#I might just draw her wearing the dress I have that I like the most
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ari’s reaction if bird tried to walk out the house with this on 👀
Untitled Sweet Renegade Series Ask & Drabble
Please enjoy the Sweet Renegades Series Drabble found after the cut. Warnings include: Mature Themes, Implied Smut, Ari Being a Possessive Menace, Brat!Reader, Manhandling, Crude Language, and Cursing. Minors DNI.
Listen, Ari considers himself to be a rather progressive man. He has two sisters that he respects and adores. And a little niece that fills him with pride. He plans to teach his nephew about the importance of respecting women - of treating them with the utmost reverence and care.
However, the moment Ari laid eyes on his sweet, stubborn little Bird, it was if something in him snapped. It came from somewhere deep. Primal. And the beast in him demanded that he stake his claim. Before her, Ari had never really considered himself to be the possessive type. He just assumed that jealousy wasn't a part of his makeup.
But now? Her smile. Her laugh. Her light. Every delicate inch of her gorgeous curvy body. All of it belongs to him. In the most primal, feral sense.
And he does not like to share.
So, while he wants to encourage Bird as she continues down the path of consistent, healthy body positivity, he's also man enough to admit that that there's no way in hell he'd let her fine ass out of the house wearing a dress like that. And here's why:
"Baby..." He rasps, caging you in as he backs you against the door. "You look fucking stunning." Two thick fingers trail their way down your body, stopping once they reach the valley between your breasts. "But I'm afraid I can't let you leave. Not while you're wearin' that."
"What's wrong with it?" Your words come out as a gasp when you feel a hand wind its way into your curls, holding you still as he continues his assault. The seconds drag on as his head dips, his mouth finding yours.
"Because, sweet Bird." Ari presses, forcing you to take his delicious weight. Making your pulse spike as he grinds his increasingly hard cock against your abdomen.
"B-because?"
"Because..." He draws out the word as he wrenches your head back so that he can whisper maddening little love bites along the curve of your jaw. "This is the kinda dress you wear when you're out with your man." You have a hard time breathing as his free hand skims lower before coming to rest on the swell of your bottom.
"Oh yeah?" You continue to goad - against your better judgement.
To be honest, you'd known what you were risking when you saw the dress hanging on the rack. You had no business playing with fire. But that's part of what made all of this so fun.
"Absolutely." Ari's normally bright blue eyes darken with arousal as he watches your chest heave. Almost as if he's imagining what it might be like to slowly peel the garment off you, piece by piece. "Because these hips and that ass - they're enough to give a man ideas."
His soft lips find their way to your ear, his warm breath making you shiver.
"And when they start wantin' to entertain those ideas," he muses, more to himself than you. "I need to be there as your man to shut 'em down."
"I see." A sharp nip of teeth has you clenching your thighs together.
"Because I am the only man who's allowed to know what it's like to bury myself between those luscious thighs." Using two fingers, he tips up your chin, wordlessly demanding that he look you in the eyes. "And only I get to know what you taste like when you cum on my tongue. Which therefore makes me the only man with exclusive rights to your tight, little pussy."
"Okay Beast." You can't help the giggle that bubbles its way out of your throat. "I think you've made your point."
"Have I, little Bird?" He growls, releasing his grip on your chin to capture your wrists, trapping them above your head. "Or do I need to remind you that I'm not the sharing type?"
The steady tick in his jaw lets you know that you and your dress have once again pushed this man to the edge. But the real question was...
Just what did you plan to do about it?
Batting your lashes up at him, you decide it's time to let the brat in you win out once and for all. Go big or go home, you know?
"Eh, it's been awhile, big guy." You purr, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. "I'm thinkin' you might need to refresh my memory."
END
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#cevansbrat0007 asks#cevansbrat0007 sweet renegade series#chris evans imagines#ari levinson imagines#chris evans fanfiction#ari levinson fanfiction#chris evans x you#ari levinson x you#chris evans x black!reader#ari levinson x black!reader#chris evans x woc!reader#ari levinson x woc!reader#chris evans x black reader#ari levinson x black reader#chris evans smut#ari levinson smut#chris evans x reader#chris evans x female!reader#chris evans x girlfriend!reader#ari levinson x reader#ari levinson x female!reader#ari levinson x girlfriend!reader#chris evans x poc!reader#ari levinson x yn#chris evans x yn#ari levinson x y/n#chris evans x y/n#ari levinson girlfriend!reader#chris evans x curvy!reader#ari levinson x curvy!reader
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It would be so big brained if I drew (critter) Scribbly wearing the dress I’m going to wear to a wedding I’m going to in September in preparation for ep 4. However the problem is I don’t know what dress I’ll wear
#I might just draw her wearing the dress I have that I like the most#it’s a black dress but. whatever#scribbly says
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Only the best Kings wear pink! Pt 1
Pt 2
Danny had decided, inter-lair political party meeting briefings were a truly underutilized form of torture that he personally thought should be inflicted upon only the worst kinds of criminals; not your King.
Fright Knight disagreed.
At least he finally let him move around instead of suffering through forced resurrection via boredom (it’s happened before, not a fun meeting). That being said, he would admit to being a little distracted by all the servants rushing around frantically. It had even managed to distract Fright.
No one seemed panicked so clearly it wasn’t an attack, but what….
Danny felt someone staring at him. He covertly nodded to Fright to keep talking as he created an invisible clone to search for his stalker.
He didn’t have to look far, they weren’t hiding very well. Not 20 ft away a young ghost gawked at him from behind a column. She had her glowing blonde hair in 2 braided pigtails and her ragged dress looked like she came from one of the medieval lairs. Danny carefully kneeled down, trying to make himself look small as he tapped her on the shoulder.
The little girl spun around, clearly terrified at being caught. Danny gave her a soft smile.
“Please don’t eat me Mr Ghost King sir!!!” She cried out.
Danny snorted and burst out laughing. His booming laughter echoed though the castle walls causing many of the servants to pause in their search.
“Now why in the realms would you think I’m going to eat you?!” Danny asked though his chuckles. “You wouldn’t be more than a bite full at best.” He poked her sides causing her to giggle.
“Would too! I’m bigger the Sally!” She paused, rethinking her words. “But I’d taste quite foul! I would, I swear!”
Danny grinned turning to Fright Knight. The little ghost squeaked when she saw the Spirit of Halloween and backed into the King causing her to freeze.
Danny gently picked her up, cradling her in one arm. “Did you hear that Fright?! She said she’d taste foul!” He smirked “I suppose there’s only one thing to do then!”
Fright Knight eyed his King a bit warily, still not used to his antics. “Sire?”
Danny grinned, motioning to one of the nervous maids. “We‘ll have to sweeten her up!”
Miette bowed before her King, trying to hide her nervous glances at the girl.
“Miette! Would you be a dear and prepare some sweets and tea in the garden for my honored guest? Fright, will you be joining us?” Danny asked the startled Knight.
“As you wish my Liege, though…might I request some pumpkin pie?” He asked Miette.
The maid blinked at the request.
“Of course Sir Fright.” She answered a bit dazed.
“Wonderful! We’ll meet you in the garden after we swing by Spectre’s quarters.” He grinned down at the frightened ghost. “Every princess must look her best for afternoon tea after all!”
The little girl frowned. “But I’m not a princess?” She said, tilting her head.
“Of course you are! Every little girl is a princess! That’s just a fact of life.” Danny nodded solemnly.
“But we’re not alive?” She pouted “Mummy said so!”
Danny shrugged. “That doesn’t change much, I’m still alive after all so it still counts.” He said finally.
They stopped in front of two massive doors covered in random drawing. Danny knocked on the door. The little ghost shrunk back in Danny’s arms.
The door opened to reveal a young ghost, not much bigger than the one in his arms.
“Hey Ellie!” Danny grinned. “Do you have any princess dresses left or did you set them all on fire?”
Ellie groaned. “Lilac just restocked the closet. You’d think she’d learn by now.”
Danny grinned. “Perfect! Would you mind helping our guest into one of them? She’s joining us for tea!”
Ellie floated up to see the tiny ghost trying to make herself smaller in her dad’s arms.
“Oh? And who are you?” She asked curiously.
“Emma.” She squeaked. Ellie grinned.
“Alright Emma, how do you feel about pink?!”
———
A little while latter you could find the Ghost King: ruler of the infinite realms, Fright Knight: the most feared general of the Kings legion and little Emma: the little princess from 2 Lairs over (only on the 5th of each month); newly decked out in a glowing tiara and the frilliest pink dress Ellie could find (with no singes); all sitting in the Royal gardens in Phantoms keep debating the merits of pink sparkles vs rainbow glitter.
Her mother nearly wept in relief that her daughter was safe, though she was a bit dazed by what she was seeing.
“You must be Emma’s mum!” Danny grinned. “We were just finishing up afternoon tea.
Emma jumped from her seat and raced over to her mummy to tell her all about her day.
“I’m so sorry for my daughter’s intrusion, your majesty!” She cried out, fear outweighing shock as she quickly bowed.
“Nonsense!” Danny laughed, looking down at Emma. “You’re welcome here anytime Emma. After all, you never did tell me what happened to you Aunt Agatha.” He smiled “You’ll have to finish your story next time.”
Emma ran up to give Danny a hug, he happily picked her up and held the young ghost.
“Thank you for the tea and cakes Mr ghost king! Can I bring Beatrice next time? She’ll never believe me otherwise!”
Danny chuckled. “The more the merrier, though I suggest you give your mother some proper warning before you run off to strange lairs without permission.”
Emma pouted. “I promise!” She swore as Danny handed her to her mother.
Danny was a little sad to see the little girl go but he had plenty of work to do.
“Sire, shall we continue the briefing?” Fright Knight piped up.
Danny groan, Fright Knight grinned. (He liked his new king)
———
The next month, when the lairs lined up once more Danny was greeted with the grinning Emma, the frightened faces of at least 6 other little ghosts and the nervous form of Emma’s mother.
Danny grinned. “Miette!” He shouted behind him. “Can you bring some more tables to the gardens. It looks like we’re having a proper tea party this time!”
And so began to annual monthly tea party at Phantom’s keep.
(Lilac was so glad to see all the dresses she made put to good use)
#danny phantom#ghost king danny#dc x dp#danny fenton#little ghosts#tea parties#will be dcxdp in the next part#dead on main#in the next part#I don’t normally write that ship but it fits#Miette is living her best death
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୨ৎ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 𝓑𝓡𝓞𝓣𝓗𝓔𝓡 𝓕𝓤𝓒𝓚𝓔𝓡, sukuna ryomen !
boyfriend’s older brother!sukuna. while little bro yuji spits up his liquor in the bathroom, sukuna takes care of his girl, finally fucking her like she deserves.
ಇ. summary. sukuna brother au, fem reader, infidelity, yuji throws up so emeto. warning, manipulation, pussy slapping, biting, some predator/prey elements, size kink, dumbification, squirting, reader is intoxicated but aware, rough kuna but he switches up:3, regret/moral conflict, angst towards the end cuz ‘m a certified yapper. wc, 4.6k.
ಇ. note. been a whore for sukuna lately but i fully blame gege for drawing him so majestic. if evil then why gorgeous, hm??? we’re onto u gege. we know u love a felon. confess already.
the door to the itadori household bursts open and in floods a typhoon of drunken chaos and laughter.
drowning in giggles, yuji has his arm thrown over your aching shoulders, humming along to some kind of song. without you, he wouldn't be upright—a jumbling, intoxicated mess.
you're mostly sober, fighting to get him to the bathroom since he was heaving in the taxi.
"whyyy do ya build me upp~" he slurs, a bumbling flurried version of himself, smothering your cheek in wet kisses that have you wriggling away. "butterrrcuppp baby, jus' t'let me downnn...!"
"yuji!" you shriek, the weight of him growing more unbearable as you try to keep him up. his breath is drenched with the heavy scent of liquor. "baby, y'gotta focus or we're not gonna make it to the—"
"—and mess m'rounddd!"
"yuji—'nuff!" you groan loudly as he drapes himself over. at this rate, you might just collapse into a heap on the floor, overcome by his weight as well as the lesser, still relevant amount of alcohol you consumed at the club.
suddenly, the patter of footsteps have you perking up. sukuna—yuji's big brother—rounds the corner, gaunt features sharp with agitation. he must've woken up when the two of you came barreling in.
"sukuna—hi," you can't help the relief that bursts through your chest, evident in the way you exhale.
sukuna notes the way your knees tremble, his brother blabbering embarrassingly on top of you. he puts aside the urge to laugh, figuring he'd spare you just this once.
"here. i got 'im." without any trouble, sukuna drags his little brother under his arm, putting your strength to shame. with the weight lifted, you finally have chance to relax, rolling your arm and letting out a loud sigh of relief.
"thank you. ow—pain."
you stumble, and the broader of the two brothers chuckles, crimson gaze soaking up your body in that dress while you're distracted. "you carried him all the way home?"
"mhm. practically sprawled out on my lap in the taxi. the driver and i had to team up to get him outta there," you whine as you kick off your heels. those stupid things had you wincing terribly most of the night. yuji said they were sexy. as much as you love him, you’re more than sure you will not be wearing them again anytime soon.
"you should've called me." sukuna's features scrunch in disgust as yuji keeps singing in his hold.
"i-i-i neeeeed youu~"
"fuckin' a, did he drink the whole bar?"
"pretty much," you reply, shrugging off your coat and following behind the pair of brothers. yuji looks so funny, almost small despite his lean stature, looking deceivingly short compared to sukuna. "he made a bet with todo and lost."
the sober man grunts as he knocks open the bathroom door, holding up yuji in his other arm. his muscles flex underneath his shirt, stretching the dark cotton, where your eyes briefly linger.
you avert your attention to yuji instead, amusement melting into concern for your boyfriend.
not sharing the same sentiment, sukuna drops him down by the toilet, putting up the lid with a smack and purposely shoving yuji's head into the bowl a little harder than necessary. "theree ya go, dumbass," sukuna grunts, slapping his back as he finally pukes up. "just barely made it."
and you're sure glad he did, thanking the gods your dress had been spared amidst the drama. with the way he'd been acting, you were never sure that you would be safe from the bile climbing his throat, cringing fearfully at times.
you feel much better now that sukuna has taken over. he's older, well-versed in trivial matters like this. yuji's already told you all about his university days, the drunken nights, the fighting—
you curse your thoughts for sprawling so suddenly, shooing off your rodent-like curiosity.
their relationship struggled at times. especially so back then, but things are different now. and as much as sukuna pretends not to care for his little brother, he clearly does, at least a little. after all, the pink tresses of your boyfriends hair are ruffled in his thick hand before he lets go fully.
then sukuna walks on in a rugged stride, leaving yuji to it. on the way out, he knocks your shoulder with his. you can't tell if the action was playful, but you’re sure it wasn't hostile, at least. a little smile creeps onto your lips as your gaze follows him into the kitchen.
sukuna is weird.
he's weird because he's not like yuji in most ways; it's not necessarily a bad thing, but he's much, much harder to see through. with your boyfriend, most things are crystal clear. you can tell what he wants, what he needs, how he needs it. he'll tell you all about it—unselfishly, of course.
however, sukuna, you find, never reads so easily. and it's weird. you can't tell if you prefer it that way, or if you'd rather know what he's thinking.
especially since you're certain you just caught his eyes slithering along your curves.
anyway.
wanting to give yuji some privacy, you pull the door shut, the sound of his gags growing muffled. you half-jog-half-limp to the kitchen, preparing a glass of cold water to ease his throat once it's all over.
unbothered, sukuna leans his back against the counter, scrolling on his phone like this is just another night to him. it's weird.
you start wondering, drawing up the conclusion that this might be first time you and him have ever been alone, in a way. yuji is there, but not really, if you know what i mean. not mentally, anyway.
before you can finish that thought, you deliver the glass to yuji, crouching down to his level and rubbing his back with careful affection. "got you some water, baby. right here, by your hand." you take it gently, guiding it towards the glass.
he's not throwing up so much now, just laying there, waiting for the next wave of nausea to crash over him. his fingers respond to the glass, wrapping around it. "thanks, hic—y're so good t'me..."
you smile warmly, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek. you couldn't care less that he reeks of all kinds of concoctions and puke all rolled up together, wanting to be there for him regardless as you know he would for you.
you whisper a few more reassuring words to him before taking your leave, giving him some time to recover by himself. the bathroom door clicks shut. forgetting all about the third party, you let your back press against it, head jilting as a sigh slips out.
"he worn ya down that much?" sukuna snorts at the display, looking up from his phone.
despite your initial surprise, you laugh too. "he doesn't usually. it's just... been a busy night, i guess. i think he'll pass out in there."
sukuna briefly dips his head into the fridge, getting out a chartreuse-tinted bottle of something. "one would hope. you want one?"
"you're being weirdly nice." you blurt suspiciously, smirking. oh god. maybe the alcohol was starting to work you over, too, because you definitely weren't supposed to say that. sometimes it's better not to ask, someone told you once.
sukuna pulls a face that makes you wish you could crawl out of your skin on command, even though there's technically logic behind your last words.
"am i usually mean?"
"n-no, i just mean—" fuck, stop talking. with growing embarrassment, you shake your head, "nothing. sorry. that was assumptive."
the way you initially scrambled to answer appealed to some wicked humor in him as he laughed. "yeah, it was. so yes or no?"
"yes," you sigh, shoulders slumping in admission, knowing you probably needed it. especially after whatever that was. your head is pounding—god, someone should put me down.
sukuna opens up your bottle with his teeth as you hop up on the counter, watching each other. all had gone quiet behind you. sukuna handed you the drink with the lid still between his teeth, venom swirling in his eyes when he saw the way yours lingered on the gesture.
slowly, you took the bottle, pressing the rim up to your lips before taking a sip. it bubbles in your mouth, sparkling on your tongue before you swallow it down. the burn is a little unpleasant, but you manage.
"any good?" sukuna asks.
"'s okay," you shrug, reading the bottle, pretending like any of it made sense. "a little bitter."
"you like 'em sweet?" the taller man frowns, sorting through the cupboards for something that you're too immersed to ask about.
"kinda. but too much makes me sick," you explain, scrunching your nose at the thought. "i like a balance."
"oh, really?" sukuna snorts as if you've just said the funniest thing in the world.
in one confused motion, you lower your brows. and jilt your head, wondering what's with the sudden jest. "yeah, uh... is that funny?"
sukuna raises his brows, shaking his head, some glasses clinking. "no, not funny. nothin's funny."
he really knows how to make a person feel small, you'd give him that much.
you avert your gaze, heart crawling up into your cheeks. "okay, well..."
"what about you?" he interjects, sparking up another tiny bit of annoyance in you again. not that you knew what you were gonna say anyways. it most likely would've been embarrassing anyway, making you shrink even more, wanting yuji to come out already—
"what about me?" you wonder, your voice meeker than before. curious and cautious, tip-toeing around his words. is there something you're hiding?
"are you the sticking-around or screwing-around type?"
"oh, right," you laugh, making sense of his question. it's big one, though. kind of sprung on you. still, you manage to respond, just telling him what you know while glowing with intoxication, "well, we've only been going out a couple months."
you're more focused on the way he's watching you than you are on actually answering. his eyes are sharp and torrid in comparison to his little brother's, and the way he gazes down rather than looks at you has something in you stirring, writihing hotly beneath your skin.
it's exciting. why is it exciting? there's a giddiness that gyres in the pit of your gut like a ballerina, pirouettes and grands jetés, heat cooking and simmering through your veins. it's terrible. it's weird.
"well, you can't blame me for being protective." sukuna shrugs. "he seems to really like you."
while what he's saying rings true, there's a chord slightly off-key, something askew that you can't place. is he closer than before?
you ignore it, trying on a smile. "well, feeling's mutual."
you take another sip from the bottle, the cool rim settling on your lips, sparks igniting on your tongue, the same routine replaying. you don't even think before adding gleefully, "and he's like, a jazillion times more sane than my last boyfriend, so i'm happy."
"are you?" sukuna asks, serious.
it was like flipping a switch. he was laughing, now he's earnest, and you were just entirely confused, his meaning lost on you, like you're the last in line in a game of chinese whispers. he caught you off guard with that one. and he knows it, too, carmine eyes feasting on your discomfort.
your smile falters slightly before you nod. "yeah."
"okay." he just says.
now you were really starting to get pissed off with him. whatever he's doing, it's stupid. he might as well have you cornered, except you've done nothing wrong, and yet he's prancing around you with a tone of prolific doubt. as if he knows something about you that you yourself don't.
"what?" you demand, equally serious now, smile wiped clean off. the air turns thick.
sukuna shrugs his shoulders again and you swear you have to fight off a sneer. "nothing."
is he casting doubt on your love for yuji? is that what this is? is he trying to tell you you're not good enough for him? that even though you trudged half a mile in those huge stupid heels just because he said they looked hot on you—carrying his dead weight, might i add, as he was screeching a song you'd never heard in your ear—that all of that was just for laughs, and there were no real feelings behind those actions? is that seriously what he's getting at?
sukuna wants to laugh so bad. your face is all screwed up, cheeks puffed out and burning a deep red. oh, how it fuels him. your stubbornness, that endearing naivety that clings to you like all your modest perfumes, the one that lingers in yuji's room, occasionally in his clothes, infecting every dark corner of his mind—and now you know how it feels to be tortured by him.
"you want some water?" the man asks casually. your mind is on fire, your thoughts more blaring than you would probably think. it's written all over you.
his question makes your shoulders drop, feeling stupid all over again. what are you getting so worked up for? you're secure in your feelings for yuji. as his brother, sukuna has every right to feel concern for him. there really is no need for you to be acting like this.
he's playing you like a damn flute.
"yes, please." you answer a lot more softly, pulling your hair around to one side. you'd been bratty without cause, assumptive, again. you really need to stop mischaracterizing him. after all, he's no monster. "i think all the drinks are finally getting to my head a little."
he starts filling up a glass, grinning at you over his shoulder, mischief playing in his slanted-eyes. "oh, don't tell me you were expecting anything bottled. tap's the best y're gonna get from us. hope you can handle it."
a smile works onto your lips as you finally start to loosen up again, legs swinging gently off the side of the counter. playing along, you wince. "oh yeah, well, i usually only drink expensive, you know, mineral-rich—"
"yeah."
he's suddenly between your legs, his mouth devouring your own, swallowing the terrified noise that begs to escape. for a moment, you're frozen in shock, eyes widening as you palms meet his chest in a forceful attempt at creating space.
sukuna juts back, forced away from you. his eyes crack open but are still like slits, dark, crawling with lust you hadn't previously noticed—no, acknowledged, because the choice has always been there.
he relishes in the terror that brims in your eyes at his visceral kiss. it feels natural, but not in the tender, motherly sense. like predator devouring prey. the natural order of life.
his hands are hot, gripping onto your thighs, digging into the tights he could easily rip to shreds, giving him full access to your warm cunt, to ruin you.
and yet he doesn't.
he waits for your eyes to droop, for you to lunge at him, accepting this twisted spiral of events, indulging his darkness. teeth clicking, tongues meeting messily in a sloppy kiss, drool gathering between you both as you crash together all at once, a train wreck of carnality. sukuna's hands are all over you, groping, slashing at the crotch of your tights. you gasp into his mouth as cold air meets the sobbing wetness of your cunt, followed by a slap to it.
"f-fuck! hey, who said you could—hmff!" you yelp as his hand clamps over your mouth suddenly, his scarlet eyes narrowing.
"brat, watch ya fuckin' mouth." sukuna warns as you grapple with him. his tattoos look especially menacing then, chiseling his features. "he's drunk. not deaf."
you nod, trying to tell him you understand. he releases your lips in an instant only to seize them again in his so forcefully.
yuji would never—could never take you like this, and you fucking know it. you know it with every gnaw, every squash of your tits that leaves you whining like a bitch in heat, every bite against your neck where you can feel the outline of his brother's teeth and a short gush of crimson.
rationality is lost on you as you mindlessly rut against him, your hands running up and down his back until you start tugging on his pants, eager to rid him of them.
meanwhile, sukuna's making a meal out of you—you make up half of his size, giving him complete control to do as ever he pleases.
every whine is met with a grunt. his cock must have been freed at some point as you feel his greedy hands lift you against him, your chests meeting, the sharp cold of the counter leaving your ass and feeling his palms spread you apart instead.
nothing could prepare you for the suddenness of which he fills you—you scream, half openly, half having shoved your face into his shoulder—aware his brother, your lover, is passed out over the toilet in the other room.
"shh, shh—fuckin' shit!" sukuna groans, features curling in erotic bliss.
he gluts you in ways yuji never has, the ways he'll never dare—with such cruel, carnal demand, to the brim, unkind, violent, and so, so fucking good.
as he breaches your womb, you claw his back raw through his shirt. a sob rips through you. sukuna does his best to keep you quiet. "shh... fuck. yer so fuckin' tight, girl. relax."
"t-tryin'... 'm so full..." you whine, eyes misting over with tears. it feels too good, you think...
"i know—" sukuna chokes, barely lifting you up on his cock, feeling your walls spasm around him. "fuck, what ya cryin' for?"
he feels too good.
"d-don't move yet, i'll cum," you gasp, and he hasn't even tried—sukuna's expression blanches.
"already?" he bursts out laughing in his brutish way, the side that yuji lacked entirely as the nicest person you've ever known; fuck. the humiliation makes your cunt squeeze again.
he lifts you up, your knees draped over his thick arms, foreheads meeting. your breaths intertwine, hot and treacherous, caressing each other's faces.
"ya know, i've fuckin' heard you, all those times."
"wh-what?" you stammer cluelessly, only half there, clinging to sukuna as he dangles you on his cock, your eyes crossing when he starts to bounce you on him.
"said i fuckin' heard you, you 'n yuji—'n shit, ya never got this loud, huh?" he smirks wickedly, feeling your body collapse hopelessly against him. he fucks you up and down on him, swallowing up your pathetic moans and whines like they were the last noise he'd ever hear. "been wanting to take ya like this, stretch yer dumb little cunt on me, fuckk—ya got no fuckin' idea, princess."
rocking up and down, you wail, head bobbing. sukuna can just see your little maw dangling open—it takes everything in him not to jam his fucking fingers in your throat until you drool and splutter around him.
"y—you wanted—this?" you struggle, feeling too good to make sense of anything, to think straight, to do anything other than take every rough kiss to your cervix, feeling your insides bruise and swell with lucid excitements.
"lemme guess, the brat cums too soon—never quite gets ya there, hm?" sukuna guesses correctly, making you whine and nod and babble.
"h-how did y—ah, fuck—!" he snapped his hips, picking up the speed as you wept on him. you'd never been fucked like this in your life, and your world was getting flipped on its head. when did your dress come down? you weren't sure—but now your tits were bouncing and sukuna wasn't gonna pass up the opportunity to tear into them.
"cuz, 's just obvious," sukuna rasps, teeth clamping down on your raised nipple, "can tell this sloppy pussy ain't gettin' treated right. not when she's—shit—creamin' all over me jus' from stickin' it in."
"'k—kuna, don't—ahh! fuck!"
"that's it girl, shit, c'mon," sukuna keeps picking you back up only to drop all your weight on his fat cock, his balls slapping against your ass, the slick you're gushing causing them to stick together.
your head is empty, devoid of anything except the chaos, the suddenness of it all, the shock, he's fucking you. your boyfriend's older brother is fucking you, and you've never felt so goddamn good.
there's this sudden wave. a wetness. an explosive feeling that crashes over you in one swift, predatory pounce. like when a deer gets suddenly ripped apart. your head straight up drops on sukuna's shoulder, and you're sobbing loudly, babbling words that can't be defined.
then all of a sudden, sukuna outright cackles; the sound bleeds into your ringing ears, head picking up off of his shoulder.
"no fuckin' way!" he roars with laughter. you wanna shush him, but you can't move—your nerve ends are all bursting to life, like fruitful grapes popping between two fingers. it's happening again, whatever that feeling is, whelming you; this time you his fingers rub back and forth harshly across your clit, but wait—
"dumb lil pussy's squirtin' already, hahh, shit—fuckin' christ, girl—" he's enamored, watching you cum in adorable little spurts, soaking his clothes, your tights, and the kitchen floor, covering everything in your stupid juices.
"you wanted this, goddamn—look at you."
your eyes are rolled back as he kisses you again, fingers tearing into your scalp, the lewd sound of your lips smacking together filling the air.
never in your fucking life. you'd never came like that, so violently, so carelessly, not without really, really trying. all sukuna had to do was pump you up and down on his cock, say a few words and you were spraying like a tap. how fucking pathetic.
and then he does it again. drags another one out of you, laughing.
you barely catch his next words.
"'m gonna fuckin' cum in ya."
"n—no—" you stumble out, barely coming to at the words, but their enough to fill you with at least some urgency. your ass is bruised at the back from being repeatedly slammed against the counter, the wind knocked out of you entirely. "d-don't, wait, you can't—"
"why the fuck not, hah?" sukuna rumbles. "don't tell me it's cuz'a—"
"—yuji," you sob.
it hits you. it hits you then, hard, at the worst time. a gut-punch, one that makes you heave. in less than half a second, a guilt strong enough to set your skin alight cultivates and wrecks each single sense. his cologne invades your nostrils, an imaginary sensation, forced to breathe its natural, tender nature as opposed to sukuna's harsh and crude and brooding one, the one you're drowning in. the one sticking to your skin.
your hand—finally letting go of sukuna's shoulder, where you were keeping yourself stable—slaps over your mouth, tears springing into your eyes.
"f—fuck, fuck, fuck!" sukuna chants, eyes scrunching as he gets lost in the pleasure. he's pounding you, knocking your eyes back still, not slowing his pace for anything. your leg flails once, but how can you fight when he's holding you up like this?
"'s—'kuna," you choke out brokenly, slapping his chest with whatever strength you can muster. your lip quivers, heart aching in your chest as you plead tearfully, "don't."
he'd never been considerate. he'd never 'made love'. not even now. he fucked. he lied, he slipped off condoms, he 'forgot' to pull out, all so many times before. it was clockwork to him. he could've easily done it again. lied. been selfish. blurred the lines. cheated consent.
put a baby in his little brother's whore girlfriend.
and yet sukuna weirdly found himself pulling out of you last second, one hand holding you up while the other jerked his cock until thick ropes of cum splattered up your dress with a strained grunt. his orgasm spoils at it hits, a rough ecstasy that's tattered along the edges and ultimately, ultimately unsatisfying. it barely scratches the surface. the heat of it hasn't even started leaving his body before he wants more, regrets not filling you up, every cell inside him clawing for it, starved and fucking addicted.
sukuna almost, almost crushes you against the island, dropping you on the counter again where your drenched cunt feels like it's been electrocuted when met with the cold so suddenly. you gasp, arching into him, searching for any kind of warmth.
but he rips away from you, turning his back. his touch is gone as soon as it came. any desire flatlines, ringing loudly, blaring in your sensitive ears. alarm bells.
what is this?
both your chests are heaving. there's no afterglow. it's messy, dirty, frantic. cheap. depraved.
and it seems like you aren't the only one.
"s-sukuna, i—"
CLICK.
lips snapping shut, you sit right up, head whipping around in the most deafeningly guilty sense ever. heart in your throat, your expression echoes one of pure horror, one you expect will reflect your boyfriend's when he realizes what's going on here.
yuji stumbles out of the bathroom, his mop of pink hair tousled and eyelids low. he hangs by the doorframe for several seconds, his head dropped, not even looking up. it takes only a few steps. they're slow, clumsy, lead him to the bedroom door. he doesn't notice. he doesn't notice.
his older brother and his girlfriend are feet away, covered in squirt and sperm and other dirty secrets. shame. guilt. some more than others.
and he just blunders into the bedroom, a loud 'thump', telling you that he made it to bed.
all you do is stare. your jaw stays slack.
you hear a zipper and, frazzled, quickly flit your head at sukuna. he's fixing his clothes, not paying you any mind.
you stare at his back, despairing.
"wh—you're just gonna...?" you stammer incredulously, trying to do the same but there's no fixing the gaping hole in your tights that reaches down to your mid thighs.
away from his gaze, him cum settles against the fabric of your torn up dress, pooling slowly in its place.
his cock, hardly soft, twitches again, urging his need. he ends up frozen for a moment, simply staring, before he numbly moves forward.
he leaves, leaving you sat on the counter as he storms out into the night, slamming the front door behind him.
you're alone there, stunned, cum up your dress that is almost but not quite your boyfriend's, the floor below you soaked, and a heartbeat in every part of your body.
trembling, you push yourself off of the counter.
vaguely aware of the layout of the house, you scramble to find some wipes and clean up the mess on the floor. after that, it takes at least 10 minutes to get the semen out of your dress, but even then, you feel filthy.
you sniffle over the sink, scrubbing soapy suds into your tainted skin. wanting to throw up.
what the fuck had you done?
you'd cheated. that's it. you cheated on the sweetest angel, your angel, yuji. the one entirely too gentle and trusting for this world. you betrayed him. a sob rips through you, shattering your core.
stupid, stupid, stupid.
as you sneak back into bed, fingers still shaking as they turn the handle to yuji's room, you don't even have the energy to change your clothes. you simply crawl into bed, too crushed to face him, not garnering the strength, knowing what you'd done. a tear slips down your cheek.
because you can't even regret it.
and before you know it, yuji's draping himself over you, his arms, pulling you against the haven of his chest, sighing against your neck.
"you made it..." he mumbles.
oh, how you want to sob when he says such a thing. "yeah," you nod, trying to suppress the break in your voice, "yeah, i'm here."
yuji grunts happily, snuggling you closer. "mmh, good."
you don't think you will ever forgive yourself.
"i love you." yuji says, blind to the truth.
but you swear it's not one-sided. "i love you," you admit, beginning to cry softly in his arms, wondering if it will be the last time you ever get the liberty of doing so again.
#୭ ˚.⁺⊹ 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓮𝓿𝓪𝓻𝓭 .ᐟ#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna smut#jjk sukuna#sukuna ryomen smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#older brother sukuna#sukuna au#jjk au#yuji itadori#jjk itadori#itadori yuji#cckaisen too obscene!
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Crown's Favorite Kinks 😈
18+ | MDNI! | EN-Released Villains x Reader
Crown's favorite kinks!
CW: Mature content, MDNI!, Most of these align with the villains' powers, but some kinks are not for everyone!!! Some kinks rely on (consensual!) power imbalances/violence, so proceed with caution! These are villains~~~! Also these are just my opinions so may not be the kinks you'd pick! But enjoy!! 😙
William Rex - Corruption Kink
Lowkey all of the members of Crown could potentially be into this lol. But Will in particular loves to see his little robin lose her innocence more and more! It’s such a turn-on to him! He's got big lemme-teach-you vibes. He gets off on being your 'first' anything. Literally or as a scene, it doesn't matter: he wants to deflower you. He'd get especially turned on by a bratty bimbo-ish attitude. And you know you're gonna cling to this whole innocent act even after he knows what a dirty girl you are because he gets so turned on! I bet that this man would get excited if you dressed up in a coquette/Lolita aesthetic for him. He'd be like "Does this little robin understand she's about to get eaten up?" Ugh! William!!
Harrison Gray - Overstimulation/Edging
Tease, tease, tease. Harry is a bona fide TEASE. He’s all sweet and sensual and then WHAM he leaves you in the dust, only to loom over you, grinning like a fox, saying something like “You didn’t seem like you were enjoying it that much so I stopped.” LIES! You know he’s lying! But he’s gonna make you beg and be realllyyyy honest for him. And he’ll know if you’re lying! He won’t let you cum until he deems that your answer is honest enough!
Liam Evans – Exhibitionism
Performer, hello! Loves to show off his beautiful girlfriend, hellooo! He’s definitely fucking you on stage at least once. Probably Not while the theater is full, but the idea that someone could walk in on you guys at any moment is very exciting to him. He also likes PDA because it sends the clear message that you are his! So this is kind of an extreme extension of that. He secretly wouldn’t mind if some of the other Crown members peeped you two going at it—all the more reason for them to mind their manners around you!
Elbert Grecia - Blindfolding and/or Temperature Play
Sensory deprivation would be a surefire way to get Elbie worked UP! He’s all about more, more, more! He’s insatiable! Forcing him to confront having LESS!? It’d drive him insane. And I feel like temperature play would be exciting for him because you two can be as slow and gradual as necessary. Making each level of heat or coldness against your skin even more delicious by drawing it out.
Alfons Sylvatica - Voyeurism/Peeping
Oh, you mean the guy who can literally make people see anything he wants them to see likes to be naughty and watch?? Shocking. Alfons would orchestrate the most exciting peeping experience for the both of you, maybe even building in an “accidentally getting caught” moment that he’d have to “atone” for... Or I could see him drilling a hole in your bathroom wall for him to access anytime he wants! lol
Roger Barel - Sir/Daddy Kink/virginity fetish
Haha, Roger has such cocky guy energy, he’d love the ego-stroking of you calling him ‘sir.’ He’d like ‘doctor’ too but he’s got hangups about not being a real doctor anymore, so he might get distracted, unless you guys were clearly role-playing. But hit him with a ‘daddy’...? He’ll go feral. Also, he wouldn’t necessarily admit it but he is turned on by the idea of deflowering someone, so he’d be into that (even as a role-play) as well.
Victor - Dressing you/slight DDlg
I could see Victor getting very excited/enthusiastic about picking out something for you to wear on a day-to-day basis. He wouldn’t be controlling about it—if you wanted to wear something else, you of course could and he wouldn’t think twice about it. But, there’s also times when you two are explicitly playing where he would be more... insistent that you wear what he wants you to (perhaps even a collar...). And as for the DDlg stuff, I could see him being into being paternal in a more superficial way than a sexual way. He’s older than you so he naturally views you as young and innocent and in need of guidance/protection.
Jude Jazza - Impact Play/sadism or consensual blackmail
Mean dom Jude! Hard dom Jude! He is a sadist, okay! I could see him owning whips/paddles and stuff but I could also see him just using his hands to toss you around. He won’t hesitate to land a hard slap across your face or give you a thorough spanking if you misbehave. He’d also be very excited if you offered some sensitive information (or nudes!) to him that he could playfully use against you because he is twisted like that. His aftercare would be surprisingly sweet and loving tho, confusing the hell out of you! 🫠
Ellis Twilight – Bondage
Well, of course haha. But oof. Lord. Help. Ellis is so attractive, it’s crazy. He’d love to tie you up (it is his power after all), but he would also love it if you tied him up!! I get STRONG switch/vers vibes from Ellis, so he would really be happy either way. You would look so pretty and helpless all tied up, and he would have such a fun time teasing you like that. And he would really enjoy you playing with him while he can’t move—he’s so used to being able to move and overpower you however he wants, it would be extra exciting for him to be restrained for once.
#cybird ikemen#ikemen series#ikemen villains#ikemen games#cybird otome#ikemen villians elbert#ikemen villains jude#ikemen villians alfons#ikemen villians jude#ikemen villians liam#ikemen villains victor#ikemen villains alfons#ikemen villains ellis#ikemen villains liam#ikevil#roger barel#ikevil victor#ikevil alfons#william rex#ikevillains#ikevil roger#ikemen villains roger#alfons sylvatica#jude jazza#ellis twilight#liam evans#ikemen villains elbert#elbert greetia#ikemen villains fanfiction#ikemen villains william
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These r my first brainstorm pages for the ot5 civillian miraculous designs! Some of their styles I imagine would shift throughout the hypothetical series, esp Adrien and Marinette.
Adrien dresses like a little businessman, preppy in the most direct sense of the word, was taught to dress well to leave a good impression. Gabriel believes that every man should just wear a suit all the time, so Adrien's sweaters and khakis are a compromise. He basically only wears neutrals.
Marinette dresses in mainly pink, but dabbles in other colors as well. I think she would always have some kind of comfortable fabric on, and customizes her clothing with embroidery and things like that. I think she also just likes all the rainbow colors too.
Chloe is a true y2k girlie, Megan Fox's character's outfits from confessions of a teenage drama queen is her vibe. Blue, yellow, brown/beige, b&w, are her main vibe.
Ngl I have no idea what to do with Nino he just dresses like a guy. I think he's the most comfortable in looser clothing. I try to incorporate green into his outfits to tie into the turtle miraculous and him being friends with Adrien. His in-show design literally has like every color in it probably to tie all the characters into each other but it kills me to draw that lol. I'm much better with designing women's clothes...
Alya has tumblr girl style. She loves a black graphic tee and takes black and white pictures of her converse. She basically dresses like the girls I thought were so cool in middle school. Like c'mon she has a blog and Balayage hair, what other style would she be? (Also random fact but when I heard of 'twee' style I thought it just meant all Tumblr girl style not just the peter pan collar stuff lol) I think people call it Tumblr grunge as well? idk
I have a different updated lineup of the civilian classmates and I might make individual posts describing their vibe, background, inspiration, and style because fashion is very important w my characters lol. xx
#miraculous#miraculous au#miraculous fanart#miraculous fandom#miraculous ladybug#miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir#ml ladybug#adrien agreste#miraculous ladybug fanart#fanart#ml fanart#ml fandom#miraculous lb#marinette dupain cheng#chloe bourgeois#nino lahiffe#alya cesaire
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Wrote some quick Zoya smut to celebrate her birthday!! Like always, Zoya has a cock in this, because my wife is packing. This is, like, kinda Sinya coded because I imagined her fucking me- sorry for that hehe.
CW: NSFW, Smut under the cut.
You weren't sure how much time had passed since you surprised Zoya by wearing a new set of lingerie for her. The woman was on you in seconds, pining you down on the bed with her mouth exploring every inch of you. She could never resist you when you went out of your comfort zone to wear something so revealing for her on her birthday.
"So fucking beautiful!" Zoya groaned as she gave a sharp thrust that buried her cock into you. It made you gasp out a moan, your head falling back against the pillows at the roughness of her movements. It was so primal that it had you gushing around her hard length.
Zoya chuckled as she felt you cum for the umpteenth time that night, your wetness coating her hard cock, making it wet enough that it easily slid in and out of you. God she was fucking addicted to you. The sounds you made and the pleasure on your face were a drug to her that she could never get off of, not she wanted to anyways.
"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum again." Zoya cursed, her lips against your ear as she nibbled on your earlobe, feeling her orgasm rapidly building up more and more. She was going to cum again, shoot yet another one of her loads into your already filled pussy. With the number of times she's released into you, you think you might just get pregnant, whether on the pill or not.
"I-Inside me! Z-Zoya-!!" You squealed, your nails digging into her back for the 100th time, drawing more blood that stained her already scratched up back. At this point, she didn't even feel the sting of it.
"Of course I'm gonna cum inside." Zoya stated with a breathless laugh, as if her cumming anywhere else was going to happen (it definitely wasn't).
It took a few more deep, rough thrusts until she buried herself inside you, feeling your pussy clamping down around her once again. With a deep, primal growl, she shot ropes of her cum into you, filling you up even more. It triggered you to cum again as well, quickly forming more of a white ring around her base as your guys cum desperately wanted to spill out of you.
This orgasm left Zoya the most exhausted, and she rolled onto her side while holding you close. She relaxed, one hand on your lower back while the other was placed on your thigh where she drew random patterns with her thumb. You nuzzled your face into her chest, sighing in content at being in your lovers arms.
"I'm exhausted." Zoya mumbled while pressing her face into the top of your head, nuzzling her nose against your head.
You laughed softly at her words, kissing her chest. "Not surprising. You have been fucking me straight these last few hours."
"Can't help it when you dressed up so prettily for me." *She murmured back, a smile tugging at her own lips. Really, you couldn't blame her. After all, you expected nothing less from Zoya.
A silence settled around you both for a few minutes, with the both of you starting to fall asleep. You almost were when you heard Zoya murmur a soft, "thank you" to you before dozing off. It made you smile and tilted your head slightly to peck her on the lips.
"Happy birthday, Zoya."
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Shangri-la (Oh My Girl Yooa)
Thank you for the commission! I hope it's to your liking.
—————
“What the?”
What welcomes you inside the bedroom takes you by complete surprise. It’s the kind that leaves you with more questions than answers. She had been very vague about the whole ordeal, skittering around the details. she was completely straightforward about one thing: to get fucked. That’s the main selling point.
Her inviting tone, her sultry expression, her lust—it’s still freshly imprinted on your mind from an hour ago. You’ve heard those words—their many variations—a handful of times, but hers is by far the most enticing and the sweetest sounding:
“Wanna have sex with me tonight?”
—————
Admittedly, it was never on your bucket list to attend a concert, let alone a group who sings primarily in foreign. It was supposed to be just a kind gesture for a roommate.
He’s your resident nerdy K-pop fan, the kind that gets bullied in real life and on the internet. He’s the full package; posters on the bedroom wall, a book full of photocards, and a shelf of albums and lightsticks which he considers as his sacred temple. You were never meant to go beyond a toe’s dip into this unhealthy obsession he’s engrossed himself in; completing his homework was enough exposure.
If there was one takeaway from your observations, it was quite obvious: the girls are really hot. And that’s all that you needed to convince yourself to go.
Besides, you were his roommate—and his only friend. Out of the kindness of your heart, you have an obligation to be there for him, at least until you graduate.
For the most part, the show was entertaining. Again, the girls were pretty attractive, and they were dressed in outfits that flaunted their bodies exceptionally well. Your friend’s relentless screaming accustomed you to the crowd’s energy, which was no joke. Even in a small, intimate venue, there were several moments where you felt that the place might collapse off the audience’s deafening shouts alone. At least you came prepared with noise canceling earplugs.
It’s not a huge surprise when he suddenly vanishes after the show. He’s been in and out of sight the whole time; getting freebies, merch shopping, taking numerous bathroom breaks, to the point where he just straight up forgets he left his phone with you before running off again.
To make things worse, it’s the dying moments of the night, when everyone in the VIP section, the two of you included, gets to greet the members for only a brief passing moment. He’d been acting like his entire life has been building to this moment, completely neglecting the fact you were his ride home.
Of course you’re not entirely sure about who’s who in this group. Six equally pretty girls, all wearing the exact same shirt and short skirt combination, down to the colors, with equally warm smiles. You didn’t have enough time to familiarize yourself with each of their names; the internet in the area has been failing you for hours. The staff was strict with phones the closer you approached them. It didn’t help that everyone screamed through their introductions, too.
Unsurprisingly, nothing substantial came of your interaction. A series of repetitive, awkward bows and near-silent whispers of “hello.” You’ve been putting off Duolingo for months, and it showed. It should have been a forgettable affair, considering the hundreds of people they’re greeting just from tonight’s queue alone. It’s not like you particularly stand out from the rest of the crowd; a casual shirt and jeans combo that’s indistinguishable from the dozens in attendance, and you don’t have anything on you that screams ‘overly dedicated fan.’
So when you’re pulled aside by the same staff closely watching the queue during the meet and greet, asked to head backstage as part of some secret lucky draw, you’re not surprised. There’s an age-old superstition that states that you’re more likely to meet celebrities the less you’re familiar with them. It rings true, and you have first hand proof.
You’re led to this singular door in what’s basically an unused narrow hallway. The kind that criminals use to trap their victims. Definitely safe. The staff member instructs you to head in before leaving you there alone. Nothing more, nothing less.
Instead of your friend, you find one of the members you just met, waiting on the other side. You have so many questions, but she she gives you another to entertain:
“You wanna have sex with me tonight?”
Much to her amusement ,you’re taken aback. At first, you’d think she was pulling some kind of prank. By the way she smiles and laughs, it’s a reaction all too familiar to her, like this is some kind of cliche. It’s not a surprise to hear those words from any girl, knowing your experiences at college parties and bars, but from a traveling singer? Simply put, it’s quite ridiculous.
“You’re joking right?” you say, hand close to the door you just entered, ready to make a beeline for it. You glance around the enclosed, compact space, searching for any possible hidden cameras recording the scene.
She shakes her head, taking a step forward. “Not at all. You should consider yourself lucky.”
“Do you do this all the time?” you ask, her reply not easing you in the slightest. Your hand inches a little closer to the door. It’s not like she’s going to hurt you; if anything, her thin figure’s probably what should worry her if you dare to even breathe heavily on her, let alone touch.
“Yeah. Every stop. You look really cute,” she says, reaching her hand out to you. “And you look like you can give me a good time tonight.”
There’s something flattering about her words, coming from an idol singer, complimenting you that hits a chord harder than other girls. Her sincere tone, doll-like eyes twinkling, and expressive lips certainly help. It’s alluring—devastating—to a casual like you; how much more to someone who worships her.
Then, here comes the killing blow:
“So, what’s it going to be?” She kisses you on the chin, wrapping her arms around your neck. It’s not suffocating, not in the slightest, but you might as well be entangled by them. Her eyes, sharp and fiery, are daring you to say otherwise to her seemingly coarse question.
Leaning your head against her shoulder, her scent and soft skin prove to be intoxicating. You can’t get enough. That hand you’ve been pressing on the door is no longer there; it’s coiled around her back, taking inventory of her slim waist and arched back, then teasing at the fabric of her shirt. Even if she wasn’t the girl you just watched perform on stage, she’s too gorgeous to turn down. And it isn’t like you’ll find your friend, anyway. Perhaps this is your way of getting back at him for being insufferable all throughout.
“Here?” you ask, whispering in her ear, playing with fire.
She holds you by the cheek, tilting an eyebrow. Shaking her head, she drags her tongue on the ridge of your ear. “Somewhere nicer.”
—————
It’s only you and her in the backseat of one of their vans, windows tinted and the front closed off that it’s safe to assume that the driver can’t hear you—perfectly convenient. He probably doesn’t know you’re even there.
It’s inside the car that you finally become familiar with each other. YooA, or as she’d prefer you to call her, Shiah, and you have this light bulb moment where you put it all together. You bring up this collection of photocards in your friend’s book holder; you recognize her face on some of the cards. She laughs. Heartily. Her face lights up, honored at the thought, and it’s a sincere look. Other artists would simply wave it off and move on, but she appears intrigued by the effort to obsess over her.
She calls it a bias, and you call it an obsession. In the other’s eyes, you’re both strange. To you, it’s unhealthy and strange; to her, it’s part of the appeal, part of the culture.
So it’s all the more surprising when you admit you’re simply there because of him, that you would have looked the other way otherwise. And in response, she has this warm, wholesome smile; she doesn’t appear offended by your candidness. You don’t know a thing about them, other than they’re delicious eye candy.
“So this is your first foray into K-pop? I hope it was a good one,” she says, flashing you a cute pout. “That means a lot for all of us.”
Yeah, you nod, your eyes wandering down her slim body, draped in darkness, only brought to the light by passing street lamps. You notice how slender and lanky she is. It doesn’t change the appeal; she’s unreal. “I should go more often if that’s the case.”
Shiah chuckles. “You didn’t pay, then. I bet you’re getting more than what he bargained for.”
To which you nod, barely holding in a particularly uncharacteristic grin. She catches it. An opportunity to twist the knife.
It’s a casual affair when you reach the hotel. There’s a surprising lack of fanfare upon your arrival. You assume idols have as much popularity as any other celebrity, but you’re both left alone—and without security, walking past the front desk without a care or a question. Tension gradually builds as you climb floor after floor, until you step out that elevator and into her room, away from prying eyes.
What welcomes you inside Shiah’s bedroom catches you off-guard.
“What the?”
The person sitting at the center of the bed turns to your direction, shouts out your name. You can recognize that voice anywhere.
“Hey! There you are!”
You immediately turn to Shiah, who replies gleefully, “Of course I knew. Your friend told me everything. He wanted me to invite you along.”
Forget that your friend orchestrated the whole ordeal. It’s the fact that he wants you to join him in a threesome. You expected him to be greedy with the rare opportunity to have a beautiful idol all to himself, but instead, he’s somehow still involving you in the action. There’s a lot to take in, and you don’t exactly know where to start.
“Is this even allowed?” you ask, unsure of your place in this room. You’re slowly soaking up the scenery; none of it makes any sense. Scattered on the bedroom floor is Your friend’s shirt and his bag, freebies and personal belongings alike,, while Shiah casually saunters around the mattress, gradually removing pieces of jewelry from herself and placing them on the nightstand.
“Of course, dude!” says your friend. His energy hasn’t waned in the slightest. You’re amazed his voice hasn’t changed at all, let alone his ability to speak. He had been screaming beside you for the entirety of the show, you’d probably go deaf because of him if not for your earplugs. “I wouldn’t have asked her if she wasn’t allowed to, or if she didn’t feel it.”
“He’s right,” adds Shiah, unbuttoning her jeans. Looking at her again, she grabs your attention with the casual stripping of her pants, pooled around her ankles, leaving only pale colored panties that leave nothing to the imagination. “Plus, I haven’t tried having a threesome before, and tonight seemed like a good idea to try that.”
Surely, you’ve heard weird things before, but none were as out of pocket as this.
“C’mere dude,” says your friend, gesturing to you to take the spot beside him on the bed. “We’re going to fuck an idol tonight. And not just any idol, my freaking bias!”
Your eyes continue to linger on her. Shiah, now undoing her top, candidly tossing them aside. The one time you regret not having your phone on hand to capture without obstruction. Her tits are bite-sized handfuls, nipples firm and on full display, and her figure is so paper thin, you’ll break her when you hold her by her ridiculous proportions. The only thing missing is some fragile warning label plastered on her skin as a reminder to handle her with care.
This is the most awkward you’ve been with your friend since you first met, when he first moved into your dorm. Seated on the mattress, you’re anxious of what’s about to happen. You worry she won’t be able to handle you two; he worries that he won’t be able to ruin her to the fullest extent.
She meets you at the center in nothing but panties. She scans you both from head to toe, and notices your contrasting expressions. Facing you, she says, “Hey. I wouldn’t do this if I wasn’t confident about the idea. If you don’t make me unable to walk after tonight, I’m gonna be quite disappointed. So chin up.”
Reassuring of a tone it may sound, it doesn’t ease your worry even a little. It doesn’t discourage her either; it’s part of the challenge.
She drops to her knees, and that’s when you come around on the idea. Her fingers make work of your pants; yours first, then your friend’s. With eagerness written on her face, your hard cocks hang between her tiny face. Pausing, undecided, she takes a moment to think which one to satisfy. The way she eyes both yours, then your friend’s—you can tell how hungry she is: how she wants them shoved inside her mouth, down her throat, taking all that delicious load. If she could fit both at once, she certainly would.
“Which one should I take first, boys?” she asks, innocuous sounding, her doll-like eyes pleading up with a playful pout. Knowing full well she already has this whole thing already planned out. You and your friend swallow hard, telepathically aligned, thinking of the same idea, based on the rather silent response.
Shiah has your eyes fluttering, hands already gripped to the edge of the bed, lips letting out a string of delightful moans. It sounds like relief, agony, and ecstasy all at once. She’s leaving soft kisses on your tip, her tongue running circling around your length, and her fingers slowly pumping at your base. All your doubts and hesitations, gone in an instant. The very few glimpses you catch of her, her eyes speak to you, staring, telling you to take it all in.
She feels so good, handles you deftly, as if she’s already acquainted with your cock, even though it’s the first time. Pushing all the sensitive, perfect spots and getting you into a steady rhythm.
“See? I told you it was gonna be—fine—fuck—”
Your friend folds just as quickly as you do, if not faster. His words, instantly reduced to echoed grunts, groans, and curses, his hand palming Shiah’s scalp. She’s focused, taking turns with each cock, kissing and teasing you both with the prospect of shoving it down her needy, thirsty throat. One hand on your dick and the other on his, stroking you at near-synchronized tempo, then vice versa. You wonder exactly why she’s even hesitant and nervous about taking two at once when she’s clearly a natural at satisfying cocks.
She’s well aware that she has only one mouth to fulfill her craving for cock. There’s a look of regret every time she stops sucking one cock in place of the other. It’s almost as if she’s failing, even though the pleasure-ridden expressions on your faces say otherwise. “I hope this is good enough,” she frowns, taking a moment to plant another direct kiss on each cockhead. “I wish I could fit you both in my mouth, but I—”
“Shhh.” Your friend interjects, tugging harshly at Shiah’s dark locks, then rubbing his hand around her forehead. “You’re doing so fucking well, so much better than we hoped—”
Suddenly, he finds himself slowly crumbling. Precum coating around her dainty fingers, while he loses grip on his consciousness, lying flat on the bed. If there’s anything you’ve learned in the very short time you’ve had Shiah on her knees, it’s that she’s particularly gentle. You can feel she’s not going to ruin you instantly and that she’s nowhere close to crushing your cock, unlike some of the girls you’ve known in the past.
This is all new to your friend, after all. It shouldn’t be surprising.
Still, she continues to pleasure you both, taking a moment to slip his erection inside her throat, slurping and swallowing his cock whole. Her eyes instantly slam shut, mumbling a songful hum, finally soaking in the taste after intentionally restraining herself from her lust. Turning to your side, your friend clearly can’t take her; his mouth agape, his chest heaving, breathing heavily, his eyes widely staring at the ceiling in a useless effort to distract himself. In his mind, she’s relentless, overwhelming, cruel.
Her eyes slide in your direction, brows furrowed, apologetic. You shake your head, smile lightly, perfectly understanding of the situation. It’s not that she’s ignoring you; her other hand’s pressing on the base of your cock, down to the underside, pressing on your balls. She’s already left her mark on you even though she’s doing the bare minimum. The layer of precum on her fingers is clear proof. That should be more than enough.
And when you find your friend completely unresponsive, breathing through his mouth, you tilt your head at an angle and make this poor sleeping impression—something he hasn’t had in over 24 hours. It’s the command that causes Shiah to slip his cock from her mouth with a silent pop, his dick throbbing with her spit dripping from the tip. Her focus turns over to you; her eyes meeting yours, her hands pressing on each knee, and your fingers brushing loose strands of hair aside to see her pretty face, flushed but flawless. It’s now just down to you two.
She gives your head a playful swirl, and you lift your brows in approval, subtly biting at the lip to show her you like it. Her eyes lock in, scanning through each subdued wince, waiting for the go ahead.
It’s the slightest head motion that nearly ends you. You’re uncertain if you even said yes or no.
Shiah looks so much better with your cock in her mouth than anyone else’s. She knows, too. You pause to take the sight in—your length buried deep in her mouth, occasionally poking her throat, her cheeks hollow, her eyes looking wide at you with a fiery glint, begging you to take her, use her, ruin her. You’re perfectly positioned to work her; your hand is palming the back of her head, giving her this assertive stare that appears demeaning, but you can tell she prefers to be seen that way. It would be criminal to have her on her knees and not have your way with her.
And you do just that.
You hold her still, using the little increments of strength to motion her into a bobbing motion. She surrenders herself into your control, moving her head back and forth with the grip of your hand. Like the swing of a pendulum, you watch your base disappear and appear between her lips. You’re nowhere close to burying yourself entirely in her mouth, but she feels so incredible, so intoxicating, she may as well be deepthroating you.
It’s not the firmness of her luscious lips kissing your cock nor her lewd expressions that shake you, but her suction. She hums this wistful note while sucking your cock—a song of satisfaction. In contrast to the steady rhythm you’re attempting to impose, she drags your length along her tongue, forcing you into this playful tug-of-war whenever you draw your cock back, directing where your cum should land. She envisions it: the notion of your hot load collected on her cheeks. Her fingers point where she wants them, using her pleading eyes and brows to entice you.
And you’re not going to deny her request. She’s too charming and expressive to turn down. Even more so when your cock is lodged between her lips.
You utter this particularly incomprehensible mix of a groan and a grumble while your throbbing cock unloads the warm cum she desires. Without wasting a single drop, she takes it all, puffing her cheeks with your seed while carefully pulling your cock out her mouth. Your hand is no longer resting on her head but rather around her shoulder and collarbones. She plays with the load in her mouth, gargling, swishing, before swallowing it all. Afterward, she sticks out her silky tongue, face completely flustered, showing you the aftermath: leftovers of your cum painting her mouth.
“God, Yoo—I mean, Shiah—” you breathe, lightly falling back on the bed as your legs go numb. Your flaccid cock isn’t enough to show how much she’s drained you in one fell swoop. “How are you so—”
“I told you I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t so confident about it,” she remarks, rising to her feet before pushing you down on the sheets, straddling herself on your lap. Her energy remains steadfast. It’s infectious. Winking and pouting, she adds, “Now fuck me till I can’t walk.”
You’re completely sold on the idea, but you can’t do it alone.
Pushing Shiah off you, you shake your friend back into consciousness. You’re holding her by the shoulders, giving her lips a quick kiss. A soft gesture telling her to be a tad patient. Her eyes clue you in; she’s dying to be fucked, to be used, to be ruined. Your friend looks around, feeling hazy, completely unaware of what transpired, even though it’s only been less than 10 minutes.
“What’d I miss?” he asks, still trying to make sense of things. The last thing he remembers is Shiah on her knees. Now he sees you and his bias in each other’s embrace. Surprisingly, he’s not fazed in the slightest. The bed’s tremors—rumblings—are good enough indicators.
You’re unable to completely look him in the eye, and you don’t know what to answer, so she does it for you: “Your friend blew a nice load inside my mouth. We were just about to have round two. Join us.”
To her amusement, the reply has you staring at her utterly gobsmacked. It’s not the fact that she’s telling it straight, with zero sugarcoating, but her candid, conversational delivery and deadpan expression, as if they’re close friends catching up on lost time. He doesn’t seem bothered, nor does he ask any further questions. Knowing him, he’d be disappointed if you didn’t.
Really, what’s there to question when given an opportunity to fuck an idol without any conditions or red tape. He’s not making the most of the moment as you have, and the hurried jump off the bed to take position behind her indicates he’s not going to waste any more time. You’re scared you might get into a confrontation over how you’ll take her.
“Say the word and I’ll move aside,” you tell him, calmly.
“Let me have her tight ass,” is the reply, straightforward. Chalk it up to tension, but there’s a hint of harshness in his voice, as though some bitterness is leaking. He subtly pulls her away from your side, prompting you to let him take full control.
You aren’t surprised at where he ends up taking her. The bed is the comfiest option, but in his mind, the safest and the most cliche. A shower to ease the tension and stress in the muscles—that’s a good one too, on top of having her possibly pressed against the panels and the idea of soaping her tits while fucking her in the wet. This luxurious suite, which feels like walking from the one end of a parking lot to the other on weary legs, has a handful of mirrors to watch her get railed on. None are as captivating and inviting as the biggest one—the large glass windows that overlook the city, lit up by lights from nearby skylines and the illumination from the living room.
He presses her tiny frame against the window, then on air, giving her tiny butt a firm slap. Followed by another. Something about Shiah with her back arched, yelping with each spank, arouses him. Her too. She whines, biting on her lip, hands trying to latch to anything. There’s plenty to claim—from her bite-sized chest, to her slinky waist, to her soiled panties. Something he slips down to her ankles.
In the moment, your friend doesn’t acknowledge you. He’s all up in her hair, licking the shell of ear, a set of clenched digits digging into her warmth. Her eyes fluttering, she whines, pressing a hand around his waist, mumbling, begging, “Fuck me, please, fuck me.”
You can tell she’s apologetic, wants to be punished and manhandled like a naughty girl. Your friend has this glare in his eyes—a look of hunger. His fingers pump away at her core, without care for pace or comfort, just the satisfaction of hearing her cries and the need for her to cum. Bumping her against the window, he’s kissing her, claiming her as his own. Red marks form everywhere on her neck, collarbones, and back. Her entire body. All his.
You let him. You watch. Not out of guilt, not out of arousal. It’s his moment.
He looks over his shoulder and finds you just watching. “C’mere,” he growls between muted groans, tone low. It should be awkward (it is) but all that tension disappeared the moment she got on her knees. Approaching the twosome in such a strange fashion, he continues to finger Shiah, shifting her away from the window, binding her from behind by one hand. He’s suppressing his tongue, teasing his cockhead against the entrance of her pussy, barely able to restrain himself.
When you’re in front of her again, you’re greeted by a hot mess. Her juices are dripping down her thighs, pooling around her feet. His coated fingers line around her warmth, around her tight hole. His lust is on full display, cussing out a storm about how incredibly wet and tight she is while she prepares herself to get fucked into oblivion. It’s not the first time you’ve heard him say these things; he talks a loud talk about how he’d fuck his biases in explicit detail, writes particularly concerning essays about the positions they’d be railed in, how they would cum, and how many times he would make them cum.
At the end of the day, it was none of your business.
And ultimately, he might have been onto something.
You let out this loud unsuppressed moan burying yourself inside her tight cunt. She’s suffocating, overwhelmingly tight—the kind of heat that can make you cum almost immediately. You’re still recovering from your first orgasm, putting you on the backfoot. Still, her walls are too inviting not to get hard again. Meanwhile, your friend, who’s been eager to fuck Shiah’s ass for the longest time, is in no rush. His cock is barely entering her tight hole, slowly easing himself inside her with deep breaths. He’s grabbing a handful of her flesh, openly moaning and grunting taking her.
“F-fuck, Yoo—” he mutters, grabbing at her petite cheeks with an ironclad grip. Pulling her closer to his body so his cock can split her in half. He’s growing greedy—and desperate.
Everything you’re doing to Shiah can be seen in the window’s reflection: you pounding into her tight cunt, your friend’s cock spearing her from behind, her body practically sandwiched between your twosome. The combined weight is more than capable of crushing her slim frame, her skin like tire marks on both your chests. Neither of you move with an understanding of working as a team, and it shows; your collective strokes are unsteady, erratic, chaotic.
This isn’t good for your back—at all. Shiah’s bent forward in part to your friend’s slow, deep thrusts into her delicious ass, rippling with each stroke. She’s clutching to your shoulders for support, screaming from the absolute depths of her lungs getting doubled up. The uncomfortable position is mostly clouded by the overwhelming sensation of your cocks tag teaming on her two sensitive holes. You’re leaning, steadily falling back. That inescapable warmth—that intoxicating heat—keeps you coming back for more, friction be damned.
God, Shiah’s pussy is so fucking perfect.
And that’s what you end up muttering. In an endless choir of ecstasy-charged moans, profanities, and wet sloppy slaps of skin against skin, you throw those words out to the wind. So good, so tight—those doubts you had entering the room, now just thoughts from yesterday. She’s everything you want in a satisfying fuck; your hands intertwined with her waist, rocking her frame with every plunge, savoring each entry into that needy womb.
It’s no surprise then that she cums so soon.
It’s been slowly building to this moment. The signs were there all along; the blink and you’ll miss it patch on her jeans, the phallic object in her purse, the wet puddle forming on her panties, the not so subtle gestures she’s giving fans between performances—she’s been desperate to cum on a cock and her wish can finally be granted.
In dramatic fashion, she’s all over you. Clinging to you like her lifeline, showing you how you’ve ruined her. Body trembling, legs quaking—the ripples send shockwaves through your body, also in the process of falling apart. Throwing out her hips, a new layer of juices coat both cocks, dripping to the floor. You’re there to break her fall, but you have nothing to stop yours.
Passing through deaf ears, her screams revert to soft pleas. “Cum, cum in me—please—fuck—” she whines in bursts, riding out her climax in waves, waiting for you two to join her over the edge. You’re preoccupied with the raging fire in your loins, restraining your urge to release your seed inside her needy cunt prematurely. At this point, you’re almost done, holding onto the last of your resolve not to spurt right then and there. The layer of her slick coating your cock doesn’t do you any favors, either.
Propping her body straight, your thrusts remain relentless. Steadied pace, at your own will, rocking her senseless—that’s how you want to finish inside her. You want to keep her in that position: cupping her tiny chest, wrapping an arm on the neck, resting a hand on your light shoulder. Shiah’s body is the perfect plaything.
All of that is too good to be true.
“Cumming, gonna cum—” you mutter, rather ashamedly, though you’re holding up better than anyone ever expected, especially after already orgasming once. You press her to your friend, almost a flat out shove. The line couldn’t be any thinner. “Shit—”
Your legs are on the cusp of crumbling, but at least they’re generous enough to let you savor this moment. Spilling your pent up need, you fuck that remaining cum into her. It’s fulfilling, euphoric. All the proof is down there, dripping between her legs and on your cock. The sight of her splayed, wrecked hole, oozing with seed, tempting you to stick a thumb around her slick core. She squirms at your sensitive touches, still needy and in want.
Only after the orgasm does your vision clear again. It’s an amusing scene; your friend is still pounding into Shiah’s tight ass at a feverish pace. Last one in, last one out—at least you think, that’s how the saying goes, until he lets out this guttural groan, indicating he’s reached his own climax too. If not for the setting, it’s an accomplishment worth cheering, the kind that’s worth a celebration of a life milestone. Cocks buried to the hilt, the sight of her holes spilling seed never grows old.
At least you both can agree on one thing: staying inside the welcoming warmth that is Shiah’s heat. Neither of you want to leave, even when you regain mobility in your legs.
You’ve got the rest of the night to ruin her, leave her room hobbling or crawling on her feet. Your friend has a bucket list of positions to fuck her in, so it’s the least of your worries. Besides, both of them know you have no intention of leaving. And in the middle of this non-existent conundrum, while your friend is leaving soft kisses all over her back as a victory lap, she takes a moment to glance at you both. Noticing the similarity of smiles on your faces and your supportive nature towards your friend, she’s reminded of something she shares with her members, apart from the fact they’re getting railed at this very moment:
True friendship.
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(A/N: Expect a bit more crowdedness aka more-somes over the next few fics. I also haven't written an Oh My Girl member since Arin in over a year, so that's one off the list! This one took a while, had a whole other story involving roadtrips and hitchhiking, which I ultimately scrapped. Thank you for reading!)
(P.S. If you want to have your own story/idol written, you can ask for a commission :D)
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some 1b girl lineups so i can have all my little personal designs in one place :3 slightly inconsistent bc i drew them separately at first but fuck it we ball
no clothes versions that i made for myself to use as templates (yknow so i can draw clothes on top of them without having to draw them over and over again) and showcase my general appearance headcanons
how i think they like to wear their uniforms (looking at bakugo, UA seems pretty liberal about it so i get to have fun lol). obviously what they wear depends mostly on the weather but these are meant to be like,, their favorite combinations?
i really like the "long sleeve shirt with no blazer" look. kind of a shame no one in bnha seems to wear their uniform like this
the most important part!! the costumes!! putting the notes under the cut bc they ended up kinda long
i like Reiko's canon costume a lot, i just decided to give her fingerless gloves and make her kimono long and tattered for the spooky vibes. i used to also draw it with a reversed (right over left) collar bc that's how they dress dead people and Reiko's meant to have this ghost aesthetic but decided against it this time because maybe it's more culturally inappropriate than i think?? idk its not that big of a visual change so i'd rather play it safe
Setsuna is wearing my own costume design that i explained fully in an older post. i still like it, i just gave her spike bands on her legs instead of the same thing she wears on her forearms bc i decided i dont vibe with the total limb symmetry anymore lol
i spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to think up a redesign for Kendo only to settle for her canon costume with extra bandages/cloth wraps (theyre cool) and ordinary combat boots instead of the ones she wears in canon (i just don't vibe with them). i guess sometimes less is more or whatever
Pony is wearing @doodlegraveyard's awesome redesign :) pastel cowgirl swag
Ibara's design is by m0chicakes, i still think its amazing
Yui's costume also takes a lot from doodlegraveyard's design, i just decided to try blue as her accessory color to distinguish her color palette from my Momo design
Kinoko's canon costume is just *chefs kiss* so the only thing i changed was the color of her shoes. her sleeves are short here bc i thought it could look cute for a summer version of her costume, the winter version keeps the long fluffy sleeves. her spray guns were pissing me off so i decided not to draw them but trust me they're here in spirit
i might post winter edits for some of these later :)
edit: posted in a reblog!!
#bnha#class 1b#reiko yanagi#setsuna tokage#itsuka kendo#pony tsunotori#ibara shiozaki#yui kodai#kinoko komori#bnha redesign#tikto's art#okay smiley face time OVER complaining time is NOW#i do like it enough to post but i am less than happy with how some of this stuff turned out if i gotta be honest#ponys pastel ass linework colors. everyones feet and shoes. kinoko's chicken legs. honestly kinoko in general#im sorry girl i couldnt do you justice but i redrew you like 3 times and still wasn't happy so i had to settle with what i had TwT
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my 2wink femstars hcs btw!!!!!!!! since i finally got around to drawing hinata i thought i should finally sketch it out!!
i want their original hairstyles to basically be a side ponytail on opposite sides, and i wasnt entirely sure on if i should go with the hairclips side or not, as it would feel very packed to have everything be on one side and just. feel incomplete. But i thought Hey. that might actually be optimal. as they will now look incomplete if not standing next to each other
and for their new era yuutas hairstyle is basically just the one he canonically has, but for hinata i decided she gets to have both the ponytails now.... i thought this would be cute bc yay! new hairstyle for hina too! But at the same time it can be viewed as her kinda. being stuck with what made 2wink 2wink initially by herself. Picking up what yuuta put down yanno. yet another instance of clinging to the past and not doing anything really "new"
another thing is i want hinata to be a more femme girlie and yuuta to be a tomboy. i think yuuta would wear beanies and hoodies and baggy jeans while hinata will indulge in the occasional summer dresses if shes feeling bold. But for the most part their fashion sense remains the street-wear style we see their canon counterparts wear, the aforementioned is just what they personally would like to wear when given the freedom
#I LOVE 2WINK ALOT!!!!!!!!#2WINK YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS!!!!!!!!!!#femstars#genderbend#yuuta aoi#yuta aoi#hinata#enstars#ensemble stars#my art
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if you're up for it
logan sargeant and the inked soulmate prompt (also this isnt too related to the suggestion but does prompt include writing in drawing? or just actual drawings?)
maybe logan absentmindedly drawing the circuit he'll be racing on before the race starts, when reader sees they add details to it, recognizing it, and reader is there at the race whether to watch or as a worker and they somehow run into each other after the race and maybe logan notices the drawing on reader (perhaps short sleeves with the drawing done on the arm)
Hey, thanks for your request:) I hope you like it
This is actually my first work
Like I mentioned it will take me always some days to finish them
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Ink soulmates | Logan Sargeant
Logan Sargeant x fem!reader
593 words
Masterlist
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Logan grew up with drawings on his skin. When he was little, he was excited about it and would always show it to his parents. At the age of thirteen he began to understand the concept of soulmates and he tried to have a conversation with his soulmate, but he never got an answer. He eventually gave up. So, when Logan started karting, he had the habit to always draw the circuit into a small notebook he always carried with him. It’s a habit which still stayed with him even in Formula 1.
Y/n grew up with a love for drawing on her own skin. Pretty early in her life she got told to stop that because it shows up on another person's skin. So even when different questions started to show up on her arms, she tried to ignore and cover them. Thanks to her dad y/n grew up with a passion for motorsport. When she was little, she was watching the races in front of the TV with her dad. Now that she is 23, she got herself tickets for the Austrian GP with her best friend.
Logan was prepared for everything what might happened at this weekend. But when he wanted to draw the circuit into his red notebook, he couldn’t find it. He even asked Alex if he has seen it, but he only got a “No, sorry mate” back. So, he did the most logical thing he could think of, he drew the circuit on his underarm. Just the circuit, no turns or DRS zones.
At first y/n didn’t see the new drawing on her underarm. But because she was wearing a nice summer dress, her friend pointed it out to her: “Hey, look! Your soulmate drew the circuit on his arm. Maybe he’s also here.” Y/n took a closer look, and her friend was right it was the racetrack. “Do you have a pen? He forgot to add the turns and DRS zones to mark”, y/n said to her friend who handed her a pen and she added every other missing detail she could think of.
Logan didn’t notice the new details on his arm until Oscar pointed it out to him: “Hey man, there was just the circuit and now there are all the details. I think your soulmate knows a thing or two about racing”. Logan shakes his head and tries to focus on the race ahead.
Y/n and y/f/n are walking through the pit lane and looked in the different garages when y/n pumped into someone. Only a hand stopped her from falling to the ground. When she wanted to thank the person who saved her, she was met with an Oscar Piastri studying her arm. “So, you’re his soulmate. Oh, he will never believe me that one!” “You know my soulmate?”, y/n asks with a hopeful undertone in her voice. Oscar nods and simply drags her along to the Williams hospitality.
“Logan, I found her!”, is all Logan hears when he is leaving the hospitality. He looks up from his phone and sees Oscar who’s dragging a girl with him. “I found your soulmate! She has the same drawing as you on her arm”, Oscar is really excited about this.
“Hi!”, is all y/n manages to get out. The man in font of her holds out his hand y/n assumes to shake it and takes it. But to her surprise he takes a look at the drawing on her arm and his eyes start to sparkle. “Nice to meet you, soulmate”, he smiles.
©️oscpias 2024
#logan sargeant#logan sargeant imagine#oscar piastri#f1 imagines#f1 one shot#f1 x reader#logan sargent x reader#logan sargent fluff#ink soulmates#oscpias work#f1 x female reader
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Bad Boy - A Togame Jo x Reader Fanfic
Your town is controlled by two gangs: Shishitoren and Bofurin. With a taste for danger, you love to sneak over to the Shishitoren side, where you spot a handsome dark haired stranger rumored to be a violent and dangerous gang member. But he doesn’t seem so bad to you.
Smut. 18+. Gang AU. Busty Fem Reader. Togame is in his mid 20’s. Bondage. Oral. Rough sex. Reader is sexually aggressive and a tease. Divider by @benkeibear.
You first met Togame at the festival being held on the temple grounds. You’d come from the other end of town to hang out with your friend, and you were carrying a frozen treat in a cup made of paper. You bumped into someone tall, and your frozen treat smashed into his chest. You apologized, he gave you a curt nod, and that was it.
You turned and looked back at him as he walked over to a food stall to talk to the person running it. From the way he was dressed, you would assume that he worked at the temple. He had dark hair worn longer than most other men his age (early twenties if you were guessing) and striking green eyes.
He was entirely your type.
“Don’t even think about it,” your friend said when she noticed you staring.
You didn’t pry your eyes away even as you answered, “Why not?”
“His name’s Togame. He’s with the Shishitoren gang. Pretty high up in the ranks too. He’s well known for being violent, even with other members of the gang. He’s not someone you want to mess with.”
You were still watching him as he left the stall and walked further away. “A bad boy, huh?”
Your friend grabbed your wrist to get your attention. “Hey, listen to me! You better stay away from him! They say he shows no mercy to his own guys. What do you think he would do to you if he knew you have ties to the Bofurin?”
You gave her a grin. “No idea, but you’ve got me curious now.”
She sighed dramatically. “You’re gonna end up dead one of these days. You take a huge risk every time you come to this side of town.”
Her voice kept going, but you were not really listening. She might think this Togame guy is a big scary gang member, but she didn’t see what you saw. She didn’t see his face flush pink when your body brushed against his. Something tells you he’d be very fun to play with.
************************
When Togame found a couple of his guys cornering a college girl in an alley, he stopped to see what was going on.
One of them turns to him. “She’s from the other side. Her cousin is in Bofurin!”
Togame wonders what could possess her to reveal such information, but the cat’s out of the bag now. She’s an intruder on their territory, and they can’t just let her go.
“I’ll handle it,” he says, and the other two back away, revealing the hottest girl he’s ever seen. Everything from her shape to her hair to her eyes, to the way she stands there like a tasty lamb among wolves, draws his eye. Her skirt is way too short and her shirt, with tiny straps to hold it up, is way too tight. To his embarrassment, it’s very clear that she’s not wearing a bra.
“Come with me,” he tells her, keeping his voice smooth and controlled. He’s silently praying she doesn’t resist. If he has to manhandle her, he’s going to end up humiliating himself by popping a boner.
She looks up at him innocently. “Oh no, are you taking me captive?”
Something about her voice makes him think she’s definitely not innocent. “I’ll take you back to our base. Then we can decide what to do with a Bofurin interloper.”
She purses her glossy lips in obviously fake concern. “I hope you’ll be gentle with me!”
He tries to ignore the way her huge tits strain against her shirt, the way her hard nipples protrude as one thin strap falls off her shoulder.
“We’ll see,” he says, turning his back to her and walking toward the Ori, counting on her to follow. She clearly has some plan in mind, so he might as well see where this goes.
No one else is there at this hour, but he still takes her into one of the small side rooms. It was probably a break room for employees at some point. There are a few small chairs and one table that looks like it could break at any moment.
Just to be safe, he sits her in a chair and uses a discarded cord to tie her hands behind her. Whatever her game is, she’s definitely trouble, and he doesn’t need her slipping away to cause problems.
She squirms a bit in the chair. “Did you bring me to this abandoned building so you could have your way with me?”
He blinks. “Uh, no?”
She’s actually pouting! She wiggles a bit, pretending to pull at the cord. “But I’m all tied up and so helpless! You could do anything you want to me and I couldn’t stop you.”
He sighs, already getting a headache. This has to be some kind of trap or trick. “Right now, all I want to do is talk,” he tells her. “Why did you come to this side of town? If your cousin is in Bofurin, you must know you’re in enemy territory.”
She smiles at him. “I’ve heard you’re really important over here,” she says, completely avoiding the question. “Apparently you’re a bad guy. Violent. Scary.”
He can’t really deny it. Those words could definitely describe him at times, when he has to step up and take care of unpleasant business. He doesn’t enjoy it, and would much rather live a peaceful life. But he has a talent for inflicting violence on others, and he’s had to put that talent to use many times while weeding out traitors to the gang or fighting their enemies. He’s well aware of the reputation he’s fostered in town, which is why most women avoid him.
“And what if I am?” he asks the woman in front of him.
Her eyes seem to light up with excitement, but she feigns fear again. “Then it looks like I’m in the lion’s den. Will you eat me alive?”
His eyes rove up and down her body, and he has to literally will himself not to blush. She’s certainly tantalizing.
As she squirms around in the chair, her skirt slides up her thighs. She gasps in mock surprise. “Oh no, my skirt’s riding up! With my hands tied I can’t even pull it back down! This is so embarrassing, especially since I’ve misplaced my panties. If it rides up any more, you’ll see everything!”
If he’d been drinking anything, he would have comically spit it out. Instead, his eyes go wide and he swiftly turns his back to her before she can see how red his face is.
He’s never even thought about tearing a woman’s clothes off and fucking her raw until she’s a crying mess before, but this woman is going to turn him into a beast. He has to get it together!
Togame takes a moment to compose himself, to construct a calm and collected persona and keep it on. If there’s one thing he’s good at besides beating the shit out of people, it’s pretending to be something he’s not.
He turns back around, and she’s looking at him with hungry eyes. Her legs are spread slightly apart, the fabric of her skirt just barely covering her. If it slides up even one more inch, he’ll get an eyeful.
“Wow, I just noticed how tall you are,” she says. “With me being in this little chair, my face is at just the right height, huh?”
Maybe it’s the fact that he hasn’t had a whole lot of experience with women (and what little he had was back in high school), but he doesn’t realize what she means. “The right height for what?”
She giggles, probably amused by his naivety, and says, “For shoving your cock in my mouth.”
Ah, fuck, now that she’s said it, he can’t help picturing her plump, shiny lips stretched around the base of his cock as she chokes on it. He tries to clear his mind, to ignore all the lewd thoughts invading his brain, but they just keep marching in. And of course, he’s rapidly growing hard. His loose pants should keep it from being obvious though. He hopes.
He decides to try a different tactic. Maybe she won’t be so coy if he intimidates her a little.
Stepping right up to her, he looms over her bound form. Someone so much smaller than him should definitely be afraid. Especially someone aware of his reputation. He slams one hand down on the back of the chair, right beside her shoulder, and says in his most threatening tone, “Why did you come here? What game are you playing?”
She looks up at him, her skin flushed, her lips parted. Holy shit, she looks horny! Does she get off on danger or what?
“Do you want me to be honest?” she asks, and for the first time her voice doesn’t have that phony damsel in distress tone.
“Just tell me,” he says, still leaning over her.
She hesitates, then takes a breath. “You probably don’t remember, but I bumped into you at the festival a few days ago. I got my ice cream all over you.”
He does remember, but he’d been so flustered by the feel of soft tits brushing against him that he hadn’t looked at the woman’s face. “That was you?”
She nods. “My friend told me about you, how you’re in Shishitoren and you’re so dangerous. I watched you for a little while and thought you were hot. So I started hanging around over here in the hopes that I could meet you.”
He feels himself getting red again, but he doesn’t turn around this time. “So you’ve met me. What do you want from me?”
She opens her legs a little more in the chair, her skirt edging up. Fuck, he really is going to see everything. “Isn’t it obvious?” she asks with a cat like grin. “I want you to wreck me.”
That’s it. He can’t take anymore. If she really wants him that badly, then he’ll fuck that smug grin right off her pretty face.
Even if he’s blushing like a schoolboy while he does it.
**************************
You know exactly what you’re doing. You had this all planned out after all. You want Togame, and you intend to have him. But even with that in mind, you’re still surprised when he suddenly pulls out a massive cock, already hard and leaking, and does exactly what you suggested earlier: shoves it into your hot wet mouth.
He groans as he pushes it all the way in, gripping your hair for leverage, burying your nose in his soft, curly black pubic hair. Oh god, he’s so big, and so forceful, you’re already drenched.
He’s halfway down your throat, making you gag and sputter around his cock, holding your head in place so you can’t pull back. Ahh, this is why you love bad guys. Tease them enough and they’ll fucking ruin you.
But you’ve seen enough to realize Togame is not all that he seems. The way he reddens and gets flustered is just so cute! So when you look up at him, tears stinging your eyes, he quickly pulls back enough to let you breathe. There’s an unspoken apology on his face, but once you begin licking his shaft like a popsicle, all hesitation disappears from his expression.
He fucks your mouth, not quite as roughly as you expected given his supposed violent tendencies, but hard enough to make you moan around his cock as you continue to make an absolute mess in the chair.
The sound of him breathing hard turns you on even more, and you wish one of your hands was free so you could shove it under your skirt.
You constrict your throat around him, loving the way it makes him grunt and pump in harder. And after several minutes of absolutely railing your mouth, you feel his cock twitch and slide out. He barely makes it past your lips before his cum shoots out in thick ropes across your face, plenty of it splattering your lips and sliding onto your tongue.
He’s panting above you, looking a little embarrassed. Was he trying to pull out in time to avoid filling your mouth? How sweet. You’re starting to think he’s not such a bad boy after all.
You lick your lips clean as he stares at you, catching his breath. “Sorry,” he mutters, moving to go behind you, probably to untie your hands so you can clean your face.
“Don’t untie me yet,” you tell him.
He pauses and looks at you questioningly.
You tilt your head, causing more of his cum to drip to the corner of your mouth so you can reach it with your tongue. Then, as he watches intently with a pink flush to his face, you open your legs widely. Your skirt bunches at your waist, and your dripping pussy is on full display.
“Are you really going to leave me like this?”
You hear his breath hitch, and just like magic, his cock is getting hard again. He looks you in the eyes, as if wanting to be sure. In response, you slide your hips forward, through your own juices, spreading your thighs even wider.
That did the trick. Suddenly he’s jerking you up from the chair, your hands still tied behind you, and shoving you face down on the rickety table, effectively bending you over. His knees prod your legs apart, and before you can react at all, he buries the entirety of his cock in your pussy, making you gasp.
Holy fuck, he’s even bigger than you thought. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in, and you can’t help but whimper as your bound hands grasp at air.
You feel him lean over you from behind, and then his smooth voice in your ear, “This is what you wanted, right?”
His thrusts are so rough, the table is nearly scooting across the floor. You’re going to be sore for days after this. But god it feels good! “Yes!” you cry, clenching around him. “Break me!”
One of his hands reaches around and slides under your shirt, squeezing your breast hard before pinching your nipple. You hiss from the sting of it, getting more and more worked up. He’s hitting you so deep, right in the spot that makes your toes curl.
“Ahhh… f-fuck, you’re so big,” you breathe out, feeling like he might literally split you in two.
“You’re just… too tight…!” he mutters back, not slowing his thrusts at all.
Maybe you teased him a little too much, because it feels like he’s made it his personal mission to fuck you absolutely stupid.
And you love every second of it.
He hits a particularly deep and sensitive spot, over and over, and suddenly you’re cumming, screaming out his name and squirting all over the table. He fucks you through it, both his hands now gripping your waist so hard, you know the imprints of his fingers will be there for a long time.
When you feel him twitch again inside you, you quickly say, “Don’t pull out! I’m on birth control!”
“Oh fuck,” he says, sounding almost intoxicated as he plunges in as deeply as he can and releases his seed. You savor the feel of it churning inside you, filling you up completely.
When he finally pulls out, he stands there behind you for a moment, probably watching his cum drip out of you. Then he reaches down and unties your wrists.
You stand up, rubbing the raw, red circles on your skin where the cord was. You like how they look.
He’s fixing his pants and looking a little awkward as you pull your skirt back down. “Is there a bathroom in here?” you ask casually.
“Down the hall on the left. It’s not the cleanest one though,” he says.
“That’s fine. But you guys should probably clean it up if you’re gonna bring girls here.”
He gives you an uneasy smile. “I doubt that’s going to happen often.”
You blink at him. “Really? So I’m not invited to come back?”
His eyes widen. “Oh… uh, if you want to…” he says, his hand ruffling the back of his hair. “You’re welcome anytime.”
You grin. “Does the rest of your gang know what a sweetheart you are?”
He blushes again, but is obviously trying to look stern. “You better keep quiet about that!”
You blow him a kiss before you leave. “Your secret’s safe with me!”
#togame jo x reader#togame x reader#togame jo#togame smut#wind breaker smut#windbreaker x reader#wind breaker x reader#x reader
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why does sleepwalking women and gothic horror go hand in hand
You asking me?
The answer is voyeurism.
Here's the thing about gendered horror: the goddamn eroticism. You can't escape it, people want to get their rocks off even when they're terrified-- especially when they're terrified! It's such popular imagery because of the intimacy of a woman with all her hair let down in only a white nightgown highlighted by the pale moonlight. A nightgown is very innocent in its intimacy, there's nothing inherently sexual about it, but that just gets people even more horny! No structured garments underneath-- she's wearing breeches obviously but shhh no she's totally naked save for some sheer billowing fabric.
EDIT: oh my god blah blah blah "breeches! actually she wouldn't be wearing those!! oh my god, they got it wrong, just shoot them in the streets, your honour!" FINE SHE'S NOT WEARING ANY PANTIES UNDER THERE, GOOD FOR YOU YOU GOT ME.
Gasp! Unprotected purity! I sure hope no dastardly villain tarnishes this woman! (they do. they do hope for that actually)
This isn't a very fun answer, is it? But it's worth saying. Horror explicitly involving women tends to be very visual with plenty of (arguably) sexual imagery. Men get the mindboggling horrors inconceivable to the human psyche while women are limited to being eye candy who faint before their minds can even be boggled (no that isn't a euphemism). Even when the women in question previously had a larger role in the story than "sexy lamp", pop culture will be quick to reframe it in the way that has the most sex appeal.
But like... let's take the woman's perspective: you're in a state of undress and completely unaware of your surroundings. It's dark and anyone lurking around at this time might very well have bad intentions, and they might turn those bad intentions on you. And you'll be blamed for being in the wrong place, at the wrong time, in the wrong dress. Terrifying. And people don't really appreciate the terror of it because... it's pretty, isn't it?
But then Lucy is weeping in her sleep, and Mina is covering her feet in mud for propriety. Because who knows what a man will do to them if he sees her naked feet? They're both cowering in fear hoping a drunken man doesn't take notice of them. Because who knows what he'll do to them if he sees two young ladies out at night? They're sweating from not just exertion but stress, and their messy hair clings to their frightened faces. They cannot tell anyone. Because who knows what toll this night might take on their good reputations?
It's not pretty. There's no see-through dresses (seriously their nightgowns are made of fucking linen, not organza), no flowing locks, no full faces of makeup, just pure society-ingrained horror.
But cis men don't typically understand that horror because they aren't usually victim to it. It honestly makes me sad and angry that the imagery is so prominent (and in such a watered-down and bland "sexy" way) because it reduces the actual horror these two protagonists face to nothing more than an audience's voyeuristic fantasy in which the women are only objects to be gawked at. The danger is reframed as tantalizing and enticing "ooo good girls (unknowingly) being bad in their sleep!" rather than... they could have fucking died. Or worse.
... But I still want to draw my girls (Jonathan, Mina, and Lucy) in cute nightgowns, so I'll bite my tongue.
#update#people ask me things#you definitely wanted like a funny or sexy response out of me sorry#I've been having tiddy nightmares so I cannot enjoy the 'sleepwalking in nothing but a nightgown' imagery#dracula#dracula daily#mina murray#lucy westenra#all caps#gabrielisdead
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Hi! I just read Prince steve's shot of the steampunk au and god, I loved it. I saw below it said you could make a request for it, so I wanted to know if you could do one about the how they met. I know it's mentioned, but I'd like to see what it was like at the time, if it's not too much trouble.
PS: qmo how you write, you are one of my role models 💕.
prince!steve au ♡ fem, 1.1k
Young people stand like dominoes in the sun, teetering, waiting to topple in on one another if given reason. Nine days of bated breath, the city waits in a ramping anticipation for Prince Steven to meet his soulmate.
You're almost hoping it isn't you so you can go home and rest your aching legs. Hours in the warm summer air, your worst dress sticking to the back of your clammy knees. You're not fit to meet the Prince. But… if you meet the Prince, and you were to somehow be his soulmate, you'd live an easy life.
You'd live in a Palace, wear the finest clothes, eat the nicest foods (three times a day!). You could spend your days lounging under crystal chandeliers eating plates of fruit and expensive cheeses, air-conditioned and always smelling of vanilla, or sandalwood, or saffron. You've never tried saffron perfume, but it's the most expensive at the apothecary.
The line mills shorter. You follow close to the heels of a girl dressed in better finery, a cherry red dress that looks like it's made of thin sheets of glass, her dark hair coiled in sweet cherubic curls at the back of her neck. They bounce with every step you take closer to the pedestal. You attach your attention to them, following the winding twist of them to the root over and over.
You want very badly to be the Prince's soulmate. You'd be stupid not to want such luxury. But letting yourself believe that it's you out of the tens of thousands of eligible young people is asking to feel disheartened.
You convince yourself for the millionth time that it's not you as you follow the line inside of the royal gardens. Trees with weeping branches arc inward, their leaves kissing and sunlight dappled onto the people below. You feel it warming your skin as you take the final stretch.
Apparently, for the King's soulmate search, he simply held out his arm and let women touch the inside of his palm with their pinky finger. He did this for two days. Prince Steven's search is taking much longer, as he's insisted on greeting and shaking the hands of everyone who's presented themselves.
You wonder what that might feel like. He's a super pretty man, with exactly the sort of smile a Prince might hope to have. Whenever you see him on the holo screens you feel sick, wanting desperately to remain indifferent to him, but knowing you're just like every other silly young person in the kingdom. You want to be a special perfect royal. You want to take his hand and leave behind your disappointing life.
Too bad it's a fantasy.
"Next, please," says a young woman with red hair, looking at you pointedly.
You bite your bottom lip between your teeth and walk determined to the top of the garden. Up three gentle steps and into a Palace of white, pearly stone. There's a long corridor lined with guards who eye you as you draw in. Deemed decidedly undangerous, they let you pass into a makeshift reception. You'd already had your name taken to be allowed in the line; nothing stands in your way of the Prince but chiffon pink curtains that shine like rose honey in the sun and a surprisingly small girl with a sword.
And there, among an audience of officials and important people, sits the Prince. He looks smaller than you imagined, a little tired. The girl with the sword kicks his shin and he perks up, to the ire of the older members of his court.
"Hey," he calls, "don't be shy! And don't be slow, either. Please. I missed dinner last night–" The girl clears her throat. Prince Steven takes on a more princely effect. "Please, come in."
The audience isn't exactly paying attention. Any hope they had for a soul mate today has seemingly passed, and you can hear a few poorly muffled scoffs at your appearance. Surely the girl before you posed a more pleasing possibility. She looked like a princess.
You stall a few paces from him.
He frowns at you. In his garb, his neat clothes, a heavy platinum crown atop his head, he's strangely intimidating. You assumed he'd feel more familiar up close, like buying a gemstone from the catalogues and finding they've sent you zirconium, but it's the opposite.
"Are you okay?" the girl asks.
"She's fine," Prince Steven says, standing up from his ornate chair. He steps down from the short platform, even his steps a princely brand of perfection. "Well you're more than fine," he says to you, and you gather from the get go that he's not flirting with you, only joking to ease your nerves.
He offers his hand.
You take in a breath and approach him with measured steps. Being run through by his personal guards crystal sword isn't on your agenda this week.
All you have to do is touch his hand and go home when nothing happens. You're nervous, but stalling any longer prolongs the awkwardness you've created.
You step forward.
Before your fingers can touch his palm, the feathered lines curled around your opposite wrists begin to glow.
A silence falls.
You take your hand back but the light doesn't fade. It's white, nearly cream in colour, with the density of fog but none of its cold. Prince Steven's eyes are wide and awash, the sun-kissed skin of his arm paled. "You–" he says, stepping forward again.
You take his hand. You have to know.
White light sears and then blooms, like petals unfurling, the source of it indistinguishable from your wrist or his. And then, when you're sure your heart might fall out of your mouth, the light dims. What remains is thin as fairy floss wrapped around your skin and his.
He rubs the meat of your thumb with the tip of his, and that light glows soft pink, like flower jam.
"It's you," he says. He sounds happy, as though you were a pleasant surprise.
You tuck your hand behind your back, and the glow remains. It's you. You're Prince Steven's soul mate.
"She doesn't look much like a princess," someone whispers.
"I wouldn't say that," Prince Steven says, his eyes roving over you without apology. His smile is as authentic as they come. "I think you'd better meet my mother."
"Now?" you ask.
"Afraid so. Don't worry, though, you look pretty." He offers his hand again. "Come on."
He's a prince. You take his hand.
#prince!steve au#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington drabble#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things 4
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Conventional femininity is not solely defined by being sexually appealing to men-- it's defined by being pleasing to them. You give up wearing tutus and bright colors because they don't want you too noticeable, it draws attention away from them. You don't wear glitter and sequins or faux feathers anymore, because it might get on a man and its rude to put them at risk, masculinity is fragile. You grow up and it's unprofessional to look like you're having fun, to look unrestrained. Playtime is over, you're a woman, not a girl, and a conventional woman's job is to live her life in service and compromise to a husband and children.
A high femme is not conventionally feminine because a high femme does not dress like a grown-up. There is no reason for her to grow out of the pleasure of playing dress-up, of feeling good because she thinks she looks pretty-- not pretty as in fuckable but pretty like a firework: you don't know why it's fun, it just is. And it's LOUD. It takes up SPACE. It stands OUT. The neighbors complain about it. Presenting this way is to be seen as immature, as un-self aware, as not taking ourselves seriously. Some days, yes, it's intentionally confrontational: a fuck-you to compulsory heterosexuality. But most of the time--my God. There's no more room for our gender presentation to grow, no incentive for it to change or become watered down. Sure, we fall prey to commodifying our image for others sometimes-- who of any gender doesn't?
But what I keep coming back to is: everybody just wants to feel right in their gender. I don't know how to feel right in my gender when everyone else defines my gender based on an attraction I don't feel-- but I know I was less defined by that when I was little, and I know back then I had fun wearing sparkles and lace. That's one thing that still feels like me.
Anyway, that's why the Barbie trailer doesn't feel like eye-candy for men.
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I didn't think about this before until I saw some tasty poly 3v art on r34 but like: Valentino and/or Vox forcing a tech/TV/computer Reader to play porn on their screen face for them to not only watch the porn but also get off on humiliating/objectifying you
Like could you even imagine you're just this. Little fucking TV DWEEB and Valentino hires you as some kinda manual labor goon after literally scouting you off the street because you kinda remind him of Vox and, maybe he'd fuck you if you got fixed up a little more, and one day Val's phone is broken and he makes you use your face/body to help him do a thing, check his email or something, and Valentino just pauses, quirks his mouth, "can you get porn on this thing?"
and because not only is he Your Fucking Boss but also an Overlord and Scary As Fuck, you cave; he only has to get a little growly and impatient and you fold like a lawn chair, pulling up whatever he told you to look up. In a future event where you were to "misbehave" and draw his ire, I can see him forcing you to play something of Angel to psychologically fuck with both of you if the two of you were friends
First, it starts with just Valentino, but then he invites Vox to come and watch you, and the tech CEO is immediately interested in your physical body/appearance but most importantly curious about your hardware/software capabilities (and maybe feeling vaguely threatened/insecure Val is going to replace him with you)
Have I ever mentioned "computer/smartphone/laptop Reader who can be used as a computer by other people and you have an actual track pad your 'user' has to touch to click and move the mouse" before, because I keep thinking of a Reader who either has a track pad on the palm of one of your hands, or, it being a specific square/rectangular shape on your upper chest/clavicle sort of area (which you would be extremely embarrassed if someone was using your trackpad by force because you have to wear lower cut shirts or they're all but holding your hand and tickling your palm)
Velvette who doesn't want to fuck you or anything but if you're going to constantly be in her house you might as well look presentable and you quickly become her new favorite dress-up dolly/tablet. fml you're basically gonna be like her equivalent of a customized phone case except she's styling you and maybe even changing any coats of paint you have to different glosses or textures if need be. She's using you like a PDA, logging notes she needs to remember, putting appointments in a personal digital calendar, making you take photos of her and her models and send them to her
Yandere Vees who customize your tech body by force??? 😳 Vox who thinks you're a cool cute little computer but you're literally like an OG big ass dial up computer and he just, forces you under the knife or whatever and you wake up with completely modern parts? Vox who forces you to be the hardware he PLAYS VIDEO GAMES ON? Vox who forces you to watch his favorite shows with him by streaming them through your body, maybe even installing a projector on you (or you already have one) so you sit beside him while streaming? The Vees forcing you to be like an assistant that follows them around taking pictures of them and they decide your photos are too shitty and pixelated and they forcibly update your camera and video capabilities? The Vees who force you to change not only because they think you would look better but because they are literally actually LITERALLY USING YOU to perform different tasks? Literally using you like a toy and object?
You're internally hoping maybe one day you can rise up and escape (potentially to a certain audiophile demon who actually likes your original, almost vintage sound quality once he helps revert you back, perhaps?) and meanwhile Valentino is asking Vox if they can start installing some sort of Go Go Gadget Gorilla Grip Pussy equipment inside of you or "did you figure out if they can vibrate anything yet--"
#yandere hazbin hotel#yandere x reader#yandere hellaverse#valentino x reader#vox x reader#hh#sinprompts
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