous veulent. ou,  ❞   he feels a bit -- out of sorts, a bit like he’s not making as much sense as he thought he was.    ❝ ils ne sont pas realité mais ça va. le romance de les films romantique est ━ ❞   he’s rambling, and he knows that people hate it when he rambles, but he might be kind of staring at lucas now, and he’s not thinking about other people, just lucas.  ❝ très vite, est malsain parfois. le romance en realité est plus lent, et c’est okay.       un personne ne tombe pas amoureuse en un jour. ❞      maybe,  you fall in love in a week. two weeks, maybe.  who knows, there are many people who claim love at first sight, like in movies, is real.   

[imsorryitsallmyfault]

Magic Does[n’t] Exist

@dearlokigodofmischief

After her last encounter with Loki, all Kanaya wanted to do was run and get herself as far away from that man and whatever he did that caused her such a headache. As much as she had been drawn in by a seemingly insatiable, and somewhat morbid, curiosity, the kind of pain his presence speared into her head was just too much. 

On top of that, she didn’t know how much more her heart could take.

It was the kind of sudden and intense ache that couldn’t be hidden from a person’s body language, nor could it be masked in a person’s face. It was so obvious, in fact, that the man had taken the initiative to walk away first, before her condition escalated too far. After he had distanced himself from her, Kanaya had a chance to pull herself together enough to walk back to the crappy rent-a-room place she had been staying in for a few days. 

The plan was to grab whatever belonged to her, stuff it in a bag, and head out on the first bus out of town, but the girl was just so damn wiped that she couldn’t do much more than throw her stuff on the bed, push it over just enough for her to fit, curl up on whatever little bit of space she had left for herself, and crash. 

That was basically how her next few days were spent: get up, gather things, get ready to go, crash, get up, gather things, get ready to go, crash, repeat. As much as she really, truly wanted to leave, she just couldn’t shake the lethargy enough to do more walking than to and from the bathroom. Even the thought of doing something like getting dressed or brushing her hair took more energy than she had. 

On top of all of that, she still couldn’t shake that image of herself with a knife buried in her chest. 

Regardless of whether or not she believed in fate - which she didn’t - there had to have been some reason Kanaya was losing more sleep than usual over this. 

Once she finally felt well enough to leave, instead of getting herself a one-way ticket out of there, as she had so frequently promised herself over the past two weeks, the psychic found herself standing in front of the same exact Starbucks, glancing inside for the same exact person, mentally preparing herself for-

Oh thank god he’s not here.

         Did I miss him?

A glance up at the clock on the wall dashed that idea pretty quick.                       

           Does he still come here?

Well, the barista was running through a list of regulars that would be coming in during her shift, so that wasn’t an issue either.

                   Should I wait? Come back later?

Her legs still felt a little weak, so that answered that.

She sat there for a while, waiting for him to come by and hoping that she could hold herself together long enough for that. At some point, she began writing notes on a napkin, jotting down a question or two, drawing and redrawing a crude likeness to the image she couldn’t forget, fighting to keep her nerves down.

Judging by the barista’s clientele list, he shouldn’t be that far away. In fact, looking at the time -

                                     He’s near. 

 She could feel him. It wasn’t hard to pick him out as his presence drew nearer to the building. He was far enough away that she could slip out of here and pretend it never happened and he wouldn’t know she was ever there. This was a bad idea anyway. She had no business being here, trying to reach out when she clearly was just causing more trouble.

No. She needed to know what this was all about.

                                No she didn’t. This is being nosy. Nobody likes nosy.

     But this is about her life.

                                                    It’s his life too.

                      This is a bad idea.

Crumpling up most of the napkins she had scribbled on, Kanaya forced herself to flee. This was far too much stress for her, probably for him too. Besides, if she was going to slip out, she had to go now. 

Rushing out of the building, she hurriedly threw the napkins in the direction of the trash can, not even waiting to see if they had made it in. 

Head tilted down, she bid her legs move as fast as they could carry her. It didn’t even matter what direction she went in. She’d figure it out once she was at a safe distance for her mind to relax.

[mindninjax]

Heat of the Moment

Pairing: Tobio Kageyama x Reader (College AU)

Rating: Explicit (18+ minors do not interact)

Warnings: virgin!Kageyama, sex, virgin sex, nipple play, condom sex, Y'all it's pretty tame ok. It's wholesome sex

Word Count: 2.6K

a/n: HERE IT IS CEE! @spacelabrathor I PROMISED YOU A KAGS FIC AND IT'S HERE. Here he is in all his cute, dumb, awkward, blunt (but still a fucking prodigy at everything he does) glory! ALSO FOR YOU some Atsumu slander bahahah. (No one come for me I love Atsumu but like... come on, mans is a little asshole) ANYWHOO This is supposed to serve as a little continuation to my first Kags fic So I hope you enjoy! Also s/o to my love @dymphnasprose for always dropping sweet yummy Tobio thirsts in my DMs and making me absolutely feral for this man. I love you forever baybeeee

“I want to have sex.”

He’s decided, made up his mind, the decision is final, no more going back and forth. Steely blue eyes gauge your very surprised expression as you lay on your belly on his bed, feet kicking the air as you read a book. Your eyes widen in surprise as you take in your boyfriend’s expression.

“What?” you ask, chuckling and pulling yourself up to sit and give him your full attention.

“I want to have sex with you.” He repeats it, confident and reassured that it is exactly what he wants as he looks into your eyes. When you raise a questioning brow, he stomps over to the bed to sit beside you and place a hand on the small of your back.

“Tobio, is this about what Atsumu said last week?”

You know how much Atsumu is able to get under his skin. He teases him constantly about being a virgin after Tobio accidently and drunkenly let it slip that he hadn’t done anything with you other than heavy petting and heated make out sessions. Atsumu has teased him since then, making jokes about one day stealing you from him so you could be with someone with experience. As if you’d leave Tobio for Atsumu. Yeah right.

“You know I’d never leave you for him, right?” you say looking into his eyes with a worried expression. His cobalt eyes gleam back at you, getting momentarily lost in your beauty before he scowls again.

“It has nothing to do with that piss-haired loser!” he says defensively. He knows you wouldn’t leave him, especially not for Atsumu, but he can admit—only to himself—something else Atsumu said is what helped him make his decision.

There’s nothing better than seeing a woman come undone around you. You look at her face and see her pleasure and know it’s all because of you and you feel invincible.

Tobio swallows hard when he pictures for the fifth time tonight your face twisted in pleasure. You gasping and moaning his name like the woman in the porn he watched for reference last night. His hand moves to rub your back seductively and his expression softens.

He really does love you, you’ve put up with so many of his mood swings, supported him at every game, even helped him with homework is some of his toughest classes.

“I just want to be able to make you feel good. I know you’ve had sex with other guys before me, but I wanna be the one who made you feel the best.”

You crawl into his lap, straddling his muscular thighs and draping your arms around his neck to plop a kiss onto his surprised lips. The tiny lounge shorts dig into your thigh as you look at him through your lashes and he digs his fingers into your plump ass. He intakes a breath when you grind on the bulge in his pants and his eyes grow wide.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” you say, a sultry smile working it’s way onto your face. “But I won't say no to you trying.”

You kiss him, grasping his silky jet black locks and plunging your tongue into his mouth. Both his large hands grasp your ass as you grind down harder on the growing bulge in his pants.

Tobio always gets a boner when the two of you make out, but to feel how warm you are and how close your pussy is to his dick, it makes him grunt into your mouth. He leans back on the bed, flopping onto his back as he holds your waist and balances you atop of him.

You continue kissing him, purring and humming against his lips, and when you pull back to look him in the eye, a string of spit keeps the two of you connected. He looks at you in earnest, biting his lip and trying to focus on your pretty face instead of the ache in his shorts.

“Ok so should I fuck you now? Why are our clothes still on?” He asks with complete seriousness and you snort. Your world shines brighter due to his absolute lack of tact, and he frowns when he thinks you’re making fun of him.

“What?” he grumbles.

“That’s something Atsumu won’t tell you, probably because he sucks at it. There’s a beautiful thing called foreplay and you’re going to learn it,” you say as you smile against his lips and run your hand down his chest.

“From a woman no less, which means…you’ll already be ahead of the game.” You grind your hips down upon him again and he’s too late to stop the groan that tumbles from his pink lips.

You smirk then roll to the side to move off of him and he rises up in shock, eyes wide and worried. But he holds his breath when he sees you standing and removing your shirt and shorts before you look over your shoulder at him.

“Well, I can’t be the only one undressed.”

Tobio quickly sheds his shirt and shorts, sitting clad only in his tight compression underwear on the bed. He stares at your bra and underwear, eyes drinking in every deep curve, the swell of your breast, and how the thin twine of the straps of your thong sit on your hips.

His fingers fist into the sheets of the bed and his cock twitches at the mere sight of you. He can’t remember how he got so lucky but he smiles smugly to himself when he pictures the surprised look on Atsumu’s face when he finds out.

You tiptoe over to him sitting on the edge of the bed and push his thighs apart to stand between them. He wraps an arm around your waist and cranes his neck to look up at you. You run a hand through his hair, pushing it from his forehead. His long fingers trace down the curve of your back and you sigh at his touch. He places his forehead against your stomach and closes his eyes.

“Your skin is so soft. I want to kiss it,” he mumbles. You chuckle as you continue rubbing his hair.

“So why don’t you?” He opens his eyes and obliges, placing his lips against your stomach. You sigh again as he kisses down your stomach and stops at the hem of your underwear. His hands are on your hips now, digging into your skin and fiddling with the straps of your panties. He’s so eager, the excitement he usually saves for the volleyball court oozing out of him as his piercing gaze asks you for permission.

You give a curt nod and he loops his long fingers through the skimpy string of your panties and slowly pulls them down your legs. When you’ve stepped out of them and he’s face to face with your pussy, he gasps in amazement. He takes a few moments to look over you, his hands running up your thigh before he continues his path of kisses from your stomach down to your clit. He stops suddenly when you whimper and his eyes are wide with panic.

“Sorry, is that bad?” he asks in a small voice. You don’t realize your eyes are closed until you open them to see his eyes panic stricken expression. You rub his hair gently and give him a reassuring smile.

“Nope, it’s actually really really good. Aren’t I the lucky one to get a guy who doesn’t have to be told to kiss my pussy,” you say laughing. Tobio smiles up at you as well, now more calm by your relaxing tone.

“Can’t help it when it’s that pretty.”

He pulls you down on top of him and you squeal as you straddle his waist. He lays on his back, massaging your hips as you mount him. You reach behind your back to unhook your bra and his eyes grow even wider as your tits fall. You always knew Tobio was a boob guy, but the way he’s looking at you now, mouth slightly agape as he licks his lips, definitely cements that fact.

His cock twitches in his underwear and you give him a quick kiss before shimmying down his body to free him from his cotton prison. You’ve never seen Tobio naked before. You’ve felt his impressive length through his pants when you two have fooled around and fantasized about how pretty it would be when you finally witnessed it but like always with Tobio, it's better than you expected.

He’s not too long but he’s quite thick. He's already dripping precum and it leaks onto his belly when it pops free; the tip is a beautiful plush pink that matches the flush of his skin when he sees you staring hungirly at it.

When you bring it to your lips and lick the tip, he groans loudly and clutches the sheets on the bed tightly. “Wait…I almost…” he grunts through his teeth. You look up at him apologetically. A blowjob probably isn’t the best idea for his first time, but you definitely make a mental note to suck him off some time soon. The man’s cock is way too pretty not to be in your mouth.

“Sorry,” you say before moving back up his body to kiss him passionately. He grunts into your mouth as you bite his lips. His hands tangle in your hair and he ruts against your ass in anticipation. When he moves to bite your neck you moan and whisper his name.

“S’okay. I wanna...suck…” he grunts, pawing at your breast as he nibbles and licks your neck. He sounds like he’s asking permission and you breathe out a quick, “yes” before rising up to sit on his lap.

You can feel his heart speed up, thrumming underneath you as he raises and pulls your body flush to his. You feel his long lashes flutter against your chest before he latches to your nipple and groans deeply. You’re not sure how he knows exactly what to do but your pussy grows wetter with every flick of his tongue on your skin.

“Mmm Tobio, you’re so good at that,” you moan and you can tell he likes the praise. He flexes his hips up into you, grinding against your ass and you moan again desperately as blood pumps straight to your cunt.

Tobio continues licking and sucking your nipples, moving from each one to give them equal amounts of attention, but when he bites down and sucks like he’s pulling something from you, you throw your head back in bliss, a loud shrill whimper bursting from you.

You’re ready now, your body vibrating with anticipation. You push him to flop on his back again, lean over to open the desk drawer, and grab a condom. You quickly rip it open with your teeth, pull it out in one quick motion and roll it slowly down his length.

He watches in amazement, you’re a pro at this. How on earth were you able to make opening a condom that sexy? You lock eyes with him now as you hover above his dick and his chest heaves up and down. He thinks once again about how lucky he is, how gorgeous you are, and how much he can’t wait to see your face when you’re coming on top of him.

“Don’t be nervous baby,” you purr as you line the tip up with your pussy. Even through the condom he can feel how warm you are, and he has to take deep breaths and focus on not finishing too early.

“Don’t you wanna make me feel good?”

He grits his teeth as you sink slowly down onto him. You spread around his length and he watches in awe as you take him. You both cry out when you’ve sunk all the way down on top of him and your walls are fluttering as you become accustomed to him.

Tobio’s eyes are squeezed shut, he’s panting trying desperately not to think about how fucking warm and tight you are. He can feel you clenching, feel you caress his cock and he can’t imagine how good it would feel if the condom weren’t between you two. His hands are digging into your hips, leaving marks as he concentrates on holding in the cum he wants to shoot into you.

“Shit…is it always like this?” He grunts as he looks up at the ceiling.

You chuckle as you run your hands up your body, massaging your own tits and pinching your nipples. You lean down to whisper in his ear.

“No, it’s even better without a condom,” you smirk and he gasps at the thought. You lift your hips then, placing your palms on his broad chest and balancing yourself to hover over the tip before plunging down onto him again.

You continue rocking your hips and bouncing on him and he swears he can see stars. He grunts and moans, gasping as you draw circles with your hips on his cock. He remembers how good you are at dancing and isn’t surprised at how well you ride him.

“Fuck...shit this feels so good,” he groans and momentarily open his eyes to watch your lovely face. Your eyes are lidded and you’re biting your lips in concentration, a seductive smile playing on the edge of your lips.

“You’re doing so well baby,” you coo. You’re impressed, he’s lasted far longer than you thought he would, but then again Tobio’s always had great stamina.

Your ass slaps against him, bobbing like the first time he saw you twerking and it only makes him buck up into you more. Your tits are bouncing as the room fills with the sultry sound of slapping skin. He bites his lip as he feels his insides tighten, a pressure building in him as your pace quickens.

Your moans are loud, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure and when you whimper his name, it feels like he’s on the court. His instincts kick in and he flips you on your back. He pulls your body close to his and looks into your eyes before he plunges into you.

The new position allows him to hit an angle no guy you’ve been with has ever been able to hit and you cry out in ecstasy. He pumps into you desperately, kissing you and watching as your eyes start to roll to the back of your head. He feels so good inside you and he’s so close his arms and legs are starting to shake.

He watches as you bite your lip, scream his name and clench so hard around him he doesn’t have to be a pro to know you’ve just come. He smiles a cocky smile to himself before a guttural growl breaks from him and he spills a thick load of cum into the condom. So Atsumu was right about that. There’s nothing better than seeing you scream his name and watch you come undone because of him.

He stays embedded in you for a few minutes as both of you twitch and come down from your high. His head rests in your neck and when he’s finally caught his breath he flashes you a cocky smirk. You giggle and roll your eyes, not needing to hear him say anything.

“How the fuck did you do that?” you ask as he pulls out of you and removes the condom.

“I don’t know, my body moved on it’s own I guess,” he shrugs as you take the condom from him, tie the end and dispose of it. You kiss him on the lips and shake your head with a smile.

“Should’ve known you’d be a goddamn prodigy at it.”

Tobio pulls you back into his arms to hold you and bask in the after sex glow. He’d finally done it and he’d managed to get you to come too. A prodigy you’d called him. This was definitely something he’d “accidentally” share with Atsumu next time.

--

Thanks for reading!

[tothemeadow]

ok so can I get a scenario with a sub fem reader getting railed over Muichiro’s desk I’d say more but I’m in a rush thank you for your time

‘game on’ / Tokito M. x Reader

warnings: NSFW, oral sex, unprotected sex, almost exhibitionism?, Mui is a little shit

words: 1,320

(a/n): Muichiro is 18+ in this

-

“Jesus, guys, cover my fucking six, won’t you?”

“Maybe if you didn’t run right into enemy territory you wouldn’t die so fucking fast.”

“Right? Fucking scrub. Think about the rest of us!”

At that, Muichiro rolls his eyes. The others bitching at him through his headset are getting way too annoying. Well, they were always annoying to begin with, but he needs some sort of team to level himself up, you know? Still, he charges forward since he’s the one carrying this team. Fingers poised over the WASD buttons and hand gripping onto the mouse, Muichiro’s in the perfect state for complete concentration.

The thing is… Well, he isn’t concentrating.

Granted, he’s still better than the others despite his… problem.

Glancing downwards, he’s greeted with the sight of his bare thighs and your pretty head nestled between his legs. Your eyes are closed, eyelashes kissing your cheeks; it’s those very cheeks that are hollowed around his cock, wrapping around him in a wet heat that’s to die for. Perhaps you feel his stare – your eyes crack open and meet his darkened gaze, flick over his flushed features and the delightful pout of his bottom lip.

He bites back a groan as your tongue flicks his glans before it travels the length of the prominent vein on the underside of his cock. The slurping noises breaking free from your puffy lips are enough to spur him on him further. Fuck, he’d love nothing more than to hold your head in place while he drove his cock deep into your slutty throat, make you choke while he shoots his load into your mouth.

Fuck, you’re so sexy that it’s driving him nuts. For a brief moment, his hand leaves his mouse, opting to caress your cheek instead. Good girl, he mouths down at you. Suck.

“Oi, Misty, you still there, man? You went silent.”

Mumbling a curse, Muichiro’s hand leaves your cheek and he clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m here. I just got… distracted.”

“Jesus, dude. One minute you’re bitching at us to cover you and then you say you’re distracted? What the hell, man? Get your head out of your ass!”

“Suck my dick,” Muichiro spits.

“Already doing that,” you murmur, drawing away from his cock and pressing your lips to his balls instead.

Muichiro’s teeth clamp down on his bottom lip as another moan threatens to burst from his throat. Shit, it’s too good, so fucking great that his head’s gonna explode (that, or his insides – whichever comes first).

“Uh… You okay, man? You don’t sound too good.”

“Seriously? You’re taking his side? What about the match?!”

“Mui,” you purr, skimming your nails against the insides of his thighs, “I can hear your teammates through your headphones. It sounds like they’re giving you a hard time.” And, as if your pun couldn’t be timed any better, your hand wraps itself around his cock and starts jerking him off in a languid, steady pace.

“Fuck yeah,” Muichiro grunts, thighs subconsciously spreading further apart.

One of his teammates on the other side of the line stammers. “What the fuck was that?”

“Christmas - don’t you know when to shut up?” Muichiro snaps. “All you know how to do is suck at a damn MMORPG and bitch about everything.”

“You fucking twat-“

Before he has the chance to finish, Muichiro throws off his headset and leans back in his chair. “You see what you did?” he drawls, peering down at you through heavy lashes. “Now my gaming buddies are all pissed.”

You crack a tiny smile. “And is that a problem?”

“No.”

Your smile only continues to grow as Muichiro practically yanks you up off the floor; a slight gasp leaves your mouth as he spins you around, pinning your arm behind your back, then promptly bending you over his desk. The game on his screen continues to go on, a large, faded box in the middle asking if he’d like to respawn. There’s muffled yelling coming from his headset.

Muichiro’s always been the direct type, both inside and outside the bedroom. Frankly, it’s because he simply doesn’t care, but there’s those certain times when it seems to amplify itself and he nearly becomes a whole new person. Already he’s slipping his other hand into your pants, sneaking past the band of your panties and brushing against your slit. Warm breath fans over your ear as he releases a sigh.

“You got wet from sucking me off? Good girl,” he whispers. “Sucking my cock like your life depends on it – you looked real good, you know? I wanted to fuck your throat real bad.” He pauses and licks his lips. “But I guess I’ll have to settle for this instead,” he says, dipping a lithe finger into your pussy.

“Mui…”

“Listen to that,” he murmurs, pretty lips brushing against the shell of your ear, “they’re still yelling. I have an idea to shut them up.” He bobs his head towards the abandoned headset sitting on the desk. “Go on, baby. Put it on.”

At his suggestion, your velvety walls clamp down around his finger, making him suck in a breath through his teeth. With the hand not pinned behind you, you grab onto the headset with shaking fingers and slip it on.

“Misty, you little bitch, I know you’re still online. What the fuck are you doing, man?”

“Bro, I’m telling you – what if he got sick?”

Jeez, no wonder Muichiro gets so annoyed when he plays online. Talk about a pain in the ass.

You nearly whine when your boyfriend promptly shoves two more fingers inside of you. You can feel your arousal sticking to the insides of your thighs, hear the wet noises as he thoroughly fucks you with is fingers. They’re long and thin, perfect for playing the piano, but fuck they’re even better when they’re playing with you. Muichiro easily works you into a gasping, shivering mess; little murmurs of his name and pleads slip past your lips, all so sultry and perfect. You don’t notice when the other two fall completely silent on their sides of the line, stupefied over just the hell is happening.

“Please, Mui, fuck me already,” you purr, pressing back against him. “Stuff me with your fat cock.”

“Since you asked so nicely…”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Muichiro yanks your pants and panties down, exposing your heated skin to the chill in the air. You cry out as the head of his cock grazes against your slit, spreading your slick all over you and himself. A quiet fuck graces the air and then he’s moving, pushing himself into the welcoming heat and groaning as you clamp down around him possessively.

“Ah, shit,” Muichiro grunts, halting his movements and allowing you to adjust. “So fucking tight.” He drops down, then, the loose strands of hair falling from his ponytail brushing against your neck and the side of your face. “This pretty pussy is all for me, eh? Sucking in my cock like that – yeah, baby, it’s all yours. Take it all in.”

“Muichiro-“

You cut yourself off with a moan as he begins to drive his cock in and out, hips moving erratically as he fucks you raw. The steady slap of skin against skin echoes throughout the room, mixing with your slutty moans and the string of curses spewing from Muichiro’s lips. He’s acting cockier than usual, more… feral. It’s only then that you realize that his microphone is still turned on.

Another round of obscenities bursts from Muichiro’s mouth as you tighten even more around him. This little brat was planning this the whole time, wasn’t he? Oh, but there’s something so hot about it, so fucking dirty that it practically has you shaking against his desk. You can feel him smile into the crook of your neck.

Shit, if it’s a show he wanted to put on, then you’re happy to oblige.

[r0zyp0zy0zy]

can you do prompt #10 with tadashi?

Hot Day = Tight Shorts

Make a request!

Master list

Warnings: thigh job,,, yeah that’s about it

Words: 1500

Pairing: Yamaguchi Tadashi x FEM!reader

Summary: Yamaguchi can’t help but get overwhelmed at your outfit choice

I sure can! Hope you enjoy <3

The lesson went on painfully slowly, and you could hear the ticking of the clock rattle in your head. When class was finally over, you peeled your sticky thighs from the plastic seat you were sitting on, carefully smoothing out your skirt. Grabbing your bag, you left the room as swiftly as possible, rushing to the gym that your boyfriend was practicing in. The fans inside were spinning full-speed, and it was much cooler inside than it was out. You sighed gratefully at the temperature change and slumped down on a bleacher bench. You rolled up your sleeves carefully to your elbow, now well aware of the sweat stains that would be revealed if you lifted your arms.

You hesitated for a moment before deciding to sneak into the girls' change room to switch into your spare clothes that weren't uniform appropriate. School was technically over, so you shrugged and made your way to the change room.

"Y/n!" You heard Yamaguchi yell, "hi!"

You waved at your boyfriend, matching his bright smile, "I'll be right over! I'm just changing clothes first!"

Deep in your bag you found the extra clothes you had stuffed in there at the beginning of the year. They had been your spares for a few years, and you never needed them so you hardly ever wore them. You cringed as you peeled off your sweaty garments, groaning at the thought of putting them in your bag. After applying a generous amount of deodorant and spritzing on some perfume, you pulled the clothes over your body.

The T-shirt wasn't all bad, and it was only a little baggy on you. The shorts on the other hand.. were a struggle to get into, but you managed. You applied lotion onto your thighs, and packed up your stuff to go back into the gym. You anxiously waddled back to the bleachers, praying that no one would notice your sudden switch in clothes. Yamaguchi stepped into your line of vision and you smiled at him, leaning in for a hug.

"I can't understand how you can do physical activity when it's sweltering hot," you mumbled into his chest/shoulder, squeezing him tighter.

"Y-yeah, I think I'm j-just used to it now, heh," Yamaguchi replied nervously. His cheeks flushed at the fact that your thighs were so much more visible than they were with your uniform skirt.

You pulled back and gave him a kiss, "'m just gonna watch you from the bleachers, kay?"

The boy in front of you didn't listen to whatever you said, now staring nervously at the bottom half of your body, "Uhm, t-those shorts look, uh, t-tight," Yamaguchi gulped, awkwardly playing with the hem of his jersey shirt, pulling it down to cover his crotch. "I-I'm gonna be right back— Tsukki, tell coach that I'll be a few minutes!"

You stared after him as he shuffled away to the boys' washroom, still gripping the bottom of his shirt, "umm...?" you puzzled.

"Yamaguchi-kun looks fuckin hilarious walking away with a boner," Tanaka giggled not so quietly to Nishinoya, earning a jab in the side from Daichi.

Your face grew hot as you clicked the pieces together, and you plopped yourself down on a bleacher bench. Guilt ran through your head for being the cause of a distraction from his volleyball practice, but you felt a flicker of satisfaction in the back of your mind that you did that. Your face flushed darker when a (probably bad) idea popped into your head. What if you joined him?

"Is he ok?" You asked Tanaka in mock confusion. "Should I go after him?"

"Oh yeah," Nishinoya giggled, "he might need some support from you."

Tanaka snickered behind him, and Tsukishima just rolled his eyes with a blush on his cheeks. Nishinoya and Tanaka fully burst out into boisterous, girly giggles once you turned the corner to the boys' locker room, and you nervously tapped your knuckles against the door.

"You alright in there, 'Dashi?" You asked worriedly. "Is the heat getting to you?"

"UH—," Tadashi blurted, "—just a second, y/n!" A few seconds later your flushed boyfriend peeked his head out of the locker room. His eyes were round and dark, and his cute freckled cheeks reddened when he eyed you up and down.

"You alright, angel?" You cupped his cheek in your hand. "You look like you're overheating."

"I-um... well—," Yamaguchi stuttered, "—I'm, uh, s-sorry. You probably think I'm such a pervert! I'm not I swear, i-it's your shorts— a-and I couldn't help—."

"Tadashi," you grabbed his other cheek, squishing his face, "I swear that I had no idea what was going on until Tanaka-san pointed it out."

"H-he knows?" Yamaguchi sweat-dropped, swallowing harshly.

"I'm pretty sure most of the team knows something's up..." you informed him. "But that's ok! Because I don't see them about to receive a thigh-job by their girlfriend now do I?"

"What?" Tadashi whimpered, "wait, what?!"

"If you want to, I'm just offering," you batted your eyelashes at him, slowly moving your hands down from his cheeks to his chest.

"But what if the team finds out— or worse, Takeda-sensei!?" Yamaguchi let the door open a little wider.

"We'll just be quiet; but imagine how jealous all of your senpais would be if they do catch us,~" you whispered in his ear, making him shiver.

"O-okay," he nodded anxiously, "but if you feel obligated to... you don't have to!"

"Angel, I offered it to you," you kissed just below his ear and another shiver ran throughout his body. "Let's get in the room."

At your words, he practically hauled you into the locker room, shutting and locking the door behind you. He bit his lip nervously, and leaned forward to kiss you. You could tell he was desperate by the way he fisted the back of your shirt, pulling you closer. You fumbled for his shorts and easily yanked down the fabric along with his boxers, fisting his length in your palm.

Yamaguchi reluctantly let go of you when you pulled away, and froze up when you pressed your hands against the wall and arched your back slightly to present your ass to him. He almost tripped when he hurried to follow you, but gripped your hips to stabilize himself.

"C'mon, Tadashi," you wiggled your ass, "I want your cock between my thighs."

Your boyfriend squeaked at your lewd words, but complied excitedly. The lotion you applied earlier helped him slip between the plump fat, and a moan fell from his lips. Yamaguchi buried his face into your shoulder as he rutted his hips, muffling his whimpers and leaving sloppy kisses.

"Fuck," Yamaguchi whined quietly, "squeeze a little harder—oh shit— t-thanks,"

You murmured encouragement when he groped your breasts through your shirt, moving with his stuttering thrusts as he pinched at your nipples. Yamaguchi's breathing was getting more ragged and it caught in his throat frequently, a telltale sign that he was getting close.

Closing your eyes, you imagined Tadashi's focused face that he always had when he was concentrating, followed with the bright blush that would adorn his cheeks whenever you were intimate.

"Shit, shit, shit," Yamaguchi whimpered quietly into your ear as he picked up his pace. "Oh god y/n, I'm so close. Gonna cum— oh holy f-mmm~"

You reached one of your hands down to catch his cum if it spurted from between your thighs, moaning along with your boyfriend just as he liked. A low rumbling groan slipped from Tadashi's throat, and you felt his warm semen drip down your thighs.

"Fuck," Yamaguchi whimpered, "thank you, y/n. I'll repay you once practice is done, I promise."

Once you got cleaned up, and Tadashi put away his soft dick back into his shorts, the two of you held hands as you exited the locker room back to the gym. Several of the boys just stared and blushed when you entered, and others purposefully looked away and pretended to be busy, while the rest were completely oblivious to your entrance.

You sat back down on the bleacher bench and gave Tadashi one last kiss before he returned to practice. You could see the remains of his pink blush as he picked up a ball, choosing to ignore the second and third years frantically whispering to each other.

You smiled kindly when some of them turned to look at you, and several faces bloomed bright red. Who knew that you were right; Tadashi's senpais really were jealous of what went down in the locker room.

[devildomdoofus]

I saw you said your commissions are open, if it's ok can I request a fluffy morning with the demon brothers, please? I just found your blog but I already fell in love with your writing style 😍. I hope you have a great day 🤗

Thank you so very much!! 😭 I’m over the moon that I can make you happy with my writing and I’ll GLADLY take this request ✨ I hope you have a great day as well!!

I also hope I’ve done your request justice 🥺

- DevildomDoofus

Through Morning’s Rays

Fluffy mornings with the Obey Me! Brothers

💙Lucifer:

Both of your schedules differed a generous amount. He wakes up the earliest out of the House of Lamentation and Purgatory Hall combined, to ensure everyone’s up and ready for school/work/etc.... and he is the last to go to bed.

That is, if he isn’t dog tired by the time he’s finished doing his last rounds of security checks and sending any remaining night owls to their rooms to keep their schedules in check, and collapses at his desk while finalizing reports.

You, on the other hand, have a steady schedule due to your obligations to your school (and job, if you worked).

To say that you two have a hard time spending any amount of quality time together is an understatement

Please forgive him, he is a lone father and he is trying his best

When he’s up early to get a head start in working to the bone, as usual and doesn’t have much time to share the fleeting, morning hours with you, he’ll gingerly place a kiss to the top of your head and shift the blankets from your late night tossing and turning, back to their place over your shoulders and covers the rest of your body. He’ll leave a little note by the bedside table that wishes you a wonderful day and promises that he’ll meet with you shortly to make up for lost time.

On the rare occasions that he manages to be able to share mornings with you, it is like a gift from the celestial realm to you both in which afterwards, the two of you are like completely different people, beaming with sunshine and happiness as your batteries have been recharged.

In those rare moments, he’ll slide to your side of the bed, oh so carefully snake his arm around you and tugs you gently into his embrace as he places kisses all atop your head. When you finally open your eyes and face him, he’ll run his hand up the length of your silhouette to your face, cupping it, rub his thumb over your cheek and smile lazily. “Good morning, lamb.” He whispers, trying to disguise the grogginess in his voice. Then, he leans down to press his lips against yours in a way that makes you feel like he’s been starving for you for months on end, only to now get what he’s craved and yet it’s not enough.

In this moment, nothing in all of the realms matters to him more than you. Just you and you alone.

💛Mammon:

You spent many, many, MANY mornings with him and they were some of your favorite memories since you first came to the Devildom. For him.... well, maybe not at first since you were kind of a chore. But the was before you two became so close.

The only problem was that neither of you were morning people, especially if either of you had responsibilities that day like school or work. To deal with such a thing, the two of you made a deal where each of you took turns being the one to help wake the other.

There were mornings where he woke you up with a heavy pillow to the torso and it ended up in you two being late for school due to an epic pillow fight that neither of you wanted to lose.

Other mornings, you woke him up by jumping and flopping around next to him on the bed, belting a song that was the favorite of the pair of you, and he tackles you back down to the bed to deliver you a piping hot plate of a tickle fight

and then there were THOSE mornings.

These mornings, when the two of you just happened to wake around the same time, he’d smile sleepily, yank you closer, and place a kiss on your forehead. “Mornin’, my lil’ human.”

UGH, that gravely, morning voice would be the bittersweet death of you.

While having a few hours to spare, you would lay there in the semidarkness, whispering sweet everythings to each other, exchanging kisses and joke ensued laughter, and simply enjoying each other’s company while entangled in a comfy, cozy embrace.

🧡Leviathan:

It’s the same sort of situation as with Mammon; neither of you were really morning people. But with you two, it was because it came with the terms and conditions of being like minded nerds (as a fellow ‘nerd,’ I mean that term in the best way possible and as a compliment) in which the endgame boss had to be defeated, or that one episode simply could not be missed, or your favorite celebrity/idol was going live and you were not about to be absent for it. Many evenings were spent indulging in both of your favorite hobbies, well into the latest hours of the night and early morning, when you should’ve been sleeping instead.

So of course, mornings were INCREDIBLY ROUGH for the two of you.

In the beginning and a majority of the time, you were the one to wake him up. I hope you can forgive him, though, because almost all of his energy is spent drowning out his negative thoughts and the outside judgement from his own brothers, haters, and toxic fans alike via his hobbies and he doesn’t quite have enough energy to take care of himself, including waking up on time for school or other responsibilities/obligations to avoid getting an ass-chewing from Lucifer... much less waking up on time and then having to wake YOU up.

You had to show him the way, in a sense. You’re his motivation and safety net. Where you go, and ensure his ‘safety’ he delightfully follows. Ergo, you had to be the alarm clock for him, for a while, to be shown that you truly care about him and it’s not all just some exasperating, ridiculously elaborate and heart shattering prank.

Your method of ‘raising the dead’ was to gently comb your hand through his hair while softly beckoning him from his dream world with your sweetest voice to ‘the land of the living.’ His eyes would flutter open and as soon as he saw you with that heartwarming smile, his face would turn a deep crimson and he’d smile back, reaching a hand up to place it over top of yours, somewhat nuzzling into it. “Good morning, my human Henry.” His shy, quiet, gravely voice could melt lava.

Through this method of yours, he no longer woke with animosity for the normie world but was rather hopeful and optimistic, feeling as if nothing could bring him down. Not even his brothers’ insults.

Eventually, he got the hang of it, and he was the one waking YOU up and he did so as sweetly as you had done. He’d place his hand on your cheek, rub his thumb over it, and gingerly place a multitude of kisses atop your head as he whispered your name until you woke.

Some mornings when he was feeling extra giddy, he would place a little speaker near where you had fallen asleep and quietly play your favorite song as he sang along and took hold of your hands to swing them gently to the beat. He saw it once in an anime episode and was hoping it would award him the same giggles the love interest gave the protagonist.

Fortunately for him, it always did.

💚Satan:

Being one of the more mature and responsible brothers, he rarely ever slept in. It’s just in his nature to be an early bird to catch the early worm.. mostly to get it over with so he could get back to doing what he loved most; reading in comfort. Even still, his schedule matched with yours almost perfectly, and that’s due to the fact that, similar to Leviathan, you two were likeminded.

You had the same interests and hobbies so of course, the pair of you grew very close, very quickly. You first linked up for study sessions because celestial realm knows that school in the Devildom was VASTLY different than human world schools, then book club meetings for when you got a little more comfortable with each other’s presence, then as you became even closer, you just decided to do the same things at the same time as it killed two birds with one stone; you got to do what you enjoyed with the person you enjoyed the most.

Mornings to you two were fairly simple and honestly, quite enjoyable with the other being there when you woke.

One morning, Satan took the first step and woke you to the pleasant sound of one of your favorite records echoing from an antique gramophone while placing a tray of your favorite breakfast foods next to the bed. He then leant down, took your hand into his, and kissed from your knuckles, all the way up to your shoulder, and then planting one final, light kiss to your cheek. “My darling MC, it is time to come back to me. Your dreams have had you long enough.”

From then on, you took turns in trying to wake the other in the most romantic ways possible. From your favorite flower’s petals scattering the bed, to his favorite audio books reading him awake. There was nothing that you two wouldn’t do in order to guarantee that the other woke to nothing less than the world on a silver and golden platter.

He was the envy of his brothers especially Mammon, getting to spend so much time with you and having you smile as brightly as you did with him.

💖Asmodeus:

Surprisingly, he’s another early riser. Though when you really think about it, it isn’t quite that surprising, considering he has a strict self-care routine that CANNOT be broken, lest he wishes to end up with a pimple or even worse... a wrinkle! Which neither are bad if you have them, it’s just for Asmo’s personal tastes for his own appearance, he prefers to have none of them.

Because he cares for you so much, he forces sternly asks that you have the same schedule as he does so he can give you the same love and care as he gives himself. He wants you to look and feel as wonderful as who you are on the inside... but he also loves it when you absolutely SHINE.

Please don’t be mistaken, he doesn’t think you’re ugly or unattractive or any other negative thoughts you might have about yourself, in the least. Not at ALL. He simply wishes to amplify what wonderful assets you already have (to your own tastes, of course) because of that oh so magnificent way you carry yourself when you feel your best.

Want to as pretty as a sunset? He’s got you covered. Want to be as handsome as... well, him? You’re covered there too. Want a little mix of any and everything? Oh please, give him a challenge! Whatever look you wish for, he’s there to help you make it happen.

You just have to take his hand and follow his lead. And his lead requires that you be ‘up and at ‘em’ early enough to go through the self-care routine (that he handpicked things for, according to you and your body’s needs), and eat the proper foods so your body and mind can handle the weight of being the most stunning thing to walk the face of any of the realms... besides him, of course. Also, all of this has to happen before school begins.

Unfortunately, that’s pretty early. There’s a LOT of self-care to-do’s that you two have to go through to ensure maximum amplification.

But because he knows that this can be rather overwhelming and a bit stressful to keep up with all of the time (and stress causes physical and mental harm), he’s always sure to make your mornings as pleasant and stress-free as possible.

He lights one of your favorite candles or incenses, and/or turns one of your favorite slower/softer songs on then climbs into bed and over top of you to begin his trails of kisses from the top of your head, down your face, neck and chest, further down your precious tummy, and stops right at your hips to go back up your body and start again. All of this on repeat as he coos and whispers your name, his soothing voice leading you from your dreams to the waking world. When your eyes meet his, he hums “ahh, my dear, you’ve returned to me.” He moves to kiss your lips as sweetly as he speaks.

He then slips his arms underneath you and lifts you up, as if you were one of Lucifer’s feathers, to carry you bridal style into the bathroom. He’ll then set you down and slowly undress you, taking as much time as you need him to, before helping you into the tub and giving you the gentlest of washes you’ve had since before you can even remember.

He’s the most soothing alarm that’s ever existed.

❤️Beelzebub:

Not really an early riser but he’s also not one to sleep in, either. To sleep in means to miss breakfast, and to miss breakfast is a death sentence for himself and anyone in the way of his next meal.

It also means that he doesn’t get to spend his mornings or share breakfast with you. Another death sentence but this one’s for his heart. Even though he might not say it, being that putting his thoughts and feelings into words is a bit harder than his more comfortable/natural way of simply showing you through his actions, he loves you very, very, VERY much.

This man cares so fucking much for you, he’d give up eating for the rest of his life if it meant you got to have a crumb. But he hopes it doesn’t have to come to that.

The way that Beel shows you that he cares is through food. Eating with you, cooking with you, watching you eat to be sure that you’re getting enough food in your own body, taking his time to eat his food because, now, he’s too busy having wonderful conversations with you, and every and anything in between.

One of his favorite ways is breakfast in bed. You had done it once for him before on one of your anniversaries and ever since then, he’s done it for you in return whenever he got the chance.

On mornings that he had waken up early enough, he’d quietly get up and tiptoe to the kitchen to make both of you a delicious breakfast. If Belphegor was up, on the rarest of rare occasions that he was, he’ll make a little something for him too. He’d put together your favorite foods and beverage while doing the same for himself, draw a cute little heart on a small post-it note and placing it on your side of the tray, tip-toe back up to the room and sets it on the nightstand beside the bed, then moves in close to you to start waking you up. He leans in close and peppers your face in little kisses before moving a little lower to your neck and giving his signature, gentle bite. “MC, honey, wake up. I’ve brought you breakfast.”

Nine times out of ten, you wake up in an instant. When you’ve slept heavily during the night and have a harder time waking up, he plops down onto you gently of course as to not squish you and groans in your ear, nibbling them to remind you of who you’re keeping waiting. “MCCC, pleeeease, I’m hungry. Don’t make me eat yours.”

The warning never fails.

As you two chow down, his dimpled smile never leaves his face nor his eyes on you as he watches you enjoy another morning filled with your favorite things: Beel and Beel’s signature breakfast.

💜Belphegor:

Morning? What the hell is a morning?

Yeah, yeah, he knows what a morning is. He’s had to get up for them too many fucking times to count in order to get to school on time.. or at least try. His attendance is, more or less, nonexistent. He’s just not a morning person.

at ALL.

WHAT. SO. EVER.

The one thing ‘Mr. Sandman’ doesn’t do is wake up or get woken up if the awakener values their life

However... if it is you, his favorite walking and talking pillow, he can’t be that pissed about it. It’s a little more of a smooth transition from being asleep to being awake when you’re the one bringing him there.

So, yes, you’re the one waking him up and it’s never the other way around, but you knew this would be your lot in life the closer you had gotten to him.

And yet, whenever you tried to wake him, he’d simply wrap his arm over you and drag you back down onto the bed as he rolls on top of you, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. “No.” he’d groan in his gravelly morning voice.

What? What did he mean ‘no’ ?! It’s time to get up!!

You’d try your best to to wiggle free but Belphegor is far more stronger than he looks and keeps you pinned down in place. Well... at least it’s comfy.

Wait no, this is his way of coercing you to go back to sleep with him!

Before you can try something else, he plants warm and slow kisses up and down your neck and nibbles at the skin just beneath your ear while whispering in a low tone, “why don’t we just stay here and do something better than go to school?”

Your face heats up and body tenses underneath him. It was not uncommon for him to try this tactic, especially in the morning, so you were fairly used to it but sometimes... sometimes it just does something to you and you’re frozen in place with nothing but his voice to lull you wherever it pleased. Maybe it came with being the Avatar of Sloth? He moves up onto his elbows to deliver his final attack that was his signature, teasing smile in order for him to fully keep you here, in bed, with him and simply enjoy each other’s company while you slept.

Unfortunately for him, this was his mistake and you gained yourself a foothold in pushing him off of you. Getting up from the bed, you look back at him as you straighten your clothes out and fix your hair, saying “Breakfast is in ten minutes,” with a stern voice. You take notice of this and try to sweeten it up to truly convince him. “Be there, won’t you?” you demand more than request, with a signature smile of your very own.

He brings his dropped jaw back up from when you were able to knock him off, and shakes his head as he lightly chuckles. “Whatever you want, MC.” Before you completely walk out of the door, he calls after you. “You owe me!”

You peak back in just enough for him to hear you as you’re closing the door. “No, you owe me.”

[spinster-sisters]

Sunflower. LTY

Warnings: Face fucking mostly, a toxic as fuck relationship, swearing

A/N: THIS RELATIONSHIP IS TOXIC AF SO PLEASE DON’T THINK IM SAYING THIS IS OK OR THAT IM ROMANTISIZING THIS

also, guess which song this is based on lol

This is gonna b like a 3 part mini series so stay tuned

THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY OLD BLOG

You don’t know how the fuck you got here, standing outside the looming apartment building. It was going to rain soon, you could tell because not a star was visible in the night sky, covered by clouds. Distant thunder rumbled in the air. You told yourself never again, yet here you were.

It started almost a year ago,

You meet Taeyong in at a frat party. You hadn’t spoken much, both of you too drunk to care. It didn’t take long for you to take him home.

When you woke the next morning, your bed was empty, no note, no text, nothing. At the time you didn’t care, it was just a one night stand right?

Then, not even a week later it happened again, this time you were both completely sober, having spoken for almost an hour before, only this time you didn’t even make it out of the party before you found a closet for a quick fuck. Once again, total static after. After the fourth time, the man ghosted you, you told yourself no more. You had become somewhat invested in this man, each time believing you might have a future, only for him to disappear the next day. So you promised your self that it wouldn’t happen again.

It was only 2 weeks before the man had once again lured you into his bed. You didn’t mean to fall in love, you didn’t. You tried fucking around, just as he did. You tried blind dates and parties, and even binge drinking to try and keep your mind away from Taeyong. Yet every time, you would scramble to meet him, anytime, any place he desired. You were at his beck and call.

It got to the point were others knew not to even bother, you were Taeyong’s. No matter how much you flirted, how hot you looked, how desperate they were, no one dared to touch what Taeyong had successfully claimed. Even if he didn’t seem to need you.

He continued to sleep around as he pleased, going days without even texting you, then calling you at 2 am to come for a quick fuck. And every time you came running.

It was clear to everyone that to you, he was everything. But to him, you were nothing.

This reality hit you especially hard 3 weeks ago. He had been out with a girl, but she got to piss drunk before he could get his dick wet. And instead of jerking off he called you. You were there in 12 minutes. Though your time was cut short when he got a phone call, it was the girl from earlier, sobered up and ready for a good time.

He left before you had even got your clothes on.

That hit you hard. For 3 weeks you ignored his calls, for 3 weeks you avoided him at parties, for 3 weeks you were strong.  

Yet here you were, standing outside his apartment. The rain had just begun to fall. You were broken, you missed him, you wanted to see him, talk to him, feel him. He was like a drug or a god, in your eyes. You craved his attention, reveling in the few moments you had it. Those moments gave you a better high than any recreational substance ever could.

Which is why you are here, you are an addict going through withdrawals. And you needed your fix.

You walked up to the steps to the heavy metal door, and pressed the button next to his name, buzzing up to his apartment. You stood silent for a moment, wondering if he was even going to answer, it was nearly midnight.

“Hello?” Taeyong’s voice sounded over the intercom. Your heart cried out at the sound. It was pathetic really. You breath soon stopped though, you had no clue what to say. There was always a chance he would simply turn you away. You finally reached out a shaky finger, pressing down the button once again. A low buzzing sound told you he could hear you.

You were still at a loss for words. So you only squeaked out,

“Tae?”

Before releasing the button.

This seemed to be enough though, because soon a high pitch buzz rang out, signaling that the door was open. You heaved open the heavy metal door, before walking up the many flights of stairs to reach his apartment.

You stood outside his door for a minute, contemplating leaving. You had barely had the time to consider it before the door swung open.

And there he stood, in all his glory. A loss barely their white t hung off his slim frame, grey sweat pants loosely tied around his waist. The sight of him was enough to make your mouth run dry, you were practically gasping for water. You quickly swallowed in an attempt to fix the sensation, your heart racing for him.

He lifted the corner of his mouth into a slight smirk.

“Almost though you forgot which one it was,” He spoke, his voice deep and smooth enough to bring you to your knees. But in truth, he was almost mocking you with that statement. He knew as well as you did there was no way you could forget the way to him. You suppose that’s the reason your friends begged you to let him go, to ditch him completely. Because he knew how crazy you were for him, he knew you would come when he called, he knew the hold he had over you.

He chuckled at your slight pout, reaching out and grabbing your wrist, pulling you into his chest. You fell graciously into his arms, closing your eyes as his arms wrapped around your waist. You breathed in his sent, feeling your mind cloud over at the strong musk. Though your face was in his neck you sensed him moving close your ear, moving your hair out of the way with his nose.

“Miss me?” he whispered into the shell of your ear. You almost cried out to him, yes, yes you did miss him. But instead, you simply wrapped your arms around him and nodded into his shoulder. You finally saw his smirk when he pulled you back, admiring you at arm’s length. He looked up and down your body.  You blushed madly under his gaze.

Taeyong finally leads you inside, closing the door with a thud behind you, only to lean against the dining table, arms folded across his chest, now grinning wildly.

“What made you decide to come back to me, baby?” He asked, thought the sweetness in his voice didn’t reach his eyes, which showed how amused he was by your sudden appearance.

Something had happened, though you were reluctant to share. But it didn’t take much more of his intense gaze to have your resolve cracking.

“umm,” You began, not sure how much you wanted to share. “There was this guy” You eyed him, waiting for his reaction. He didn’t have one. “ Well, we were hanging out, and one thing leads to another,” You continued in a shaky voice, “ I hadn’t told him my name,” You explained, seeing how that was the only way any guy would be willing to risk sleeping with Taeyong’s girl. “But Tae it was-”

“Bad?” He filled in the blank. Still clearly finding the whole thing very amusing.

You swallowed again and nodded. At this, he audibly laughed.

“Well, what did you expect Y/N?” He chuckled out, pushing off the tabled and stalking towards you. “And I’m guessing you finally realized that no other guy can please you the way I do?” He asked mocking you slightly. You nodded again, shamefully.

“Did you finally realize how much you need me?” He asked, this time looking expectantly at you, waiting for an answer. You finally looked up to meet his dark swirling eyes. You had fallen in love with those eyes. You nodded, practically lunging froward to once again attach your self to him.

He chuckled at you once again, hand stroking down the length of your body, from the back of your neck to the swell of your ass.

“Show me how much you need me,” He orders in a soft voice leading you over to the couch. He was so fucking beautiful, your mind was clouded, practically drunk off his attention. You wanted to please him. Make him see how much you wanted him.

You knelt on the couch beside him, taking his hand into yours and raising his wrist to your lips. You trial your lips down the length of his arm savoring the way his soft skin felt against your lips.

Although you found him to be perfect in every way, Taeyong was not with his blemishes, one of these was how possessive he could be over you. While you often deluded yourself into thinking it was out of love, the truth was that Taeyong was greedy, and to put it simply, didn’t like to share toys.

So you continued to shower his body in affection. You moved yourself to straddle his lap, lips now reaching up to his shoulder, you hands skimmed underneath his shirt, tugging lightly, asking him to remove it. He obliged you, pulling the fabric over his head, his hands then resting on your hips, rubbing soft circles into your jeans.

Your lust had you practically drooling over the man in front of you. Just as you were about to dive back into to worshipping his golden skin, he reached up onto the hair at the base of your neck, taking a fist full into his hand by the roots, keeping your head immobile. He tugged at your hair, causing your head to fall back slightly, exposing your neck to the man. In your vulnerable state Taeyong tutted at you.

“So, this man,” He started, your blood ran cold “What was his name?”

Though the question was innocent, it held a deeper meaning.

“umm,?” You wondered aloud. Your mind was so swirled with thoughts of Taeyong, you honestly had a hard time recalling. His hand tapped your hip, telling to hurry up. Though just as he did so he also pulled out tighter onto his lap, bulge pressing into your core deliciously. You got lost in the feeling, starting to swirl and grind your hips absent mindedly

“Uhhh, I think it was-” You trailed off quietly, one good tug on your hair, reminding you of the question, “Umm- it was- I think I was Doyoung?” You wonder aloud. In reward for answering Taeyong began to grind up into you, matching your pace. The seam of your jeans was rubbing directly onto your clit, his hips swirling the bud onto the rough fabric. The outline of his cock was pressing perfectly on your slit, practically sliding between your folds through the fabric. You were already in pure bliss, happily chasing your high.

“Hmm,” He spoke aloud, almost casually as if he wasn’t one particularly strong thrust away from making you cum in your pants, which were already damp from your wetness.

“ You should know better than anyone, baby, how angry that makes me.” He adds, bringing a hand down to add pressure directly onto your clit, you cried out, picking up your pace.

“I think you need a reminder that your mine,” He comments. You were hanging off his every word, seconds away from release your stomach clenched in anticipation. You swirled your hips, once, twice, a third time. You were about to cum, hard, a fourth.

Taeyong quickly released your hair and took you by the hips, lifting you off of him. You nearly toppled over back onto him in shock. You stared at him, mouth agape and wide-eyed, a loud whimper ripping through your body. You were crying out for a release.

He laughed at you once again

“But first you need to thank me for letting you come up here after that stunt. Not listening to me for weeks? Ignoring me? You’ve been bad, baby” He practically spat at you as you collapsed onto the floor at his feet.

“Get over here and apologize.” He demanded, spreading his legs enough for you to sit comfortably between them. If you had thought for a moment you might have noticed the hypocrisy in his words, but you didn’t. Instead, you eagerly crawled into place. Mouth already hanging open, like an eager pet waiting to be fed.

Taeyong sat up straight, hand once again finding purchase in your hair while the other took his now fully erect dick out of his sweat pants. Your cunt throbbed in anticipation, mouth-watering at the sight. You straighten your back, leaning as far forward as the hand in your hair would allow.

“So eager, baby” He chuckled, before guiding your head onto his length. You happily let your jaw go slack as he guided your head up and down his cock. You loved him so much it hurt, so to you, his pleasure was worth the dull pain in the back of your throat. Though clearly, this was not enough, as soon he started thrusting into your mouth harshly. Tears began to stream down your cheeks as his throbbing dick moved down your throat. You choked and gagged frequently, trying your hardest to breathe through your nose.

“Hmm, such a good pretty baby,” He remarked, watching the drool that escaped your mouth drip down your chin. You looked up at him with big round eyes, causing him to groan. As his thrusts become more sporadic. He threw his head back, halting his movements. Soon, thick ropes of cum came pours down your throat. It was sticky and warm, already sliding down your throat. You had no choice but to swallow it, not that you minded.

You finally were released, pulling yourself off his dick. You were panting, throat feeling sore.

His hooded eyes watched you amusement still in his eyes.

“Oh, baby, you’ve always been so good for me,” He praised. “You’re never going to ignore me again are you?” He asked, as though talking to a child. You nodded in affirmation, completely, madly in love with the man before you.

Both of his hands reach out and cupped your face.

“Mine,” he said, more to himself than to you, as your eyes shown with adoration, practically sparkling with devotion.

I love you, I love you, I love you. You brain chanted over and over and over again. Staring longingly at his perfect face. It was as if a red glow surrounded him, everything aside from his figure was a blur, all you could see was Taeyong. You rested your cheek on his knee, eyes not leaving him.

Just as he was about to open his mouth a sudden ringing erupted from his phone. His eyes left your face. Hands leaving your head, and you felt a crash.

He reached forward without missing a beat, answering the phone on the second ring. Your head stopped spinning

“Hello” He spoke, voice clear and unbothered. The person on the other end talked for a moment before Taeyong responded,

“Of course,”

You came down from your high,

Without another word, he hung up the phone, stood abruptly, fixed his appearance, and walked out the front door.

Leaving you in a pile on his floor.

You were back where you started.

[dreaming-of-assclass]

AssClass Christmas Fics: Part 1

Group 1 + gift-shopping 🎁

In which Kataoka is tired, Isogai is stressed, Maehara is a wholesome idiot, and Okano and Kimura are the embodiment of chaos.

Genre: Fluff, Humor, Wholesomeness, Slight angst on Isogai’s part

Length: 3,133 words

..................

—————

In hindsight, Megu should’ve known better than to come.

It had seemed innocent at first when Maehara brought the idea up in their groupchat. He wanted all his closest friends to band together and take a trip to the mall for “some good ol’ Christmas gift-shopping.” He said it wasn’t likely they’d get to hang out all together until after winter break. Ok, fair point.

But now, as she sat exhaustedly in the dressing room of some teen store, surrounded by heaps of clothing, she realized she’d made a mistake.

“Hinano, please tell me this is the last one you’re trying on,” Megu begged as she reached for another garment. “We’ve been here for at least an hour and a half.”

“Mmm...I just have to find a matching pair of shorts,” Hinano hummed, at least looking somewhat apologetic. She gave Megu a wink. “After this, we’ll be all done!”

And with that, the smaller girl dashed off, probably in search of one of the store workers.

Megu groaned, giving a pitiful glance at the bag sitting besides her. She’d purchased one outfit, a matching belt, and a set of earrings already...while her friend was still not even close to being done.

“Might as well check what everyone else is doing.” Megu pulled out her phone and texted their groupchat. 

Kataoka: Where are you guys?

She got a reply a moment later.

Maehara: me n isogai r grabbing smth to eat rn

Maehara: but we’re gonna go to some store after

Ah...probably to get some gifts for Isogai’s siblings, Megu remembered fondly. 

“Oh, Megu, she’s still not done yet?” She snapped up to see a somewhat flustered Touka making her way into the dressing room.

The class rep sighed with a tired smile, setting her phone down. She shifted a bit to make room for the other girl. “No, not yet...did you get what you were looking for?”

Touka nodded excitedly, pulling out her gift bag. It was very small and plain-looking, nude with only a red ribbon tied around. She handed it to Megu, a shine in her eyes. “Yes. It’s perfect, exactly what we were going for.”

Megu opened up the bag and reached for the item inside. It was small yet carried weight, and was surrounded by fancy parchment paper. She delicately opened it, careful not to rip anything. “Oh,” she breathed. Touka was certainly right.

It was perfect.

Nestled within the folds of parchment paper was a lovely ornament, shaped like a rose and made of dazzling stained glass. A thousand colors reflected off of it as she gently held it up in the light of the store. 

Touka smiled softly, leaning into her seat. “I thought a rose would be fitting after, y’know, Karasuma-sensei’s love declaration in October,” she laughed. 

“True.” Megu laughed as she carefully set the gift down back into the bag. “No but really, I can’t imagine anything better than this for her. She loves roses and it’s sophisticated, but still...can remind her of our class.”

She patted Touka’s shoulder, her gaze soft. “We made such a good decision entrusting her Christmas gift to be picked out by you.”

Oddly, Touka’s face turned a bright hue of red and she glanced away, clearing her throat. “It’s no problem! I’m happy that I picked something okay.”

Before Megu could question her, their third companion came back in a flurry of more clothing. A pair of pants flew and knocked against Megu’s face, and she wiped it away tiredly. “Hina! You said one more thing!”

Hinano was already turned towards the changing stall, struggling to carry her massive load. “I know, I know, I’m sorry! But they have a sale!”

“Still-!”

“Wait, really?” Touka shot up, her eyes bright. “I gotta go look for some stuff too!” Within seconds, she was dashing towards the racks of clothing in the store, right into the massive crowds of people already scavenging for good sales.

Oh boy. Megu mentally prepared herself for a moment before following her. Might as well take advantage of the sales too, she thought wryly. She had been looking for a new pair of boots lately...

.................

__________

“Yo, how about this one?” Hiroto asked, wriggling his eyebrows and holding up a video game-themed hoody jacket. It was child-sized and looked incredibly tiny against his large frame.

Yuuma looked in his direction, still combing through a rack of items himself. “Cute.” He grinned.

He reached over and touched the material thoughtfully. “Quality seems pretty good too. It’ll last him a while.”

“Yeah!” Hiroto agreed. “It’s super cozy, and will help him a lot in winter.”

“Okay, we can put this in the cart.”

Hiroto obliged and the two boys moved on from the clothing area. “Nothing else?” He questioned, giving a passing glance to aisles around them.

Yuuma hummed. “Well, we got a pajama set for both of them...a dress...two pairs of shoes, and now this hoodie. I’d like to get more but it’s Christmas, right? They’d probably like some new toys, not a ton of clothes.” He laughed.

“Ah, true.” Hiroto pushed the cart towards the toy section, following his best friend’s steady pace. This part of the store was incredibly hectic, and the sound of children’s cries and laughs filled it endlessly. Stressed parents flew around, trying to find the perfect toys. Boxes were everywhere, and it was very much a mess.

He barely caught Yuuma’s wince. As someone who also worked in a service industry, around Christmas time no less, Yuuma was probably sympathizing with the store clerks who’d be tasked to clean up.

They reached a random aisle that ended up holding all the lego sets. “I should get a couple of these,” Yuuma mused, looking around. “They love Legos, especially the bigger sets.”

“Uh huh...” Hiroto grasped his chin in thought, leaning his forearms onto the cart handle. “What about this?” He reached over and grabbed the box set. 

Yuuma leaned over to see it. “A firetruck and station,” he read. “589 pieces.” He smiled, looking up at Hiroto. “Perfect. Let’s grab it.”

“Awesome.” Hiroto was glad he was some kind of help. He knew this time of year was always incredibly stressful for his best friend, who not only had to study but work at the same time. And Yuuma would always buy his family some type of presents, so there was that added financial stress...

Not to mention...

Yuuma would never outright say it, but Hiroto knew that his father was on his mind even more than usual during the Holiday season, a time that places so much emphasis on family. 

The thought made his chest tighten. Hiroto always swore to himself that he’d help Yuuma and his family to the best of his ability, and it went tenfold during this goddamn month. 

The two looked some more before coming up with a few more toys. There was a science kit for his younger brother, and some new race cars. And a babydoll and a slime-making box for his little sister. The two kids would share the Lego set, and their older brother would help them build it.

“Now we just need to swing by over there,” Yuuma told him, gesturing to the side of the store where mainly women’s products were. Things like fancy soap, candles, etc. 

It was definitely a gift for his mom.

“Sure.” They made their way over, Hiroto still pushing the cart. “Hey, Isogai...” The name slipped uncomfortably from his tongue, leaving a taste of unfamiliarity. 

“Yeah?” Yuuma asked, looking through some house decorations. Hiroto took a short breath.

“Your family will love and appreciate whatever you get for them. It’s always the thought that counts, and that’s like...times ten with you. You’re a really good son and big brother, and that alone means so much to them probably.”

There was a pause.

“So please don’t stress yourself out, looking “for the perfect gift,” Hiroto added quickly. “They love you so much...”

Well, so much for nice encouragement. He just blurted out everything.

The sound of gentle laughter rang out, and he glanced up to see Yuuma looking back at him. His best friend’s eyes crinkled in a charming way as he spoke.

“Thanks, Hiroto...I couldn’t have gone through all this without you.” He ran a hand through his mop of dark hair. “And I don’t just mean this past month...thanks for being my best friend.”

He continued. “It’s when you say stuff like that...that brings me back down to Earth,” Yuuma admitted. “And I can actually...relax, even for just a little bit.”

Oh...

Hiroto coughed lightly, before beaming at him. “Well, duh~what are best friends for?” He winked. “I’ve always got your back.”

“Same here,” Yuuma replied, his gaze soft. 

His phone buzzed and he pulled it out, brows furrowing slightly. “Ah, Yada texted.”

Yada: help megu almost fought some girl over a pair of tights on sale

Maehara: LMFAOOOOOO well did she win?

Yada: ya of course

Kataoka: - _ - she deserved it

Isogai: Haha

Kataoka: also sorry to interrupt but

Kataoka: where the hell are okano and kimura????

.................

_________

“I can’t believe you actually had a good idea for once,” Okano muttered, the blue light from the game reflected in her fierce gaze. “Coming to the mall arcade instead of doing some boring shopping.”

“Yeah, well, at least one of us used our brain cell today,” Kimura shot back, his thumbs moving rapidly. “If it was up to you, we’d still be circling around the penny fountain.”

Okano snorted. “Shut up.” She picked up the pace on the controllers, feeling a familiar drive to win piling up inside of her. 

Ten seconds later, “You lose!” was flashing at her on the screen while Kimura jumped up, throwing his arms up in victory. “Aw, hell yeah!”

“Fuck!” Okano hissed. “One more time!” She demanded, turning towards him.

Kimura smirked, calming down. “No thanks, I’m getting bored of this one now,” he replied nonchalantly.

Okano rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She looked around at the arcade interior, her gaze scanning around for anything that seemed interesting. 

“Oh! I love that game!” She exclaimed, gesturing to an iceball set up. “Come on!”

“Sure!” Kimura followed her towards the machine, seeing nothing else to do. “I bet I’ll win~” He sang smugly.

“You wish,” Okano scoffed, choosing the one on the left while he moved to the right. She inserted the proper number of tokens before smiling satisfied at the way the machine lit up. “I’m a beast at this game. Maehara can tell you himself how I literally destroyed everyone at this last summer.”

Kimura did the same and they both waited for the number of balls to roll down towards them. “Huh. We’ll see about that.”

“Just shut up and play already.” She had already thrown her first ball, smirking at how it fell into an 100 point slot. “Ha!”

“Lucky shot,” Kimura mumbled, tossing his first one. It fell into the Zero slot, much to his disappointment. “Shit...”

Thankfully, Okano didn’t pay attention. She was much too preoccupied with tossing her own balls, which all landed in the 100 or 250 slots. 

Kimura picked up the pace and continued his game. He groaned as all of them fell into the 10 point slots. The number of tickets coming out on his end was nothing compared to Okano’s long chain. Well...maybe my pitching is shit after all, like Sugino said. I should fix this...

“Done!” Okano shouted, throwing her last ball that fell into the 100 slot. She grinned at her list of tickets before looking over at him. “What’d I tell you, huh?” 

Kimura rolled his eyes, grabbing his final ball. Gritting his teeth, he tossed it with a carefull turn of his wrist. He watched in anticipation as the ball glided over all the slots...before falling right into the 5000 slot.

“Oh shit!”

“Woah!” Okano yelled, her eyes wide. “Oh my god, Kimura! You got the highest number!”

“I did!” He shouted back, somewhat in a daze. 

“That’s amazing!”

For a moment, it was like they weren’t rivals. Just a moment though.

Okano punched his shoulder, her lips curved. “Beginner’s luck,” she teased, but the fire never left her eyes.

Kimura laughed before his gaze fell back on his tickets. “Ah...it’s taking a while, isn’t it?”

Okano looked at it with a frown, pursing her lips. “It shouldn’t be.”

“Let’s give it another minute,” he suggested.

Five minutes later, Kimura felt like screaming. “My major accomplishment!” He sighed dramatically. “And no one was around to see it but you!”

Okano rolled her eyes, hopping off the floor where they’d been crouching. “Get up. Let’s go find a staff member.”

“Yeah...” Kimura stood up, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Uh hello? What are you staring at?” He questioned.

No answer, as Okano looked thoughtfully at the game machine. “Earth to Okano~” He sang, waving a hand in her face.

Then she did it.

Something he hadn’t expected, but really it shouldn’t have even surprised him.

Okano swung her leg out before letting it collide against the machine’s ticket base. A booming thud rang out.

And almost immediately, tickets began streaming out. 

Kimura’s jaw dropped.

“There, it’s all fixed,” Okano smiled with a shrug.

“Are you crazy?” The words escaped his mouth instantly. “You pulled out some assassin moves just to fix a ticket machine?!”

“Well yeah~You can get your tickets now!”

“How did you even know that would work?! And doesn’t your foot hurt like hell?”

Okano laughed. “Honestly, I had no idea if it would work. But it did!” She glanced at her foot. “And it doesn’t hurt. That part of the machine is pretty hollow, and my foot has hit harder things so...”

Kimura frowned at her.

“I promise it’s fine!” Okano held her hands up. “Woah...look at your tickets! I think you can get a stuffed animal with this number!”

“Yeah maybe-” Kimura was cut off by a stern voice barking at them.

“Hey! You kids!”

They both jolted up as one of the mall security guards stormed towards them, followed by as pissed-off arcade worker, who pointed at them. “Those kids broke the machine to steal extra tickets!”

Kimura felt his mouth go dry. Still he tried to shout, “Wait no! It’s a misunderstanding, I got 5000! But it got stuck-”

And then he was cut off by Okano yanking his arm away with a strength he could only imagine having. The next few seconds felt like a blur and before he knew it, the two of them were running in the lobby of the mall.

“Come on, you idiot! You’re the fastest runner in the class, act like it!” Okano yelled, purposely agitating him. Still, Kimura fell for it and his speed increased immensely in just a second. Now, Okano was trying to catch up to him. 

Kimura dashed through the numbers of people walking by, being mindful to dodge anyone, especially the elderly or some children... He shouted out a “Sorry!” and an “Excuse me!” as he moved.

It sounded odd but he could hear Okano’s footsteps behind him, even amongst the clusters of normal civilians. Probably from all the times they trained together. Her steps were light and bouncy, barely touching the floor as she kept a stable balance. He always thought to himself how Okano moved like she could walk on air.

He made a sharp turn around a mall corner, narrowly avoiding a collision with three girls just trying to walk by. “Ah, I’m so sorry!”

“What the hell- wait...Kimura?” One of the girls breathed.

Kimura’s head snapped up at the familiar tone and he realized in horror who the girls were. “Kataoka! Yada! Kurahashi!” He laughed sheepishly. “How’s your shopping going?”

“Fine~!” Kurahashi chirped, somehow balancing five huge bags on one of her arms alone.

Kimura smiled at her. “That’s good...” He laughed nervously again. “Well, I should continue on my way-”

Kataoka leveled him a sharp glare, leaning in closer. “What do you think you’re doing, running around the mall like a maniac? And where’s Hinata?!”

“Uhm...”

“There you are!” All four of them jolted, looking up to see the security guard. Standing right beside him was a very annoyed-looking Okano, crossing her arms. Ah, so she got caught...

“I’m gonna need you to come to our office,” the guard spoke sternly, looking straight at Kimura. 

He sighed, stepping forward to comply before passing a pleading glance to the girls. Kurahashi frowned, Yada sighed, and Kataoka shut her eyes irritably. Then she spoke. “Officer...we’re friends with them, so we’ll come along too, if that’s okay.”

“Alright then.”

The girls followed them warily and Kataoka leaned in to whisper to Yada. “I hope your negotiating skills will come in handy now...”

..............

________

“Oh man,” Maehara wheezed, clutching his stomach. “Banned from the mall for a month?!” He burst out laughing again.

“Yeah...” Kimura’s head was dropped into his arms, which rested on the table of the cafe they were at.

“I’m glad you find this act of immaturity so funny,” Kataoka commented dryly, taking another sip of her latte. The liquid scorched her throat a bit, but she needed the caffeine at that moment. 

“Actually, I find it hilarious,” Maehara corrected. “Seriously, how did all that even happen? Why’d you run away?”

“I’d like to know too,” Isogai chimed in tiredly.

“Uh, haven’t you heard of fleeing from the scene of a crime?” Okano snapped, but it lacked its usual bite as she reached over for her hot chocolate.

“That only works if you can’t get caught,” Yada pointed out with a giggle, adjusting her scarf.

“Aw man,” Maehara chuckled, toning it down at the sight of Okano’s pout. “It’s okay guys. We’ll laugh about this in the future.”

“You’re laughing about it now,” Kataoka muttered sourly.

Maehara ignored her. “One day, we’ll look back on this as a super fond memory,” he said confidently, throwing an arm around Kimura.

“Not to mention, it was pretty cool how you used your kick, Hina!” Kurahashi chimed in, hugging her.

“Yeah, pretty badass,” Isogai agreed, flashing her a smile.

Okano’s lips curved up. “Thanks, guys...”

“I guess the whole thing was pretty ridiculous,” Kimura said. “Sorry for stressing you out, Kataoka...”

She waved him off but her gaze softened. “Just don’t let this happen ever again.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Maehara clasped his heads behind his head. “Ah, by the way, I’m gonna have to leave sooner than I thought.”

Yada squinted at him. “...Why?”

“Well, there’s this Christmas event at another store where they need a guy in a Santa costume...and you know...the elves are all pretty girls, so I gotta help them out-”

All his friends let out a collective groan. 

[mostlymobilegames]

Your touch could never harm me

pairing: Dino x MC

characters: Dino, MC (Vicky)

warnings: none, it’s nothing but fluff (and me getting a little too into describing some kinda?? gross things, but it’s not too explicit... I think)

word count: 1,200+

summary: After the Tournament, Vicky decides to check up on her winner and when she finds him preoccupied, she decides to help out.

author’s note: a moment like this has been stuck in my head forever and I finally wrote it :)))) also, I know nothing about wings or how they work

●●●

As I make my way to Dino’s room, I can’t stop my mind from drifting to Lucifer’s words from earlier. Is Malbonte sending us these visions? It seems so strange, but then again, too many things have happened for it to be just a legend, and yet no one is doing anything about it. 

As I reach Dino’s door, I shake my head to get rid of a possible headache  before going in without knocking.

Any greeting that I had prepared gets stuck in my throat as Dino looks up at me, a confused expression on his face. 

“Vicky?”

He’s standing in front of a full length mirror with no shirt on, holding a small, oval-shaped glass bottle in his hands, filled with an unusually colored liquid, his hair tied up in a comfortable ponytail. I can’t stop myself from admiring his body, so effortlessly perfect it nearly takes my breath away. This is truly an angel.

“Is everything ok?” he asks, making my eyes rise up to his.

There’s slight amusement on his face and no sign of offense at catching me staring, which only makes me more embarrassed. I inhale, trying to regain some of my composure before speaking.

“I just... wanted to congratulate you again, since we didn’t get to talk too much, so... congratulations!” 

“Thank you.” he whispers after a long pause, looking at me so intensely it takes all of my willpower not to shiver. Something impossible to discern dances in his eyes as he keeps his expression neutral. 

“What are you doing?” I ask, mostly out of curiosity and in an attempt at getting rid of the awkwardness.

For the first time since I came in, Dino seems... somewhat shy, as if he preferred not to answer my question. Before I get the chance to say something else, he slightly shakes his head before explaining.

“The lower parts of my wings get really irritated from overstraining. It’s nothing bad or dangerous, but it can be annoying and distracting if the itchiness becomes unbearable.”

He lifts up the small bottle so I can see it better and I realize the “liquid” has a thicker consistency, almost like a hand cream... that is colored in possibly the ugliest shades of green and brown.

“This helps. I started using it when I was younger and it has always soothed the pain. It’s just... hard to apply.”

He looks at me, clearly awaiting a reaction as I try to keep my face straight. An image of Dino struggling to twist his arms behind his back after an exhausting day pops into my head. My heart tightens thinking of the discomfort he must be in so often. A thought appears in my mind and I verbalize it before I can stop.

“May I help you?”

Dino’s eyes widen, surprise taking over his face.

“You don’t have to.” he says firmly, letting me know there’s no obligation.

“I know. I want to. And don’t act like I’m doing some grand gesture after what you did in front of everyone.”

He snorts and his gaze immediately turns soft, so soft I feel like he’s peeling the layers of my soul with just his eyes.

“Well then...” I take the bottle from him and remove its cork, dipping my finger in the gooey substance. Out of pure idiocy, I take a whiff and instantly regret it as a foul and very acidic odour burns my nose.

“Shepha, what’s in this?! It stinks so bad!” I exclaim, turning my head away.

Dino grins cheekily.

“If I tell you the ingredients, you’ll definitely change your mind about helping me.”

“Yeah, yeah” I roll my eyes in spite of my smile “Turn around.”

Without another word, Dino faces the mirror, presenting his wide and muscular back to me. His wings spread a little on each side, allowing me to get closer without getting hit in the face. The area at the base along with the “roots” of the wings are visibly irritated, the skin has turned a dark shade of red and some parts look like dead skin on humans. There are scars of various shapes everywhere, probably from all the intense training throughout the years.

Dino...

I stop myself from getting emotional and pour more of the concoction into my hand. Pushing down the urge to gag at the stench, I reach the spot between his shoulder blades and massage it gently. The patch of skin begins sizzling while small bubbles of blood form and burst in a matter of seconds. Dino hisses, but stops almost just as fast and makes no other sound or move. Still, his reaction doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” I can’t stop a hint of desperation from coming out. Shepha, why didn’t I just let him do it when I don’t know what I’m doing?

“It’s okay.” His voice is delicate, like he’s calming down a child from a tantrum. He turns his head to look at me over his shoulders, keeping the rest of his body still.

“It’s okay... it’s always like this.”

He stops when our gazes meet, his face so serene and gentle, like his back didn’t start bleeding a moment ago. I calm down easily under his half-lidded eyes before he continues in a low voice.

“And besides... even if you wanted to, your touch could never harm me.”

He turns his head, facing the mirror entirely and I can see his eyes close in the reflection as a wave of peace washes over him, so strong and pure I feel it in my own energy.

“Never...” he repeats in a whisper, so quiet I can’t tell if he said it to me, or to himself.

Never.

I take a deep breath and force myself to continue, despite my trembling fingers. I lose track of time as Dino’s skin contracts violently under every touch, his occasional short huffs and hisses being the only sounds disturbing the silence between us. The intimacy of this moment makes the outside world, the rules, the people, the struggles, all fade away. Everything feels so insignificant when the only thing that matters is our matching heartbeats.

Eventually, Dino’s wings flutter faintly and he clears his throat.

“That’s enough.” 

He turns around fully, looking down at me with so much adoration I want to cover my face.

“Vicky, I...” he stops and grabs my wrist, lifting it to his mouth and kissing the back of my hand.

“Thank you... so much.” he murmurs, rubbing my wrist carefully while his other hand touches my cheek for a moment.

“I need to stay like this for a bit, until it fully dissolves into my skin. I also need to clean up.”

He doesn’t let me get a word in.

“I’ll do it myself, don’t worry. But... I’ll see you later?” 

Dino’s expression is blank, but I can see the pure glee in his eyes.

“Of course!” I nod enthusiastically, to which he laughs softly before I rise on my toes and kiss his cheek, shutting him up. 

Leaving Dino’s room with a small wave and a smile, I can't help but think about how he's been taking care of himself for so long... on his own.

As I think about us on my way back to my room, I feel a new warmth spreading in my chest and I know that we’ll be okay, no matter what happens.

[flipper-kisses]

Threesome fix, olllllllld request. Lots of smut. Over 18s only please folks. I will add a cut shortly.

3.

“Truth or dare?” I lazily asked my boyfriend Rami. I was lying across his lap on my couch in our apartment. We’d just had a Friday night party and it was just me, him and his best friend, Joe left lazing around. We’d been drinking, and now faced with the task of cleaning up, none of us wanted to start.

“Truth,” Rami answered.

“You’re so boring,” I teased. “Ok, um, do you pick your nose?”

“Ugh, no!”

“Liar!” Joe snorted.

“Truth or dare, baby?” Rami asked me.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to tell Joe what you told me last week.”

“What! Rami...no. That is so embarrassing!” I cried, pulling a pillow over my face.

“You said dare.”

My voice was muffled by the pillow. “Isaidiwanttohaveathreesomewithyouandjoe.”

Joe sat up, aghast. “What was that?”

Rami tickled my sides and I yanked the pillow away from my face and whacked him with it. He and Joe were both staring at me with dark eyes and I flushed bright pink.

“I think I heard you but I’m not positive. What did you say?” Joe asked, sliding off the armchair and scooting over next to me on the couch.

“Tell him,” Rami pushed.

I sighed. “I said, I want to have a threesome with you and Joe.” I rolled my eyes. “We were joking around and Rami asked me my ultimate fantasy and I said that and that’s why I said it and I’m so embarrassed I want to die.” It all came out in one breath and I hid back under my pillow.

“Hey....don’t be embarrassed, baby,” Rami said softly. “I’m sorry for making you say it...but if it’s something you really want, we could make it happen.”

I lowered the pillow so just my eyes peeked over the top. I looked from Rami to Joe and back again.

“Now?”

Each man nodded.

“Have you two...discussed this already?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Maybe,” Joe smiled and I softened. He was so damned cute.

“Is this what you want?” Rami asked, tangling his fingers in my hair and pulling me into a deep kiss. At the same time, Joe ran his hands up my thighs, brushing ever so lightly over my core. I gasped into Rami’s mouth, the shock of a second pair of hands on me sending chills up my spine. Rami smiled and cupped my face.

“Yes, I want this,” I breathed and he pecked my nose.

“Are you sure?” asked Joe. “Because if we start, I might not be able to stop.”

I nodded and he smiled again. Tentatively, I reached for Joe’s face and brushed my hand over his bristled cheek. My eyes flicked to his lips and back up to his hazel gaze.

“Can I kiss you?” I asked.

He nodded almost imperceptibly and I leaned in, grazing his lips with mine, trying to get a feel for him. I hadn’t kissed anyone but Rami for over a year. I was used to his mouth, his sounds, his reactions. The way Joe reacted was completely different. He took his time exploring my kisses with his, slipping his tongue between my lips when I moaned, Rami’s hands finding their way under my shirt to my breasts. I lifted my arms so they could slip my shirt over my head. Joe’s eyes widened when he saw I wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” Rami asked.

Joe stood up, pulling me with him. He ran his hands down my arms and stopped at the waistband of my leggings. I put my hands over his and urged him to pull them down my legs. He swallowed hard and I blushed.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he murmured and Rami pulled me back onto the couch. He leaned me back and kissed down my neck, stopping at my collarbone to give his favorite spot special attention. He sucked a mark into my skin, and I looked at Joe, who had sat back down next to me, watching.

“Are you gonna sit there and stare or are you going to touch me?” I took his hand and placed it on my chest, and he bit his bottom lip, trailing his fingers over me. He brought his head down to take my nipple into his mouth and I swallowed a moan from the sensation of two warm mouths on my sensitive skin.

Rami brought his lips to mine again and I reveled in the familiar taste of my boyfriend. I reached for his shirt, tugging it over his head and running my fingertips over his smooth, muscular chest. Joe released my nipple and I turned to him, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off his shoulders. I looked him up and down and bit my lip. I rose to my knees, and ran my hands up his chest and down his back. He reached up to kiss me and his hands snaked around my waist. He pulled me to him, skin to skin, and his strong arms held me tight.

“I dare you to suck his cock,” Rami whispered in my ear.

I looked up at Joe and his dark eyes gave me permission. He quickly unbuckled his belt and yanked his pants down, freeing himself.

“Get on all fours, love,” Rami urged and I obliged, taking Joe into my mouth as I did. He groaned softly and his head fell back as I swirled my tongue around his sensitive tip. Rami flipped onto his back and slid under me, his mouth finding my aching center and I hummed around Joe.

Joe threaded his fingers in my hair and pushed himself deeper into my mouth, and I dragged my tongue up his entire length.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed and Rami pulled my hips down so I was basically sitting on his face. He wrapped his arms around my thighs to keep me in place and scratched his nails on my skin lightly, adding to the sensation of his mouth on me.

“Oh fuck...” I gasped, releasing Joe from my mouth and closing my eyes. I ground my hips against Rami’s tongue and felt myself getting close to coming. I felt myself tighten and he did as well, and immediately stopped and let me go.

“You little shit,” I teased and kissed him.

“He’s going to make you come. I make you come all the time. You wanted this, baby. So I dare you. I dare you to come on Joe’s cock,” Rami said darkly. “Be right back.” He walked toward our bedroom, leaving me and Joe alone and naked in the living room.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” Joe whispered.

“Then do it.” I looked up at him through my eyelashes.

Joe slid his hand around my neck and pulled me to him. He kissed me hungrily, and I tangled my fingers in his hair. His kisses were sweet, tasting of the bourbon he’d been nursing just before this started.

I heard Rami come back into the room and his hands were on my back immediately.

“Here,” he said and passed Joe a condom. I pulled away from Joe and kissed Rami while Joe was getting himself situated.

“Ready, baby?”

I nodded. “You’re ok with this, Rami?”

“Hell yes. No worries, I want you to enjoy yourself.”

“I love you,” I reminded him.

“I know.”

I turned back to Joe and practically launched myself at him, pressing my lips to his. He carefully laid me down on the couch and dragged his tongue up my stomach, over my breasts and sucked on the same spot Rami had on my collarbone, just on the other side, leaving a matching mark from him.

His lips found mine and he eased himself into me, allowing me to adjust to him. I stared up at him and he winked at me.

“Goddamn you feel good,” he said and I squeezed around him in response, making him groan.

Rami watched with intense eyes, letting his best friend fuck his girlfriend right there on the living room couch. I sighed and Joe began to move his hips, slow and deep. Rami came over and knelt down next to me, brushed the hair out of my face and kissed me.

“Tell him what you want,” he commanded.

“Harder, please,” I whined.

Joe snapped his hips harder, and I arched up against him, my nails digging into his back, Rami continuing to kiss my lips, my neck, my chest, anywhere he could reach.

“Just like that, Joe, more.” He complied and bottomed out inside me again, hitting a spot I didn’t know existed, making me let out a long moan.

“I know for a fact you can be louder that that, baby,” Rami teased. He bent his head and wrapped his lips around my nipple and I cried out loudly, and he smirked at me.

“That’s my girl.”

“Fuck I’m getting close,” Joe hissed and I reached up to pull his face to mine. He stared into my eyes as his hips pounded into mine harder and faster until he emptied himself inside of me. His moans were guttural and loud, which made me start to come undone seconds after he did. As soon as Rami saw I was coming, he started whispering the filthiest things in my ear.

“That’s it, baby, come on his cock. Show him how much you love it.”

I pulled Rami’s face to mine to kiss him while I came around Joe, whispering Rami’s name against his lips. Joe slowly pulled out of me and fell back on his heels, breathing heavily. Rami held me in his strong arms as I drifted back to earth. He kissed my forehead and nose and Joe pulled a blanket over me from the back of the couch. He leaned down and kissed me gently one last time and I smiled against his lips.

“You’re fucking amazing, Joe,” I whispered in his ear. “Thank you.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, sweetheart.” He eased up off the couch and went into the bathroom to clean up.

Rami lifted the blanket and tucked his warm body against mine. My fingers found him underneath and I took him into my hand.

“Mmmm, baby, don’t you worry about me,” he murmured against my cheek. “When it’s just you and me, I have some other dares in mind.”