#So far down the rabbit hole guys

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

[firstkanaphans]

I had no idea about those Taming of the shrew rumors but holy cow am i here for this. Also, who'd be Bianca????

Assuming Khaotung is playing Kat, Perth has to be Bianca. They look so much alike!

But otherwise make it Ciize and give her a girlfriend.

[ravenousgf]

does anyone have good wesper fic recs i am desperate

[twcbelts]

* when you're brainstorming ideas for your otp's children and you emotionally wreck yourself ...

[titania-sleeps]

Submissive Omega Yandere x Alpha Reader

hi guys it's tmr and i was able to cut down some of the words! i left out the full ver of his first heat and your first rut so that'll be a dif post

idk if i should go fully into omegaverse stuff and just give reader a dick regardless of gender (cause apparently female alphas have retractable dicks) so i'm avoiding that for now

edit: more works featuring Adonis: Adonis Rides You, First Heat

warning: nsfw, dom reader, omegaverse (heats, ruts, yknow), minors DNI pls

• Adonis and you have been fuck buddies for three years now. At first, it was out of necessity; you were both teenagers with raging hormones, and being an omega and alpha respectively meant that the two of you had a difficult time taking care of your needs on your own.

• Adonis was surprised when you proposed the idea to him in your third year of high school. The two of you were good friends by then, and you probably knew of his plight. However, his heart raced nonetheless and he wondered if you secretly had a crush on him. He wouldn't have minded if you did, since you were his type! Sadly, you made it clear to him that you weren't interested in him as a romantic partner, only as a sexual partner.

• Adonis didn't let that deter him, however. He couldn't deny that he felt a little disappointed, but he didn't think too much of it at that time. As long as he didn't fall in love with you, everything would be alright.

• Adonis fucked up. Two months into your friends w/ benefit situation with him, he'd already caught feelings. Whenever he was around you, his pulse would increase and his senses would go into overdrive. Even when the two of you weren't fucking like rabbits, his hole was dripping for you.

• Adonis cursed at himself every time he went on a date with you. (They were dates because he considered it so and he would take no other opinions.) It was especially terrible when you went shopping with him. He couldn't help himself but think about you fucking him senseless in the changing rooms. Just the thought of it alone had him squeezing his thighs, his breaths heavy.

• Adonis tried to hide it from you, but you easily noticed his rose scent growing stronger. You would pull him to the side and ask him gently if he was in heat. The worst part was that he wasn't. He was simply always like this around you.

• Adonis loved that you never asked any further questions. You would quickly take him home and tell him to strip. And strip he gladly did. He didn't have the time to prepare himself for you, but you didn't need it. In a matter of seconds, your tongue was in his hole, thrusting in and out. Your hand rubbed his rock-hard member, sliding easily with his slick. During those nights, he would cum quickly and sleep deeply, arms wrapped around your waist tightly. He would not let you leave him.

• Adonis didn't understand how you were so nonchalant. He felt silly being the only one so affected by the intimacy the two of you were supposedly sharing. He assumed that you would've bitten him already, but you were so resilient.

• Adonis tried to ignore it, and he did a really good job at doing so! Well, for about a week. He just didn't get it; he was perfect for you and you were perfect for him. Your scent intoxicated him, and he was sure that his scent affected you the same way. So why didn't you want him more?

• Adonis spent the next year grappling with his situation. It only got worse over time; just a small whiff of your scent drove his instincts insane. He needed to be bred by you, for you to mark him. He needed you to claim him, to destroy his being and rebuild him from scratch.

• Adonis had his first official heat in the middle of the day at school that same year. It came out of nowhere, and the arousal he felt was far greater than anything he'd ever experienced in the past.

• Adonis didn't bother hiding it. You were talking to your friends, but he interrupted and dragged you away by the arm, his face flushed. You were concerned, as you always were, but his eyes were clouded in need. He pushed you into the janitor's closet, locking the door behind you.

• Adonis stuck onto you in the closet, trembling. Sweat trickled down his neck, glistening against his skin. His scent was stronger than it had ever been; no longer just roses but now with a hint of lemon.

• Adonis whined, grinding against your leg. His pants were already soaking wet, the sticky liquid coating your leg. You sighed; you knew were going to miss class for the rest of the day.

• Adonis clung to you for the rest of the school year, nearly attached to your hip. You had lunch with him every day, you walked him home every day, and even your weekends were spent with him. He was so happy that you were giving him so much attention!

• Adonis suffered greatly during your last year of high school. He was so close to confessing to you, but he didn't want to lose what he already had with you. But you were glowing, your demeanor so confident and charismatic. He could see the other omegas turning their heads whenever they walked past the two of you.

• Adonis knew that if he didn't act quick, another omega would try and seduce you. He couldn't stand the thought of that, especially since he laid his eyes on you first. He would be your first and only mate. No one else.

• Adonis's heart dropped when he witnessed a small female omega confess to you under a cherry blossom tree the day of your graduation. He was planning to do that. That was supposed to be you and him.

• Adonis didn't bother trying to think when he intercepted her confession. He grabbed your arm, pressing his chest against it.

"Who is this, darling?" he had asked. The shock and hurt on her face were worth every ounce of courage it took for him to do that. She ran away, sobbing, and he was left with you and a sense of pride. No one was going to come between you and him.

• Adonis was scolded by you afterward, but he didn't care. You were his alpha, his fated mate. You didn't need any other omegas. That night, you treated him roughly, your body pressed heavily against his and your teeth baring at him.

• Adonis grinned. You were going to bite him! Surely, this was where you would finally, finally bite him. Hurry, show him what bad boys get. Show him that naughty boys get bitten, claimed against their will, and used like toys.

• Adonis was disappointed when you left the morning after, no bite marks on his body. He was being so good for you, so why didn't you claim him? Did you have someone else? Did he have to resort to murder just so you'd look solely at him?

• Adonis swore to himself that this year would be the year you bite him. This year would be your final year as fuck buddies. Next year, you two will already be mates. And if there's one thing you need to know about Adonis, it is that he mates for life.

something in me wanted to name him adonis casanova bc that would've been really funny but he's just adonis. for now.

next adonis fic is gonna be his first heat (in detail) and then maybe your first rut (also in detail),,,

-> masterlist

[rumplereids]

research purposes.

tags: spencer reid x reader. tech analyst!reader. mentions of 50 shades of grey. bau ladies are like gossiping wine moms. fluff & crack, bcos spencer has been thru enough already. referenced/mentioned sexual acts but nothing explicit. a/n: got inspired by aj cook implying mgg was reading 50 shades + the table read of cm where mgg’s name card was “matthew 50 shades of gray gubler” masterlist. requests are open !

The team is on the jet home from a consultation in San Francisco. Everybody’s either dozing off (Emily and Derek), eating (Rossi), or doing paperwork (Hotch, as usual). JJ is scrolling on her phone, catching up on the pictures and videos Will sent of Henry when she notices something very bizarre.

“Reid, are you reading 50 Shades of Grey?”

“Huh?” he looks up from the paragraph he was reading. Something about not making love and only fucking hard. Or whatever drivel he’s suffering for you.

“I didn’t peg you the type to be reading romance or erotica.”

“It’s for research.”

JJ quirks a brow Spencer doesn’t see. His eyes already returned to the book in his hands.

“Research? For Y/N?”

“Yep,” Spencer turns a page.

JJ continues to gape at him. She wants to press for more details, but with a shake of her head, decides she was better off not knowing the intricacies of the relationship of people she considers her siblings. No matter how baffled she is by the fact that Spencer Reid is reading 50 Shades of Grey, she doubts that she’d want to dip a toe in that rabbit hole. However, she has no qualms of bringing up this certain knowledge in the near future.

Spencer was in a rush to finish his case load for the day. It’s your day off, so he’s doing anything he can so that he can go home earlier than usual. With you out for the day, he can’t even pop into your office to bug you, talk your ear off, or have an impromptu make out session. It was so sad, really.

He’s down to his last three folders when Derek attempts to get his attention.

“Pst! Pretty boy,” Morgan whisper-yells.

“Yes?”

“How’s Y/N?”

Spencer’s a bit perplexed by the question. While it’s not unusual for Derek to worry about your well-being, he finds it a bit weird for Derek to be asking such a question at that exact moment. As far as he knows, you texted Derek 15 minutes ago about mold on the street that you insist looked like the aforementioned man. That was the last time Spencer talked to you as well.

“She’s fine. Enjoying her day off.”

There’s a big grin crawling across Derek’s face. Such a look on a man like Derek Morgan spelled trouble. He looks like he knows something that Spencer doesn’t. Spencer’s starting to get cautious.

“Anything exciting happened to you guys this weekend?” Derek asks with that shit-eating, I-know-something-you-don’t-know grin.

Spencer raises a brow.

“Not much. The usual,” Spencer flips a page in his file.

Morgan hums, “Ah, yes. The usual.”

Spencer looks up at Derek, perplexed. Having no idea what in the world Morgan is trying to get to.

“Late night?” Derek continues. Spencer shuts the folder in his hands.

“Are you trying to insinuate something?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

Spencer rolls his eyes and returns his attention to his work. Completely ignoring the chuckles coming from Morgan.

A few days later, Spencer is making his second cup of coffee at the office kitchenette, bracing himself for another round of paperwork when he hears somebody rush into the room. He turns from the counter to see you, flushed and embarrassed?

“Hey, darling—”

“Why did Penelope ask me how it’s like to have my own Christian Grey?”

“What?” Spencer puts his mug down to turn his full attention on you.

“She barged into my office, asking me what kind of BDSM we’re into!” you devolve into a sort of whisper-yell, eyes shifting as to check if there were other people around. The two of you were alone in the area.

“Why would she ask that?”

“I don’t know? Something about you researching BDSM for me?”

Spencer shuts his eyes in realization, “JJ.”

“JJ? What’s she got to do with this?”

“A week ago, on the jet home from San Francisco. I was reading 50 Shades of Grey.”

You take a pause, “You read 50 Shades? I thought you said it was complete nonsense?”

“My opinion hasn’t changed on that. But I overheard you and Garcia giggling over the movie’s actor… I wanted to see what it was all about.” He tries to be nonchalant with what he’s saying. You completely melt into a puddle.

“Oh, Spence. That is the cutest and sweetest thing that has ever happened to me.”

Spencer blushes red at the comment. All these years together, and you never fail to make him feel so lovestruck and bashful.

He clears a throat, “The BDSM in the book is so atrocious. Have you read it? Or are you only interested in the movie?”

“Just the movie,” you say with a grin.

“Their lack of communication is astounding. It’s completely far off from the BDSM we’re into.”

There’s a gasp behind you. You turn to see Garcia at the entryway of the kitchenette, one mug in hand, the other hand pressed against her chest.

“Oh , I knew it. Ya’ll nasty.”

“Penelope—” you start to speak. She cuts you off.

“I didn’t believe JJ at first when she said Spencer was reading 50 Shades for research. I mean, really, Spencer Reid and BDSM? Never thought to correlate those two things ever in my life,” Penelope rambles, and then mid-thought, she turns to you, “So you do have your own Christian Grey! That’s so sexy— I don’t think that’s the right word considering it’s Reid—” this earns a snort from the man watching amused, standing against the counter, “Have you recreated any scenes from the books?”

“Penelope!” you say, aghast.

“I mean, if Spencer’s using 50 Shades to spice up your sexy times then—”

Spencer begins to laugh. You turn to face him, in disbelief that he can laugh at your mortification.

“Trust me, Penelope,” he says, “we don’t need 50 Shades to spice up our sex lives.”

“Spencer!” You can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth right now. Penelope looks as if she’s hearing the greatest gossip scandal the world has ever produced.

“50 Shades is tame compared to us.”

“What?!” a third voice enters the conversation. Emily and JJ enter the kitchenette. Emily looked a bit confused, JJ looks just about ready to shit on you too.

You hide your face in your hands, trying to hide away from Spencer’s laughter. Emily, JJ, and Penelope start to bounce comments and choice words between the three of them. You hear words such as ‘unbelievable’, ‘kinky’, and the real kicker, ‘Dr. Reid will see you now’. You want to dig yourself into a hole.

Hands grip your hips, squeezing in silent comfort. Without removing your hands from your face, you mumble, “This is all your fault.” Spencer laughs once more, hands squeezing your hips one more time before he turns to pick up his coffee mug.

He moves to leave the kitchen, turning to you with a smug look on his face before he says, “Laters, baby.”

You refuse to acknowledge the three ladies descending on you like a pack of wolves.

taglist: @i-live-in-spite @khxna

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 19 || The Halt of Something New

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, fluff, & angst.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 6.1k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——YOU'RE AN IDIOT.

Did you really think that everything was going to be all sunshine and rainbows just because you have a crush on a guy who treats you right?

How humorous it is for you to have been worried about Choso using you as if that's not exactly what you're doing to him. Sure, you wish things were different and that you weren't technically using him but, it's the truth-- you are using the man.

Sleeping with Choso was a requirement for you. His name was just something you needed to cross off the list, a box in which needed to be checked.

And let's not forget, you have to go on and sleep with Sukuna sooner or later. Someone who Choso's related to, according to Gojo.

How the fuck are you going to pull that off?

By now, it's been approximately two months since you've been blackmailed. Going down your accomplishments so far, out of a total of seven men, Gojo included, you've got the majority of the list completed.

After that one night with Choso, you found it extremely difficult to move on to the next guy. You weren't expecting it to be this hard but, you just couldn't leave the man alone.

You spend all of your free time texting him or on the phone with him and whenever your schedules align with one another, the two of you are within each other's company.

Those rendezvous that you had with Geto came to a stop and you ended up sleeping with Choso more than anyone else.

From your apartment, to his car, to his apartment, to his art studio, and even to a vacant janitor's closet-- you and Choso have been fucking like rabbits. The guy couldn't get enough of you.

Sex aside, he couldn't get enough of everything about you. If Gojo was right about anything; Choso did in fact grow attached to you.

Thing is, you couldn't differentiate whether or not he was attached because of the sex or because of you in general. Either way, it wasn't good.

The two of you hung out often and you only got to know him more and more and more. Choso's a wonderful person and you view him as your way out of the dark and deep hole Gojo's dragged you down into.

Even so, you can't help but feel like something about Choso is... off.

His care for you often overshines it but you simply cannot ignore how odd some of his actions or phrases to you are. For example; after the first time you slept with him and he left, how did he get back into your apartment?

You never asked him about it but you do wonder sometimes. Did he take a key before he left? Or did he simply leave your door unlocked so that he could get back in? Either way, it's odd.

Then there are those prolonged stares of his. You can feel the way he drinks in every little detail on your face. At first, you thought it was an artistic thing, thinking that maybe he admires you so intently because he sees beauty.

But over time, it really begins to feel as though Choso's inspecting you, printing your facial expressions and smallest gestures in his brain.

These moments of intimate study over your features give you wavering fluctuates of emotions in your chest. Sometimes you enjoy his expressive eyes and other times you don't.

Even so, none of it makes you like him any less, it just makes you feel like the man sees right through you. Choso makes you feel like a piece of glass, especially when you're lying to him.

As much as you can, you avoid talking about anything or anyone regarding the list when you're around him but the few times you slip up, you swear Choso is able to see through all the bullshit. That's what makes you nervous.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

A wise person once said; ignorance is bliss. Such a phase is nothing more than true for a woman such as yourself.

You believe you know a lot about Choso. You also believe you know a lot about Gojo.

But the truth is, you don't. There's a long twisted and fucked up path ahead for you but your ignorance is what keeps you in a blissful state, shielding you from the twisted truths of the feelings being harbored for you.

Honestly, it isn't difficult for one to acknowledge Choso's obvious crush on you. However, you fail to see the depths of said crush.

In the time you spend getting to know him and being around him, you end up being very transparent with him, to which he reciprocates every time. At one point you admit to Choso that you've slept with others within the time you've known him, sparing the details of who (of course).

His response to that information was that there was another girl he had relations with named Yuki but he stopped fooling around with her around the same time he started having sex with you. It was kinda messy and somewhere deep down you think you were a bit jealous but you had no right to feel that way.

And while jealousy is the topic of narration; Choso subtly lets his show every now and then.

He's aware that you and he aren't in a relationship but that never stops him from pulling your body close to his when he sees someone staring at you, or giving someone a death stare as they speak to you, or even telling someone to fuck off whenever they try hitting on you.

Is it wrong of him to do so? Technically, yes. You're not his girlfriend so he has no right. But, do you stop him from doing any of those things? No. Do you secretly enjoy seeing him act this way? Perhaps.

Even so, Choso does try to keep his jealousy over the small things at an all-time low. The last thing he wanted you to see was how far his care for you really went.

And he had it under so much control until he saw the negative effect a specific person (Gojo) has on you...

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

In all honesty, you had forgotten about the list for a while as Choso's presence and your feelings for him consumed you. At least, until Gojo texted you.

Currently, you sit in the passenger seat of Choso's car, your fingers aggressively tapping at your phone screen as your mood sours from merely one text from your blackmailer.

The vehicle is parked not too far from your apartment complex as Choso had driven you home from a day spent at the museum. He said he needed to go there for research for one of his classes and invited you along but you can't deny the fact that the whole thing felt like a date.

Even so, Choso's in the driver's seat, his ears perking up at the sound of your fingers tapping so quickly and aggravatedly across your cell phone. The man can't help the burning curiosity he feels as he glances over to you.

With tensed brows, your jaw clearly clenched, and scoff after scoff leaving you in reaction to whatever's on your phone-- Choso finds it physically impossible not to feel the need to question you.

"Are you alright over there, love?" He asks carefully after hearing your sixth sigh in a row.

You don't even look up from your phone, too engrossed in Gojo's stupid concerns for you, "Mhm, I'm fine."

"Liar." Choso points out.

A frustrated little groan leaves your lips, "I'm fine, Choso." You repeat, your voice stern.

The man tilts his head, his eyes burning into the side of your face.

He stares for a while, having no response to your repeated lie to him. After a few minutes of simply watching you text back and forth with someone, Choso scoffs and tears his eyes off you.

He pulls out his phone and tries to distract himself from you and whoever's got your attention but it's no use. Scrolling through social media is impossible to focus on when all he hears is the annoyed sounds you keep letting out and the way you dryly laugh in anger at something.

The male doesn't even know why he's so hyper-focused on you like this. More than usual, Choso finds himself picking up on every little thing about you.

There's even this feeling he gets in his chest when he sees your attention elsewhere. He wonders if it's jealousy but it couldn't possibly be that when the two of you aren't in a relationship.

Reluctantly, his eyes find their way back to you again. His vision fixates on your hands, attentively watching each letter you tap on the screen.

Choso's able to put together the words you're typing out just from watching your fingers alone, gathering the message you typed that reads; 'Don't give me that bullshit about just wanting to check up on me. I already told you not to text me like this unless it's about the-' Your fingers had stopped moving.

Both of your eyes went wide as you received a sudden call, cutting off your rant. Choso doesn't mean to be nosy like this and it's almost instinctive the way his eyes search for who's calling you, only for that curious gaze of his to be obstructed by you quickly turning your phone off and dropping the device.

A deep groan leaves your lips as your phone slips slightly in between your thighs. You let it vibrate against your skin, completely ignoring Gojo's call.

You then look over at Choso and his eyes fly up to your face.

It's awkward the way you two stare at one another. He's wondering if he seems far too nosy having been all up in your phone and you're worried that he may have seen the messages you've typed and who just called you.

"Are you uh... not gonna pick that up?" Choso questions. Evident in his tone is this carefulness, as if his words were walking on eggshells.

"No." You answer curtly, "I'm actually about to block him."

"Him?" Choso repeats thoughtlessly.

The two of you freeze.

Choso didn't mean to let that slip. His bottom lip draws into his mouth in regret, having wanted to avoid feeling jealous over nothing. In his mind, he has no reason to exhibit such emotions when you're not his girlfriend-- a fact he constantly has to repeat to himself.

The male looks away from you after saying that, visibly letting his thoughts take over his words.

"Yes Choso, him." You reply, your tone cold.

You don't want to take your frustrations out on your crush but then again, the last thing you have time for is jealousy.

Your frosty gaze peers into the side of his face as he avoids looking at you after slipping up like that.

He figures he's already let one question loose so why not continue expressing himself? "Mind if I ask who's 'him'?" Choso questions.

Your brows push together and you open your mouth to reply but after a second of thought, your mouth shuts. You'd nearly said something out of aggravation and you had to hold your tongue to prevent any negative vibes between you and Choso.

With a sigh, you look away from the man. "Do you remember the asshole I told you about weeks ago?" You ask, tone soft but still holding your stress.

Of course he remembers, how could he not? You told him about said asshole during your first phone call with him, an event in which Choso could never forget.

"The one that made you cry?" Choso asks for confirmation, his voice dry as he recalls the unnamed man you always refer to as an asshole.

You hum, "Yeah, him."

Choso steadily looks over to you, his eyes sinking down to the buzzing phone in your lap, "I see." He replies. He then lifts his eyes to your face that's turned away from him, "Still don't like him, huh?"

"I told you before, I hate him." You explain.

"Then why're you just now about to block him?" Choso questions, his tone growing more dull.

You scoff, "I'm not in the best position to where I can actually block him."

"Why not?"

"Because there are things he and I still have to work out." You explain vaguely.

Choso blinks, his eyes darkening as his mood dips into something annoyed. "Is he an ex of yours or something?" The man asks you.

You turn your head to Choso with pinched brows and a scrunched-up face, "What? No."

"Mhm, right okay so, what do you still have to work out with him that prevents you from blocking him?"

You sigh heavily and flash a clearly annoyed smile, "Choso, while I appreciate your concern for me, I really don't feel like explaining right now."

Your crush grits his teeth and visibly bites back a response to that. There's a mix of genuine care and jealousy brimming inside him.

"Right. My bad," Choso resorts to sympathy. "Just know, if you need advice, I'm right here." He says with an emphasizing scoff.

For the first time since you've met him, Choso is aggravated. You're unsure of why he's upset when you have the right to be private about the context of a man who's upsetting you.

You're not obligated to explain anything to Choso. He knows that.

Though, that's not why he's upset. As he turns his head away from you and looks out his window in thought, Choso feels displeased at how some guy has you angered and the way you won't open up to him.

There's this need you feel within you to calm Choso down so, almost instinctively, you reach a hand over to his side and place it on his thigh-- watching the way his body stills under your touch.

Choso glances down at your hand and raises a brow.

You swallow, "I know you're right here and I know you can give me advice but..." Your hand slips upward along his leg in a comforting manner, "This isn't something you can help me with."

The sound of him clearing his throat as you touch him is heard. Choso rolls his hips a little, trying to comfort himself under your touch while your hand trails up.

"How uh... How do you know?" Choso hums, just barely taking his gaze away from your moving hand.

Your eyes meet his, "Cause' it's uhm... it's personal." You explain, grinning slightly.

You then lift your hand from his leg, to which he sighs, and grab a light hold of his chin. Your thumb rubs over his smooth skin and Choso just melts into your touch.

"Oh," He says, nodding slightly, "I get it..."

"Yeah, sorry-"

"Oi," Choso cuts off as he raises his hand to yours. His eyes are serious while he shifts to kiss your palm, "What'd I tell you about that?"

You chuckle, "About what? Apologizing?"

"Mhm. There's nothing for you to be sorry about." He tells you, "I get it, it's personal."

"It's a habit," You explain simply, nearly apologizing again.

"I've noticed."

A smile spreads across your face, your mood lifting, "Have you?"

"Course' I have," Choso says.

He then moves your hand, placing it back down on his thigh with his own resting on top. His fingers gently caress your smaller ones, eyes dropping down to the sight and his expression relaxing as he does so.

The tension in the car begins to dissipate as you and Choso find solace in one another's touch. The weight of the situation lifts and you feel a little less uneasy.

The warmth of Choso's hand on yours is comforting, providing you with a moment of relaxation. He never fails to change your mood.

Choso looks up to your face, "I notice everything about you, y'know."

Your smile widens, "Do you?"

"Yeah. I try to remember as much as I can." He tells you.

You raise a brow, "Why?"

"I don't call you my muse for no reason." Choso claims, "When I say that, I mean it artistically too."

Too, you repeat mentally. He's confirming that calling you his muse has always been meant in a romantic sense previously.

"Really? So do you have more paintings of me hidden somewhere or something?" You ask jokingly.

He laughs slightly, almost as if there may be some truth to what you just said. "Somethin' like that, yeah."

"Wait seriously?" You ask, your face brightening up at the thought.

"Yes. I find myself accidentally drawing your face quite often." Choso hums, looking back down to your connected hands as the tips of his ears redden.

You lean closer to him slightly, "Aw really??"

He clears his throat, "Yes, really. Do you uh... You wanna see?"

"Of course I do!" You beam.

He can't help but stammer as your excited expression is revealed to him. The way seeing you happy has him melting immediately is almost embarrassing.

Chuckling slightly, Choso nods his head to his bag on the floor in between your legs, "I have a sketchbook in there you can look through."

You don't hesitate to move for the item, quickly removing your hand from his thigh and diving it down to the bag on the floor. You unzip it and rapidly spot the book he's referring to, taking hold of the item and pulling it out.

As you do so, your phone keeps buzzing in your lap but every notification is ignored.

With a smile on your face, you hastily open the sketchbook and the first drawing you see is a picture of someone that makes your smile flicker. It's difficult to control your facial expression when the first image shown to you looks like a younger version of Sukuna without face tattoos.

You bat your eyelashes at it and open your mouth to say something but Choso makes up for your confusion by speaking first, "That's my little brother," He explains.

"Yuji, right?" You ask in return, having remembered the name from a previous conversation with Choso.

Any chance he's gotten to talk to you about his brothers, he's taken. Well, with an exception for Sukuna. The only reason you know they're related is because of Gojo, which concerns you since Choso always finds a way to talk about his siblings to you.

A big smile spreads across Choso's face, "Yeah, you remember his name?"

"Yep." You reply proudly, "And your other brother's names are Kechizu and Eso, right?"

Oh, the man's heart is simply fluttering at the fact that you remember his brothers' names. "Y-Yeah." Choso stammers, flashing you a gushing smile.

You flip to the next page of the sketchbook and see two more drawings of Yuji but at different angles. "I think I know who your favorite is..." You say teasingly.

Choso chuckles, "I don't have a favorite."

"These drawings say otherwise..." You hum as you continue to flip through the next few pages.

Other images of Yuji and Choso's other siblings appear and you can't help but smile at each one. Eventually, you get to a page where the drawings go from portraits to anatomy; more specifically, hands.

You notice that each hand seems to be his own, all in different positions and angles. Your eyes skim page after page until you come across a set of hands that appear more feminine than the rest.

A narrowed gaze inspects the paper a bit closer and you can't help but notice how the hands on the page resemble your own.

"Cho..." You call out, glancing over to the man, "Are these my hands?"

There's a light shade of pink on his face but his eyes are down on the sketchbook you're holding. "Mhm." Choso hums quietly.

His timidness makes you smile before you continue. Steadily, the focus of his sketches transitions back to portraits and you soon come across a drawing of you. You can't help but cheese at the sketch-- Choso draws your features so beautifully.

The male leans toward you a little, "Like it?" He asks.

Your smile doesn't waver for even a second, "Like it? Choso, I love the way you draw me."

Choso finds himself smiling at you, his heart simply pounding in his chest. "R-Really? Wow, thanks...? I'm happy you like it so much."

"Love, Choso," You correct, turning to look at him, "I love it."

He holds eye contact with you but his face goes red as you utter those words to him, "They're uh, they're not even that good though..."

"They are to me." You argue, looking back down to the page, "I look so pretty in your eyes."

"You're pretty in everyone's eyes, princess." Choso complements.

You chuckle, "That's cute but no, I'm not. Thank you though, I think you capture my face better than my phone, honestly."

"I disagree," Choso says.

You look at him. "Why?"

"Cause' I could illustrate your face a thousand times over but..." His gaze softens as he thinks for a second, "Something always feels like it's missing."

Your brows raise a little, "Like what?"

"I dunno, you? It's like they look like you but they don't feel like you and I'm struggling to express that feeling on paper." He explains, "Which is why I ended up choosing graphic design and not fine arts, I'd be losing my mind if my career was based on this..."

You laugh at him, "Yeah, I get it."

After which, you start flipping through page after page again, beginning to see what the man meant when he said he draws you often. You're pretty sure you've seen yourself with almost every facial expression and every angle by the time you reach the end of the sketchbook.

"Seems like you express the feeling of me just fine on paper," You point out, "Well, at least to me."

"Nah," Choso denies, raising his hand to your chin and forcing you to face him. His eyes scan your face, "Every drawing in there is missing something."

"If you say so," You chuckle.

The male pulls you toward him, weighing himself to you at the same time as his thumb moves to outline your mouth, "For example; your lips." Choso sighs.

You blink, "They looked fine to me."

He shakes his head, "When I draw them, they lack warmth."

"I mean... they're sketches Choso, I'm not sure how-"

"Your eyes," Choso unintentionally cuts off, still tracing your lips, "When I draw them, it feels like you're actually looking at me."

A snicker leaves you, "So are you supposed to feel me kissing you when you draw my lips?" You ask in a joking manner.

Choso smiles, "I wish but no, that's not what I'm trying to feel." He then shrugs, "I just want to draw how looking at your lips makes me feel."

"I'm not sure I understand, Cho." You sigh.

"Every time I look at your lips, I wanna kiss you. Every time I look into your eyes, I feel... vulnerable. In my sketches, I feel that same vulnerability as when I draw your eyes but then I feel nothing when I draw your lips," Choso explains in full.

"I see..."

"That's why I said they lack warmth. The sketches don't feel like you."

You nod understandingly, "I get what you mean now."

"Mhm. And y'know I think it's because I study your eyes more than your lips," Choso continues, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down. He then licks his lips, "Maybe if we made out more I'd be able to draw your lips better."

Your eyes widen for a moment, then you start laughing. "Choso, you did not just use your art as an excuse to kiss me."

He gives you a toothy smile, "Oh no, I definitely did."

You commend him for his excuse by leaning in toward him and tilting your head, slowly connecting your lips with his. Choso struggles to control his smile whilst you kiss him and his hands steadily go to your cheeks, cupping your face in his palms.

It's now you struggling not to smile as both of you kiss each other passionately.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

You wished every day could've stayed like that.

Such a time of bliss was something you'd been longing for amid your stressful troubles. To stay in Choso's arms for hours on end was something you'd plead for if it meant you could feel happy for some time.

Of course, all good things must come to an unfortunate end. And in your case, it wasn't an end but more of a... pause.

About one more week was the most you got to enjoy happiness with Choso. From your point of view, you could just not tell Gojo that you'd already slept with Choso, which prolonged the unlimited time you have for the list.

And it was wonderful not having to move on from Choso but, it did lead to a stronger attachment growing between the two of you.

It happened on a Friday afternoon. Something you stupidly didn't think about. A question you hadn't had an answer to, which led you down a path of regrettable decisions.

It was all fine at first. Shoko wasn't home, like always, and Choso was resting his head comfortably on your chest. His body lay slightly on top of yours and his arms were wrapped around you comfortably.

The two of you were watching TV together, almost like a couple in love. Whenever you laughed at something on the screen, Choso would smile at the sound and snuggle the side of his face into you.

At some point, an emotional scene came up on the TV and the words made the man on top of you begin to think. There was a couple arguing in the show about their relationship going public or something and damn the way it made Choso wonder.

For you, it was unexpected. The man shifted slightly, taking his eyes off the TV and looking around your room in thought.

After a moment, Choso spoke. "Hey, can I ask you something?" He requests.

Your eyebrows raise slightly as you look down at the man lying on you, "Depends," You tease, "What kinda' question is it?"

He chuckles, lightly but nervously. "It's uhm..." He moves around to glance up at you for only a few seconds, then he looks off to the side. "It's about us."

You bat your eyelashes at him and your heart freezes in your chest, "A-About us?"

"Mhm." He hums.

"Alright," You swallow, "What about us?"

Choso goes quiet. It's clear he's debating something, his eyes trail over to your face once more, and those sangria-colored eyes of his fill with uncertainty.

You return a curious stare to him before raising your hand to his face. Your thumb gently skims across the tattoo running along the bridge of his nose. Choso's hair is loose, dark strands messily flowing down and just barely reaching his shoulders.

Your small touch to his face provides him with this sudden sense of comfort, making him grin. "What is it, Cho?" You ask, your voice soft.

"What uh... No, I..." He trails off as he tries to find the right way to word his question. Choso swallows hard and shuts his eyes, "Okay. Do you like me?"

You chuckle at his sudden question, "I thought I made it pretty obvious..."

He sighs, "I'm being serious. Like, do you have feelings for me?"

"Uhm," You chew on your lower lip in thought.

Choso's eyes open and he takes in your expression, "Be honest with me, princess."

You smile, "Why are you asking me this all of a sudden?"

"Cause' I have feelings for you," Choso admits bluntly.

Your eyes go wide as if you didn't already know that. "O-Oh." You chirp.

"So," He sighs again, feeling as your thumb continues the gentle trace over his tattoo, "I wanted to know if you feel the same."

"I do," You whisper, seeing no way of avoiding this conversation.

Choso nods, "Yeah, I know." He then chuckles, "I just wanted to hear you say it."

You pout, "This isn't how I planned on confessing..."

"Welcome to my world," Choso hums teasingly. "Anyways, that wasn't my main question..."

"Oh?" Anxiety returns to your nerves again.

He stares up into your eyes, "See, I uh, I like what we have going on right now, I think..."

"You think?"

"Yeah, I like spending time with you, I like laughing with you, smiling with you..." His voice lowers and he glances off to the side, "I like fucking you," He murmurs softly before looking at you again, "I like it all, honestly."

"Okay... Where are you going with this Cho?" You question, your eyes narrowing a little.

He swallows, "Well... Do you like what we have going on?"

You're quick to nod, "Of course."

"Right so..." Choso bites his lower lip for a second, then releases it, "Is this all you want?"

You blink. "What uh... What do you mean?"

"I mean," The man shifts, pulling his face from your touch and propping himself up over you with his elbows, "There's no... label on us."

"Okay..." You trail off, worried about where this is going.

Choso sighs heavily, "How long are we going to be like this?"

"I-I don't know..."

"Don't you want to be something more?" Choso questions.

"I do," You hum, "But..."

His brows furrow and he tilts his head slightly, "But what?"

"Not..." Your voice lowers and you look away from him, "Not right now..."

He blinks, "Okay, but... can I know why?"

You shrug sheepishly, "I like what we have right now."

"I do too," Choso claims. "But, I'd also like it if we were... y'know..."

"If we were what?" You ask.

"Together." He answers straightforwardly.

Ah, here's what Gojo warned you about.

You chuckle slightly to try and ease the growing tension, "We are-"

"Officially." The man cuts off.

You look at him with pleading eyes, "Choso, we-"

"Publically." He cuts off again, his expression full of seriousness.

"So, what, you wanna date?" You ask.

Choso blinks, "Yes."

Your heart starts caving in. "T-This is an interesting way to ask me out, y'know..." You tease, again trying to ease the tension.

It's no use though, Choso's not in the mood to joke about this topic. He voices out your name in a low tone, making your body freeze beneath him.

"I'm not joking." Choso tells you, his eyes intimidating, "I wanna be yours."

Fuck, those words almost made you smile. Under any other predicament, you'd say yes in a heartbeat. But, you can't date Choso and finish the list at the same time.

You swallow hard and look away from him nervously, "Ch-Choso, I-"

"And I want people to know that I'm yours," He expresses. "Yes, I like what we have now but the unknown of it all... it bothers me."

"Unknown? Choso, we know what we have-"

"Do we?" He scoffs.

Your brows pinch together, "Yes?"

"I don't." He claims, "I mean, there's no title to it. I just can't help but wonder... What..." He sighs heavily and shuts his eyes again, "This is so cliche but, what are we?"

And there it was. The question you struggle to answer. It's a damn good question because, honestly, what are you two??

Choso lifts himself up some more before sitting up, "Are we fuck-buddies? Is that what this is?"

"N-No, we're-"

"Is this some kinda' situationship?" Choso asks further with a scoff, he seems upset now. "Cause' y'know, I'm just really confused. We hang out like friends one day, fuck like lovers another, and then..." He trails off, shrugging instead as he doesn't know what to say.

You move to sit up too. "I... Choso, I didn't realize you wanted to put a title on this..."

He narrows his eyes at you, "I didn't... at first. But then I found myself feeling weird when people stare at you whenever we go out or annoyed when your attention is elsewhere a-and... I can't say anything about this weird feeling because we're not in a relationship so..." Choso explains.

"Feeling weird? You mean jealousy??" You question further.

"Yes. That's exactly what it is, jealousy. I get jealous because of a lot of things and there's nothing I can do about it because we're just..." He pauses, then shrugs annoyed. "I don't even know."

You take a deep breath and keep your voice gentle, "So that's why you're upset, because you get jealous over things when you feel like we shouldn't and because you don't know what we are?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Choso tells you.

"Okay so-"

"Do you want me?" Choso cuts off, the question pouring out of him faster than he intends.

Your voice gets caught in your throat, "I... Of course-"

Choso moves again, his hands placed at the sides of your legs and his face coming closer to yours, "Then have me." He whispers passionately, "If you want me, have me.”

"I can't..." You murmur.

His gaze switches focus back and forth between your left and right eye, "But you can." He argues, moving to take one of your hands and hold it against his chest, "I'm all yours, I just need you to claim me."

You frown at the needs prodding at your insides. You want nothing more than to do such a thing but you can't.

Choso inches his face closer, his head tipping to the side and his lips nearing yours, "Tell me I'm yours," He whispers, now moving your hand to his cheek, "Let me be your boyfriend."

You inhale heavily, your breath shaking as you do so. "Choso..."

"Yes, princess?"

"I... I can't." You tell him regrettably.

Choso grits his teeth before turning his face to kiss your palm, "Why?" He whispers, "Tell me why we can't be together?"

Your heart throbs in your chest as you come up with the only excuse you can, "I can't do a relationship right now."

A moment of silence envelopes the two of you as Choso sighs into your hand with his eyes shut. He then pulls away slightly for just a second to shake his head in disbelief before planting a kiss on your palm.

"Right..." Choso mumbles into you, "Okay."

He then releases your hand carefully and turns his face to yours. You both meet eyes and he can see all forms of sadness within your gaze. Choso feels his heart waning at the sight.

Slowly, the man shuts his eyes and kisses you. You're not sure why he does it but you definitely don't fight it, kissing him back tenderly.

Choso parts from your lips slightly and whispers against your skin, "Whenever you're ready," He begins, causing you to frown immediately.

"Ch-Choso please-"

"You can call me," He continues, "I'll be there for you in a heartbeat."

You feel as though you're about to cry, "Are you... leaving me?" You whisper.

He nods, "I'm sorry."

Your hands go to his face again, cupping his cheeks in your hold as if to convince him not to, "Choso please, I just..."

His hands move to your wrists and he gives you a soft squeeze, "I can't do uncertainty so," Choso gives you one last peck on the lips, "I gotta go."

Another kiss is placed upon your lips and you try to push yourself further into it so that the connection never ends. Choso's heart feels heavy as his lips pry from yours.

With one final look into your eyes and a somber grin, Choso pulls your hands off his face. He then releases your wrists and moves to get off your bed.

You quietly watch him grab his stuff and move toward your bedroom door.

He then turns back to look at you one last time, "When you're ready for a relationship, I promise I'll be here."

You release a shaky sigh, "Please don't leave."

He frowns, "I can't stay."

"Choso..."

"I'm sorry, baby." He apologizes gently.

You bite your bottom lip, holding back the tears that threaten to pour out of your eyes.

With one last gaze and sigh, Choso tears his eyes off you and walks out.

And there you're left; alone.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

??? NAOYA ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[mmani-e]

Hello! After all this effort, behold:

DANGANRONPA DEMIX, THH EDITION!

Dr Demix 2

Finally got the talentswap designs I have for the THH characters one and done with! You can click through the read more section for some fun design insights. I'm intending on uploading a doc containing short lore bits about them eventually.

Kyoko Kirigiri - Ultimate Affluent Progeny

So Kyoko's design was both kinda simple, kinda not, wanted to give her a very fine and regal kinda attitude to her but not arrogant as that's very much Byakuya's thing. Her story is that she loves her dad more than the family business and her grandpa so she abandons detective work and just uses her brain to help her dad out.

Makoto Naegi - Ultimate Novelist

Makoto is a wonderful guy, just great all around. He loves writing children's books and happy stories. This is his main coping mechanism so he doesn't have to process any negative emotions he gets, the rest he can't process… well they go into a murderous psychopath alter.

Aoi Asahina - Ultimate Lucky Student

Shoujo protagonist Aoi. Cute, headstrong, affective, competitive, these are all the traits that make her fight for her friends and clash with Kyoko (and more often than not Byakuya) in the killing game, even when all hope seems lost… she pushes through, unafraid to let tears spill from her eyes for all those lost, but pushing all the same.

Byakuya Togami - Ultimate Detective

This one, I wanna go into more lore territory, cause I kinda memed around his last desc I gave him so here goes:

"A disgraced heir of the Togami household, Byakuya lost the competition that would've secured his riches. Disdainful and bitter, he sought out to get to the bottom of why he lost, uncovering a rabbit hole in the process. By the end, he proved his sibling a cheater, but it didn't matter because by the end as he found the sweet satisfaction of uncovering secrets and crushing liars and cheaters under the weight of their hubris far more satisfying than any inheritance."

Sayaka Maizono - Ultimate Spirit Medium

So Sayaka isn't a clairvoyant at all like Yasuhiro, in fact her entire skillset is completely different, first of all she is like an actual psychic, and I based her design off of the japanese Itako, quite loosely. Very interesting group, look it up, also she'll never use these powers in the killing game because I dunno how to even approach these rituals or what they look like or how to write them while remaining respectful, so she won't do it in a killing game for the express reason of her not having the right tools available and not wanting to disrespect her traditions.

Leon Kuwata - Ultimate Swimmer

I really wanna draw him again, all these characters again tbh, and I wanna show off the patterns on his wetsuit. It's a whole coral reef under there, that anemone and clownfish bit is only one part of a whole reef stretching his midline.

Sakura Ogami - Ultimate Programmer

Sakura has installed chips into her body to help optimize her body processes and also cause why not. As for the muscles, she's an Assembly programmer, the programs she's made can run on calculators she loves it.

Chihiro Fujisaki - Ultimate Martial Artist

Chihiro's design here with the two belts is an explicit nod to his preferred martial art - Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, so unlike Sakura in canon who'd be easy to imagine cracking someone's skull in half with a chop, Chihiro's approach is more crawling onto someone and bringing them down to the floor with grappling like an angry halfling monk. As for the belts themselves, on his head is his final junior belt, while around his waist is his current belt, he's not a black belt yet because he's still too young for it.

Celestia Ludenberg - Ultimate Baseball Star

Celestia actually isn't a legend in this AU, Taeko is. Celestia hates that and wants to start a baseball career going international, whatever the hell that means is up to her own definition, but she wants to be remembered forever as Celestia, not Taeko. Also extra sentence, but this is the SINGLE hardest design I've ever had to deal with here, I think in the future I'll be drawing all her little accessories and I have an alt costume for her I have in mind.

Hifumi Yamada - Ultimate Pop Star

So I changed Hifumi's story as I originally outlined in the OG post with him. He was friends with Aoi all his life, pretty much his only friend at all, and ever since he was little he had an obsession with writing songs, because he was obsessed with stuff like anime openings and was content to just keep the songs to himself. It wasn't till Aoi convinced him to share some of his songs that he started his journey to success, but bc he's not traditionally attractive, his first hits were literally just… his voice being played over other more attractive singers and it wasn't until very very recently that he even performed a song of his for the first time.

Toko Fukawa - Ultimate Fanfic Writer

So while Hifumi was clearly a Doujinshi but due to weird translation, ended up as fanfic creator, Touko is straight up a FF then Wattpad then AO3 girl, who would get obsessed with this really shitty, tripe manga that she didn't even like reading. It did however have super hot dudes in it, so she wrote good stories of those characters when she got frustrated with the actual authorial content - which was always.

Yasuhiro Hagakure - Ultimate Gambler

Quite LITERALLY the never stop gambling meme personified into a guy. He can lose 3 mil on slot machines but always comes out fine because it means if he keeps gambling he'll eventually run into his 1/3 and win giga millions, what he needs to pay off his debts. It isn't just with luck though either because his personality and lack of intelligence or understanding of most the rules of the games he plays means he'll never react the way he should when getting a good hand in poker or a bad draw in blackjack, so he wins those games almost always through just… stupidity.

Mukuro Ikusaba - Ultimate Biker

She's number 16 in her gang, and is easily the most loyal enforcer and taskman of the gang. She does anything she's told, to a grim and disciplined degree not typical for hooligan bike gangers, she doesn't really desire a seat as top dog of the gang though, after all she's got school to worry about, and her sister.

Mondo Owada - Ultimate Warlord

So his relationship and Kiyotaka's is gonna be interesting, because I don't want him to be exactly like Mukuro at all, who was just sort of an all-obsessed Yandere. It's more like he's always chafing under Taka, who is less than friendly with him in this AU, really the main way he even lets Taka boss him around is because he pays incredibly well and helps keep his gang members from devolving back into the unstructured, chaotic criminal life, the same that took his brother years ago.

Oh and yeah, he still looks like Guile, as he should.

Sparkling Justice - Ultimate Killer Killer

Yeah it's a reference to Killer Killer, sue me I love the manga. He has Hajirahara's ahoge, and I thought it'd be cute to also give him a mask just like the other Makoto from a Kodaka game series (Raincode.) Also, while Genocide jack stuffs all her scissors in her skirt, Makoto keeps a truth gun with "truth bullets" as his main weapon, the gun he stores inside the big book in the chibi of just Makoto, and the bullets kept on his person as the red buttons all over his body, which he pulls out when he needs to reload.

"Kiyotaka Ishimaru" - Ultimate Fashionista

Unlike Mukuro and Junko, Mondo absolutely cannot hide the fact that he acts nothing like Kiyotaka, though this is surprisingly fine to everyone else, because unlike Junko who plastered herself onto literally everything, Mondo always obfuscated himself from the public spotlight, at most showing only his suits while he hid his face behind something conveniently placed. Which played primarily to his vision of an ultimate fashionista, who was above everyone and catered to the rich and powerful.

Junko Enoshima - Ultimate Moral Compass

This was a fun one, I decided to let her have her red hair because I believe it to be the "natural" look of her hair, while attaching little clips of dyed hair to her buns as a replacement to keep her shape sorta and keep the strawberry blonde somwehere on her. Understand that while she is the "moral compass" she is still pretty deranged, and the only reason she focuses so much on keeping everyone on their best behavior is because it's endlessly entertaining to her to make her fellow moral committee members upset when she blatantly makes a mockery of the rules while still keeping kids on their best behavior to make a point.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru - Ultimate Fashionista and Tyrant, the Iron Hand of Despair

Taka's design I wanted to sort of focus on this sort of, holier-than-thou idea, where I wanted to make him look a lot fancier and upper-class than Junko does in his standard highschool fit compared to him. I wanted him to have an upper-crust sort of look

If you're reading this after reading this all, thanks! You're a wonderful person :) Signing off...

Mani

[obssessivethorn]

More Yuu Headcanons

Here are some more TWST headcanons of our favorite little shrimpy prefect that I pulled from the depths of my mind which needed to be freed. This mainly builds off of my first Yuu hc, so take a look at that if you'd like!

[Yuu Makes Constant References No One Else Gets]

[Masterlist]

Yuu humming/singing Two of Hearts if they’re in a relationship w/ Ace or just hanging out with him as a friend

Yuu refers to the cast as handsome as a casual fact and is surprised when most of them are confused/surprised/flustered by this 

“What? The guys in this school are handsome. That’s kinda just a fact.” 

Yuu being nostalgic on their Birthday 

Deuce: “I bet your family’s celebrating your birthday even if you’re not there.”

Yuu: (hopeful) “yeah. Or, who knows, this could be a whole Narnia situation and no time has passed there at all.”

Ace: “Narnia?”

Yuu: (somber) “oh, just some popular story back home. Maybe I’ll tell you guys some time.”

Ace and Deuce always wanting to hear about stories from Yuu’s home world but being too scared that it will make them sad 

Fem!Yuu being really excited to meet Deuce’s mom because they’ve been surrounded by  only guys at an all boys school for months 

Bonus: Dylla absolutely adores fem!Yuu and is more than willing to help fashion some more feminine clothing for Yuu if they ever wanted.

Bonus +1: fem!Yuu wanting to meet the cast’s moms and sisters whenever the boys mention them.

Bonus +2: All the boys’ families just accepting Yuu as their child regardless of whether they’ve met or not simply because of how often the boys talk about them 

Yuu getting really giddy and excited when they’re able to travel to a new place in twisted wonderland other than Sage’s Island (i.e. cast’s hometowns, etc.)

Yuu asking Crewel for help whenever/if they want to dye their hair 

Based on a voiceline, Crewel canonically bleaches half his hair white and maintains that to keep with his style (the dedication of that man is inspiring)

The moment Yuu realizes they’ve fallen too far down the rabbit hole and are now attached to everyone in twisted wonderland, meaning their leaving will hurt more and more with each passing day. 

The feeling of being incredibly torn between their previous life they were forced to abandon, years of work they had put in to reach the goals they wanted to accomplish, and the new friends, experiences, and opportunities before them in this new world. So they push the feeling down further with each day. Force themself to ignore the inevitable. 

They don’t want to think about the idea of who will take care of Grim when they’re gone? Or how Ace will get his assignments done if they’re not there to force him to do it. Or or who will calm deuce down enough before he gets into a fight and ruins his goal of being a perfect honor student? 

Who will be there if someone else overblots?

This one I kinda stole from Private Thoughts of a Moray Eel by @mochinomnoms, but I love the idea of Yuu, Ace, and Deuce being so close and completely comfortable with each other. I mean, they’ve gone through literal life or death situations together from the start, so it makes sense that they would be closer than most. 

But not just the closeness we see in game with them being a main friend group who always hangs out. But close physically, in the sense that there are few boundaries left between the three. 

For a few examples, I like the idea that the three will commonly be seen cuddling together or leaning on one another when they’re lounging in the courtyard or around Heartslabyul/Ramshackle. 

Ace often times has his arm around the shoulders of Yuu or Deuce. Sometimes leaning in to whisper something stupid or gossipy in their ear. 

Yuu has taken to giving the Adeuce duo kisses on their foreheads and cheeks as thanks or as a goodbye when they head back to Ramshackle with Grim. 

Deuce grew a habit of holding Yuu or Ace’s hand when he gets ticked off by some oaf he wants to punch. The two will respond by giving his hand a squeeze or rubbing a comforting thumb across the back of his hand. It’s a silent thing, no one outright acknowledges it, because it’s become such a common practice for the three. 

Another habit Deuce has developed is that he’ll face-plant directly into the lap of whoever is sitting down after a long day. The first time he did it, it was Yuu’s lap and it spooked them so much they accidentally threw their phone at Ace’s face. Deuce felt horrible after that, but after some reassurance, he started doing it more often. Albet, making sure the landing was softer than the first time. 

In response to Deuce planting his face on their thighs, Ace and Yuu both took to immediately playing with his hair and massaging his scalp with their free hand. 

Yuu’s way of asking for comfort when they're stressed or scared (which they will always refuse to admit, they swear, they just need them as a human shield! It’s just for defense!) is by hugging one of the two around their torso and ducking their head into the crook of their neck to hide their face. Most times, the hug from the back so whoever they’re hugging can’t see what they’re feeling. But they of course still love hugging from the front because the two will always respond by immediately wrapping their arms around Yuu and rubbing their back. 

Because of this slightly abnormal friendship, (I failed to describe the abnormal part here but I can always write more) there have of course been some rumors started about them being in a romantic relationship. Are they polygamous? Are Ace and Deuce fighting over Yuu in an epic and dramatic love triangle? Is Yuu playing both of the boys? Are there hidden feelings between the three they all refuse to talk about? 

While most of the school and some of their friends wonder this, the trio completely ignores it. As if the rumors don’t exist at all. When asked about their relationship or if anything being said is true, all three of them look at each other, shrug, and say completely different things. 

Jack: So, are you guys in a relationship?  Epel: Yeah, you’re all awfully close for just friends.  Sebek: Please, the details of their relationship have nothing to do with us! But if you three are romantically involved in a relationship with each other then I will support you entirely as long as it does not affect my lord.  Ortho: Well, let’s hear them out first, are you three dating each other?  Ace, Deuce, and Yuu: *tangled in a cuddle pile on Ramshackle’s couch with Grim asleep on the arm of the couch next to them* [simultaneously] Ace: Maybe. Deuce: No? why? Yuu: Only on Tuesdays. 

The main part taken from Private Thoughts of a Moray Eel is the idea where Ace and Yuu visit Deuce’s home one summer and Deuce’s mom Dylla immediately believes the three are an adorable couple. 

Regardless of whether they are, aren’t, or are secretly pining, Dylla would decide in that moment that she had two new children she would die for. (Whether through adoption or as an in-law, should secretly hopes she can have Yuu as her child) 

AdeuceYuu is probably my favorite ship in all of Twst but this concept of them being physically affectionate and comfortable with each other transcends simply being a romantic headcanon and something I personally believe to be true as platonic and any other relationship dynamic you can imagine. Because let’s be honest, all three of them need comfort from others after going through so many overblots. And who better to comfort you than the ones who stood beside you through most of those experiences.  

Yuu being seen by the cast as a very passive and soft-spoken individual who couldn’t hurt a fly even if they tried. Only, the projected image of the protag they’ve come to accept is shattered when they witness Yuu tearing a random student a new one after said student had pushed them over the edge after a very stressful day. (Separate HC post for that concept coming soon) 

Yuu, who stood against beasts, overblots, and literal titans and gods, being too scared to ask for extra ketchup in Mostro Lounge. 

Additionally, Yuu who lives with a direbeast, being afraid of squirrels (don’t ask me why, this just feels correct, so we’re going with it)

The first idea that got me to start writing twst headcanons: Yuu having a very different way of speaking in Twisted Wonderland than they do back home. Because many of the references and slang they typically use in everyday speech doesn’t make sense to anyone but them in TW, they talk less and have a very plain way of speaking compared to most people their age. Here’s how I imagine this specific scenario goes:

When hanging out with Adeuce and Grim one day, Ace brings up (jokingly) how boring the prefect sounds when speaking. 

Yuu makes a comment about how they speak very differently from how they do back home.

This piques Ace and Deuce’s interest. 

While Deuce is more reluctant to ask, Ace begins asking questions and hounding Yuu for examples and for them to say things in ways they normally would. Deuce and Grim eventually join in on the barrage of questions. 

Finally, and a little hesitantly, Yuu decided to give them one day where they talk in the way they normally would back home. 

In this case, that means a lot of references, stupid internet jokes, and generational slang.

While the majority of it goes over the heads of Yuu’s friends, prompting more questions than it does answer, it’s still a day in which they see a whole new side of Yuu. One that’s evidently more relaxed and natural for the beloved prefect. 

It’s a confusing day for most, listening to Yuu speak as if they’ve lost their mind and started spewing nonsense, but it also became one of the highlights of the school year for the cast.

I have plenty more headcanons i can rip from the crevices of my mind, so if you would like to see more let me know! I love thinking of these silly little moments and dynamics and overall making the main character feel a little more real and personal for myself and hopefully others.

@thisisafish123 (you asked to be tagged for a part 2, not exactly sure if this counts for you but I hope you enjoy!)

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

😃Wes is swinging by to say hello to you😃

[bvnnywrites]

Still Waters Run Deep

Chapter 2: Überprüfen

PAIRING: Eldritch!König x Reader

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the very long wait. My body gave out on stress and I passed out the side of the road this Monday on my way home. Also, I was manic and I had an episode yesterday so yayeet. Also, I read all your comments in the last chapter and asvbhbvdvdhdhfhv I LOVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. THANK YOU SO MUCH RAHHHHHH. Anyways, enjoy the chapter! UwU

WARNING: NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARK, SMUT, NSFW, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Fingering, Stomach Bulge, Age Gap, Unprotected Sex, Cockwarming, Implied Discharge, Power Imbalance, Abuse of Authority, No Beta Reader, Dom! König, Size Kink, Size Difference, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Older!König, Eldritch!König, Monster!König, Masturbation, Dark Romance, Blood and Gore, Violence, Monsterfucking

THE ONLY INTERESTING THING TO DO AT KORTAC, if he wasn’t out and about in the field, was apparently dwelling in the thought of committing fraternization – and König chided himself that he was better than this.

But there’s nothing to worry about. Of course, he isn’t losing sleep overthinking the eager look on your face to get in his good graces—his approval and validation. No. he isn’t staying up late, seeing your adorable pouty lips and sweet-looking eyes glancing up at him because you’re too small whether you stood or sat. Especially, the softness of your flesh when he held your chin to make you look at him, or the warmth of your body when he soothed you from seeing those disgusting pictures.

König definitely does not want to know every detail of your life—what your flesh taste like pressed against his tongue, what it feels like as the tentacles on his face roam your body and leaving slick in its trail, what you like or hate, what blood type you have, how soft your hair is when he’s gripping it in his fingers while he’s shoving his cock deep in your little cunt, what your favorite position in bed is, what it feels like to have your pussy milking him desperately as he breeds you again and again until you’re pregnant with his children.

No.

No.

Who the hell was he kidding?

He’s is a fucking pervert—the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

What he’s doing is fucking disgusting and he can’t believe that he’s thinking this way about you. God, König knows he’s a thousand shades of fucked up, but he did not expect to be like this. The colonel never expected he’d go this fucking low. He doesn’t want to be like he’s father—a disgusting fucker who was selfish and sick in the head—but he can’t help but fall straight down the rabbit hole and into the maws of the abyss of his own wicked desires.

König is a fucking disgusting creep because you’re so sweet, calm and understanding when he threw the first few layers of ugliness from his soul, dumping it on your lap, and you so graciously comforted him. He is disgusting because you’re literally twenty-three years younger than him, old enough to be his daughter, and yet your eagerness to obtain his approval has him losing his shit. You have him losing his morals. The softness of your skin has him wanting more, his teeth clenched with poorly contained desire, and yet he demands more – to be closer, to reach into the depths of your soul and twist it until you’re as fucked up as he is—craving him the way he craves you. You have him understanding why his father did what he did because now he thinks that maybe the sick fuck couldn’t control himself in the presence of his ‘Aphrodite’.

And you… you were König’s ‘Aphrodite’—the embodiment of his desires, both good and bad.

He is a fucking pervert because you were eager to help him in this manhunt for the so-called beast. Eager and desperate to advance in the ranks of the military – that’s all you were probably hoping, but instead of following the logical side, König had let himself be swayed by the waves of his depravity.

König was always proud of his self-control – his more human nature that he had inherited from his beloved mother. He never thought the day would come where these sickening thoughts would run in his mind. He was a monster, yes, but nature does have a way of being more predominant than nurture. At least, in this case. It didn’t even matter that his mother – who despised and loved him at the same time – had engrained the Lord’s teachings into his head or the holy scriptures that she would beat into his flesh.

All those teachings went to waste because at the end of the day, he was his father’s son.

He could see the disappointing and disgusted look on his mother’s face right now.

But all that washes away when his mind comforts him with the thoughts of you. The way your pretty eyes look up at him through long lashes, the way your voice addresses him has desire pumping in König’s veins. Because somehow, when it comes to you, he feels calm as he feels the need to lash out. He feels the need to bite and claw at you, marking you as his own little wife to love and to fuck. He wants to rip off his mask in front of you and make you braid his hair and weave flowers into it because you called him ‘beautiful’, wants to let one of his tentacles slither around your neck while he bites you and marks you as his. His little and eager to please mate—his beloved wife-to-be.

He can still see your pouty face, as if you’re there right in front of him. Your pretty wide eyes looking up at him—looking at him as if he wasn’t a disgusting monster—like an actual breathing person. Your scent lingers in his nose for the past two days. You smelled delicious – divine, if he’s honest. You reeked of the shower gel that you use,  and that suffocating perfume—or is it a cologne?—that you’re using to make yourself fresh. Several thoughts ran in his head, wanting nothing more than to smother you in his scent. Rubbing his smell all over you, until every single being—doesn’t matter if mortal or not—would know that you’re his.

The thought itself had his cock twitching more than it did before. It’s throbbing hard, leaking precum all over his hand as he pumps it with his fist while the other grips the sheets. Judging from your smaller form against his, you’d definitely be fucking tight, which was why he was gripping it mercilessly. The pictures of pin-up girls had long been discarded. He doesn’t need those when he has your pretty face, adorable ass, and alluring scent engraved in his mind. He’s a fucking perverted old dog… and it was all because of you.

König wants to have you on his knees before him. Relieving him of his stress by wrapping your adorable lips around the head of his dick, soft tongue lapping at the precum he’s making as if you’re a goddess and the gushing liquid was ambrosia—the very thing you needed to live.

He wants to take care of you, cradle you in his arms and pepper your face with kisses and show you how much he can just provide for you—KorTac isn’t cheap in their payments, and he is one of their best mercenaries they have, not counting the huge mess he has made that his superiors are ordering him to clean up. He was too valuable for them to lose, so they’re just asking him to wipe away the evidence and pin the blame on some poor soldier who was there at the wrong place at the right time.

König wants nothing more than to hold you close. He can’t even think about letting you fall in the grasp of another man—whether they be as old as him or young as your age, whichever you prefer—because you are fragile as you are gullible. He can tell by the way your eyes glimmer at him or the kindness that blossoms on your face whenever you cater to the soldiers under your command, acting as if you’re a mother to them. He wants you to be his. His little, beloved wife. Waiting for him in the house he’d buy for you in Hallstatt or maybe he’d catch you walking along the shoreline of the lake while you’re telling stories of yours and his love story to his unborn child that grows in your womb.

By God König wanted you more than anything.

He’s thinking of putting you on your knees, preferably on his bed so it wouldn’t make you uncomfortable in the long run, so you can be comfortable while he shoves his cock down your throat. Your pretty lips wrapped around his cock, little whines and moans vibrating from you and on to his length and muffled from how strong his thrusts are inside your tight, wet, and warm mouth.

 Your face would be messy, mascara running down your cheeks, if you had any, and lip gloss smeared and staining his cock. And König would try to be gentle, so he wouldn’t end up breaking you, but it’d be impossible when you’re so eager to please him. You’d have trouble barking out orders and speaking normally, because he knows he’d wreck your throat by the time he’s done with you.

König is fantasizing about it—having you in such a state, making use of your delicate mouth and moving tongue.

But guilt flashes across his mind. No. No, he couldn’t do that to you. You’re a fragile little thing—not to mention a human. You’re like an adorable little mouse beneath him. Breaking you would break him too—hurting you would hurt him too.

He is a worthless monster, a disgusting being that should be shot dead for just thinking of you—his klein hase—like this. That woman who read his future was right. He was depraved. He’d ruin you…

But God have mercy on him because he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to back the fuck away from you.

Your name falling from his lips like a prayer, chanting your name as if you’d be able to save him from eternal damnation – and maybe you could, in your own human way. A primal and dark urge to have you in his full mercy, waiting for him to claim you. He… He just wants to be accepted by people, to be welcomed by his peers, but none of it matters now because he just wants to be accepted by you. He’s panting and groaning, pumping his dick several times, chasing that climax. He is shamelessly hard, cock angry as it's about to burst.

König feels dirty for this. He felt like a teenage boy who’s jerking off to his crush. And despite that, he’s imagining you sucking on his cock or having your forehead pressed against his, whispering how much you love him and how you can’t wait to be filled with his cock. He imagines your cum-drunk expression, eyes glazed as your head is muddled and filled with nothing but pleasure, and that makes him cum; thick ropes of white shooting out from the tip, while his cock pulsates as he pumps it continuously before gradually slowing to a halt.

He keeps cumming, more than he usually does. The white, thick liquid staining his abdomen, pants, and sheets. He moans, biting his lips in a poor attempt to conceal his pathetic whimpers. His release covering his hand—sticky and disgustingly warm. Bless KorTac for allowing him and other high-ranking superiors to have their own room, because he knows goddamn well that he won’t be able to commit such sinful acts in communal barracks.

Post-nut clarity hits him hard, almost the same way his mother would, and he’s shameful for what he had just done. The two of you barely know each other, only getting information about you out of your files, and yet he was infatuated with you the moment you arrived on KorTac that sunny day. And yet he fell in love completely in just a matter of two days after talking with you.

He wants to resent you for what you made him do. He wants to worship you and mark your body with his marks. He wants to be left alone—preferably in your arms while you stroke his hair and look at him lovingly because no one ever looked at him the same way you do.

“Mein Gott, Shatz. What are you doing to me, liebling?”

König pants, letting his head fall back into the pillow as he sighed. His muscles relaxed, so much that he feels like he’s going to be one with the mattress. He lays there for a bit in his own bodily fluids before he got up to clean himself and get changed, replacing the sheets with cleaner ones.

“Colonel, are you there?”

Your soft voice came to his ears, making him stop in his tracks. Was he delusional to the point that he’s imagining your voice? He’s losing it. He’s definitely losing it because no way in hell did you sought him out at—he glances at his clock and sees that it’s 24:58 on a Wednesday—this late in the night. König ignores the voice, opting to throw himself back into the bed, cuddling his pillows and imagining that it’s you.

“Colonel?” Your voice echoes, followed by a soft knock. “Sir? This is very important, I’m sorry.”

Oh. Oh. No, he’s not actually hearing things. You’re actually outside his door. König wore his mask, covering his ugliness because he didn’t want to scare a pretty little thing like you. It would be too soon for you to see his face. It’d be like putting a frog straight in boiling water instead of heating it up little by little.

He rushed to fix the cloth over his head, zipping and buttoning his pants. König almost tore the bolts of his door just to immediately see you, and when he swung the door open—almost ripping it off the hinges—he saw you standing there with several dossiers in your arms. Your pretty doe-like eyes, the ones he fantasized about as he came literally just seconds ago, looks up at him with a sheepish gaze. You smile apologetically up at him, neck craning to properly look at him. He sees the way your eyes glanced at his shirtless torso before flickering up to look at him.

Were you attracted to him the same way he is to you?

Did your cunt also drip at the thought of him, the same way his cock throbs at the mere thought of you? Did you also touch yourself when you were alone the past two days after you two spoke to one another? Did you also call out his name? Whimpering and panting as you flicked your clit and plunged your tiny fingers in your weeping pussy–

“Sorry to disturb you so late at night, I was ordered to give you these documents. Horangi said that I deliver these to you because it needs your immediate approval, sir.”

You say to him, spouting out your reasons and he can see that you’re doing so in hopes of not angering him because you think you’ve disturbed his sleep. How adorable. König keeps a note to himself to tell Horangi not to let you out this late at night; he doesn’t want you being suspected as the killer. Your cheeks are slightly red, and König finds red pretty on your face. So much so that he wants to just grab your squishy cheeks and pepper it with kisses. Maybe nibble on it affectionately.

“It’s alright. No worries. Come in, Schatz.”

He moves aside, letting you in. And, oh boy, you eagerly entered his chambers as you rushed to the desk in his room. You bend over to place the heavy papers on his table, and he has half a mind to bend you over the desk, tear off your clothes, and fuck you stupid until all you can do is mewl and whine on his cock. The fact that he was imagining you on your knees, choking on his cock or pumping it with your hands while you whispered sweet nothing to him five minutes ago didn’t help the colonel either.

“I’m really sorry. I know you’re probably sleeping–”

“I said it is fine, liebling. No need to lose your head over nothing, ja?”

He finds it endearing that he calms you, that his words weigh that much for you. Usually, he’s used to barking orders, establishing things with force. And yet, when he speaks to you softly, reassuring you, that it’s alright if you waltz into his room—into his heart, even—and take whatever you wanted is a nice change of pace. He’d give more to you on your way out, because he loves you. He wants to marry you. He wants to take you back with him to Austria. You’re beautiful in gear, but König knows you’d be more beautiful in maternity dresses.

But he is sane about you. Completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing wrong with his state of mind regarding you. Everyone loves strongly, ja?

“It’s late at night, and I don’t want you to end up as a corpse in the halls, liebling. Let me escort you to your quarters, ja?” He says softly, walking up to you as he effortlessly moves the paperwork that were practically heavy for you. “It would ease me to sleep, knowing you’re safe and sound in your bed.” König pats your head.

“I… um… are you sure, sir?” You look at him, confused as you tilt your head in confusion. “You must be tired for the day, and I’ve already taken up much of your time.”

He ignored your words of worry as he grabbed his hoodie and wore it, finally giving you an ounce of mercy because as much as he loves the way your eyes are drawn to his torso, he also doesn’t want to give you cardiac arrest just because he was being too much for you.

Now that you’re here in his room, alone with the colonel, your heart hums nervously. You pray that no soldier would see you walk out of his room at this hour. Because you don’t want to burden him with silly rumors when he’s drowning in paperwork, focusing on an investigation, and you don't want to add up to his plate.

“I want to protect you from harm, Schatz. With me around, I doubt the beast would hurt you.”

Lies. No, wait. It’s not all lies, so basically just half-truths. With König around, the thing that lurks in the halls of KorTac would never hurt you, if anything it would worship the ground you walk on. Ask him to give you a town for your dowry, and he would enslave every continent on Earth and lay it by your feet—because the thing in the dark is him, and he loves you, and he wants to give you the world.

“Okay. I mean… if that’s okay with you, sir.”

“König.”

“What?”

“Please, mein liebe. I would appreciate it if we drop the formalities. We are comrades, ja?”

“Alright… as I was saying, I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to burden you, König.”

“You’re not a burden. Not to me… not if it’s you, mein liebling.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion with the way he addressed you. It sounds like German, and the way he pronounces it makes you feel important. You don’t know German, and you kick yourself mentally because you wish you knew what he was calling you. For all you know, he’s calling you stupid affectionately. Because it took you weeks before you realize Izzy was calling you ‘stupid’ in the most affectionate way possible, so who’s to say the colonel is any different?

Before you can ask him what the words mean, he walks past you, opening the door for you. You walk out his room, thankful that no one’s there to see the two of you together.

You two walk down the halls, side by side. And poor little you.t you’re practically walking alongside the devil. The halls are empty, devoid of any soul. The trip to your room was quiet, no one is around, obviously. Soldiers were already asleep, and those who didn’t need to follow the curfew were chilling in their room or buried in neck-deep paperwork in their offices.

König wished he wasn’t the monster right now. He wished it was someone else, because he wants an opportunity for him to be a hero. To be a protector. To put up all of his pent-up aggression on someone else while you praise him for his strength and bravery. Maybe shower him with loving kisses, even. He wants something to try and kill him, just so he can show you that he can protect you from anything and anyone who would want to kill you, but then you stop in front of your room, making you turn and smile at him.

He loved your smile, the way your skin stretched and your adorable features twist just to give him a kind gesture

“Well. This is my stop.” You offer him a warm smile, unaware that it’s a currency that König could never afford yet you willingly give it to him for free. “Thank you… for looking out for me, König.”

“You’re a valuable soldier. It would be a shame if the thing lurking the base comes and kills you, Shatz—I want you safe.” He smiles at you beneath the mask, and the way his eyes crinkle is adorable and you know he’s smiling when they do that. “For as long as I’m able to, I’ll protect you, okay?”

His fingers gently held your chin, afraid that he’d break you at the slightest pressure. Your heart thumps in your chest. How could Roze or Izzy ever tell you to avoid him? He was practically a sweetheart. The colonel wanted you safe more than anything, isn’t that enough to warrant an inch of friendship from you?

Your eyes met his, those eyes that remind you of a storm at sea, are filled with nothing but warmth. It makes your breath hitch with how… oddly intimate it feels. You’re sure that if you weren’t a soldier, if the two of you met outside the forces, as civilians, without the medals and badges, you’re sure that he would’ve kissed you right then and there. It felt like your heart was about to explode – it’s too overwhelming.

So, you forced yourself to look away, stepping back and away from his grasps—from his touch. The absence of his touch makes your head clear without realizing it felt hazy in the first place. Such a strange effect that the colonel has on you.

König is displeased that you’ve put more distance between you two, but he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t want to make you worry, despite the adorable look on your face whenever you do look troubled. So, König opts to pat you on the head briefly.

“Sleep tight, Schatz. Don’t forget to lock your door, ja?”

“Alright, co–König. Good night.”

As you shut your doors, the monster outside stood there for a few more minutes before it walked away.

“Did something good happen today, colonel?”

“None of your concern, major.”

Horangi was as sharp as ever, deep voice rumbling in his chest which intimidated most people around him. He was also the only one in the ranks to be able to speak casually with his superior – even though all of KorTac members usually avoid the giant soldier since they don’t really want to risk being discharged because they can’t function properly anymore. Horangi was the closest thing König has to a friend – which is kind of sad since a former gambling addict was the only one who can tolerate his shit and can understand him, even with his hood permanently on.

But Horangi was right.

Something good did happened.

You happened.

“That new lieutenant.” König starts. “If you’re sending her out to deliver files, tell me so I can escort the klein hase to her destination,” the colonel orders him, “I do not wish for her to be hurt.”

He spent the night awake, drinking and shredding it in the gym, trying so hard to put your adorable face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, he hasn’t seen you running around base for the day because he’s too busy cooped up in his office and signing off the papers that you’ve given him hours ago, but the way your facial features would get distorted into something more adorable every single time he closed his eyes was highly concerning.

And he calms himself down in those wee hours the same way he did moments before you knocked on his door—jerking himself off until he felt nothing but self-hatred and the yearning of having your soft body pressed up against his.

“She’s a lieutenant, König.” Horangi snort. “You know I don’t recruit the weak.”

“She’s a woman,” König responds, “I’m not saying she’s weak, but most soldiers in base are men… I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.”

“She can handle herself.”

“And what of the monster on the loose?”

“Why? Do you plan on eating her next?”

“… Perhaps.”

König thinks for a moment. It should be easier if he would have an official legal reason to keep you by his side. Have your desk literally in his office so he can always keep his eyes on you, make sure no one lays a finger on you. König chucks his delirious thoughts to the lack of sleep, his fingers held down the paper while he wrote with his pen, but he wished he was holding you down and fucking into your wet cunt instead. He had those things before – overthinking about the tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but understood that he can’t be with them—it could be his childhood crushes that he could never had thanks to his hideous appearance… and anxiety. It could be fantasizing about a pretty woman that caught his attention one day—imagining a life with them, multiple kids, and maybe a dog or two. König is aware that he has a problem , but not like… this; never dangerous.

The problem was that he knows he can have you.

Perhaps not in a traditional way. No. He can’t court you, that’s against the rules, and König wished nothing more that you were a civilian instead of a soldier. Because of your badge, he couldn’t be with you. He has half a mind to snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate because he knows you would never marry a monster like him, so abducting you was… reasonable. He can shower you with gifts in your captivity, decorating you with all the gold and jewel in the world while he’s fucking his child into you. He can have his men kidnap you, and yes, it is inhumane but you would be happy with him as his wife than a woman playing as a lieutenant. He would soothe your worries, fuck you every single hour with no rest until his cock rearranges your insides and impregnate you until he can convince you that he was the perfect mate for you, and then boom – happily ever after.

He knows that he can have you.

And it drives him crazy because he has never felt a strong urge to want  something so bad in his life. At this point, it’s not even a want. It’s a need. It’s hilarious how the two of you barely knew each other, but König was head over heels for you. He wants you by his side, whether you’re willing or not.

“Have you eaten?” Horangi asked.

“Not yet.” König answered.

That’s how he found himself sitting down at the mess hall, eating this food that was barely stimulating his senses. Horangi didn’t join him, said he had to attend a meeting with his soldiers since a complaint was given to him. It was good, actually. There was rice, three hamburger steak, gravy and mashed potatoes. They gave him a bigger serving simply because he was a giant man, it only made sense to give him enough sustenance to function. The food was delicious, but König didn’t really pay attention much to it.

Now that he has had a taste of you—you giving him kind words and smiling at him—König couldn’t get enough. You were like a drug. He want to pin you down, ravage you in bed, feel your walls clamp and spasm around his cock over and over again while you’re reduced to nothing but mewls with a cum-drunk expression the same way a drug addict heats heroin over a spoon before injecting it into their systems.

He needs you under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed with sweat and marked with his lips and teeth.

He needs you under him, creaming on his cock while he stretches out your cunt deliciously – taking him to the hilt like a good girl, cock forming a bulge on your abdomen. Juices dripping on to the sheets while he suckles on your nipple, his other hand groping your other tit.

He needs you under him–

“Colonel?”

König’s eyes snapped up and locked on to yours, and the concern scribbled on to them has his heart swooning over you once more. Your brows are turned upward with worry and you standing in front of the table he was sitting at, calling out to him has him wanting to put you on his lap and nuzzle against the crook of your neck. He smiles underneath the mask, seeing you again, blessing his eyes with your beauty.

“Ah, liebling. What brings you my way?”

“Roze is on a mission and Izzy is currently in a meeting, and every seat is taken. So, I was wondering if I can sit with you.”

“Of course, mein liebe. Your company is always welcome.”

You can sit on his lap.

You can sit on his face, ride him while he eats you out. Tongue lapping at your sweet juices as you cum on his face. God, he wants to spoil you. Cover you with kisses and embrace you because he loves you.

To König, you’re adorable when you eat. Your cheeks puffing a little like a chipmunk as you chew your food, before gulping some of your water. There’s a bit of mashed potato smeared by the side of your lips, and you don’t seem to notice. Before he can stop himself, his fingers had made contact with your skin, wiping away the stain. He sees you visibly froze, eyes widening so adorably.

“You had mashed potato on your face.” König chuckled, wiping the food off of his gloves with a tissue.

“O-oh…” You stutter, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry. I was hungry… I missed breakfast.”

Your cheeks turned red, flustered at his gentle gesture, and König eats that shit up. His mind keeping the moment in his head. His desires spilling over it like ink; tainting a shared innocent memory between you two. He stares at you for a solid minute, engraining your features into his memory—as if he hasn’t memorized your face at this point—and smiles softly beneath the mask. There are scars all over his body, including his face, and the tentacles on his face struggles not to reach out to you and feel your skin against it.

He wants you to know that he would do anything for you. How he’s willing to lay down his life for you. How he’s willing to protect you from anything because you’re all he ever wanted in his whole life. You would appreciate a man with scars, right? After all, it’s a sign of bravery.

König took part in many battles, too many to count with his tentacles and fingers and toes combined; spent his youth training to be the best killer possible. He took part in many conflicts and killed hundreds, maybe thousands even,  while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – maybe, except for talking to people sometimes. It’s not like he’s terrified of them, but rather afraid of making a fool of himself. König always hated talking to people, but being colonel meant he had to communicate to soldiers under his command and his superiors.

He isn’t afraid of anything. But… he is afraid of you finally seeing underneath the mask and thinking that you, in fact, find him revolting to look at.

The colonel takes one look good at you, and figures that maybe it’s worth the internal turmoil if it meant that he would have you by his side. He would agree to get as many ranks as possible if that meant he could provide for you and have you quit your job as a soldier. If that would allow him to come home to every day and night instead of sleeping alone in his room.

“I suppose you enjoy your breakfast, liebling?” König chuckled, and your face just goes even more red.

“It’s delicious,” You answered, smiling sheepishly.

He loves it when you smile. Obsessed with it—the way your eyes twinkle with delight whenever you cast your gaze at him without a hint of disgust.

“Would you like to get coffee someday?” König offered. “I know a café that has really good coffee or if you prefer non-caffeinated drinks, they also have milkshakes and their desserts are pretty good.”

 And you with those pretty doe-eyes of yours say, “Sure! Set the time and date, colonel.”

Other soldiers are looking. They’re glancing at you and him, but you don’t seem to notice the stares or the fact that it had gone slightly quiet. He is a creep, weirdo and all the words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones these past few days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are smiling at him with such unbridled admiration was driving him mad.

“How about this Thursday, ja?” König inquired, wanting to hear your opinion on the matter.

You think for a moment, brows furrowed and König finds it really endearing. Izzy said she’d take you to a café but she wasn’t really sure yet since she says it might be the day Horangi and her go on missions. Roze wouldn’t be back until Sunday, and you’re left alone with nothing on base.

Well… there is König.

“Sure! I’m free this Thursday.” You say to the colonel, brimming with excitement at your newfound friendship.

The monster is pleased. It seems you’ve checked out all the boxes he’s looking for in a mate.

Tags: @itsbellaham,leslie-lemon,tapioca-marzipan,starcrossed02,manjiroxs,mr-sol,euuuuuuun,sleepyoriana,urmom-77,marriedtoeddie,sylviatherosairy,breannab2018,asmicity-writes,slutforelliewilliamss,3-kai-3,notsamaira,kenz-ee

P.S. Idk how to tag or if I did it right^^

[brennenscolby]

Rough. || könig

Summary: you made a grave mistake telling your husband to get rough with you.

A/N: you guys keep asking, I keep giving. I’m so feral for this man it’s so bad :(

Wc: 1k +

Content: MAJOR SPIT KINK, overstimulation, creampie, praise, Dom! Konig, teasing, dirty talk, breats play, breast fetish, rough sex, spanking, anal play.

Pairings: König x Female! Reader

Minors DO NOT interact

————

The expanse of your exposed back shimmered with perspiration as your plump breasts pressed firmly against the pink rabbit plushie beneath your form, staining the surface of the fabric with abundant drops of sweat.

Heavy pants fell from your kiss-bitten lips, growing more frequent as your husband’s hips harshly slapped against your jiggling ass cheeks, prompting a rumble of flesh to echo across your shared bedroom. A soaked spot resided below the moans and groans bouncing across the room, containing reminants of pre-cum and arousal of which spilled from your used pussy moments prior. It’s been hours since he started fucking you like this and he hasn’t let you cum yet. Not after what you said to trigger the event in place.

“I want you to be rougher with me. We have gentle sex all the time. I don’t want that anymore.”

“Is this what you Fuckin’ wanted, schatz?” He barked, lips attacking the juncture between your jaw and neck as he continued pumping his heavy, thick cock deep within your spongy, velvety walls. “Ich werde deinen perfekten kleinen Körper beanspruchen”, he rasped with gritted teeth. You mumbled incoherently, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you desperately yearned to release on your husband. Stray hairs stuck to your sweaty visage, making you look all the more gorgeous in the eyes of the man that solely got to witness the pleasured looks and lewd glances which appeared on your face from his own ministrations.

“Speak up.” A broad hand snatched your face in a vice-like grip, fingers wedging to squish your cheeks.

“Y-you’re so b-big!” You babbled, eyes sparkling as they met his own. He smirked darkly at your angelic face and rolled his hips oh so tenderly, forcing you to sputter as drops of arousal spilled onto the dampened sheets beneath your forms.

“Hmm!” your pink tongue lolled out of your gaping mouth, of which contained traces of smeared crimson lipstick trailing up to your cheek. Your mind drifted in and out of an otherworldly state, thoughts swirling to mush at the presence of the veiny, fat cock bullying its way into your poor little pussy.

“You’re always so tight, sweetheart.”

You let out a cute little whimper of which König took as a sign of your pleasure. He nipped at your ear hotly, teeth grazing just the tip to stem another desperate mewl from your salivating mouth.

“Good girl.” he cooed, mocking the desperation in your voice.

Your dampened eyes snapped open, feeling as rough palms suddenly prodded your plush, ass cheeks apart, exposing them to your husband’s piercing gaze. You whined and squirmed, desperately clawing the sheets in front of you before feeling your back suddenly stiffen as a glob of spit dripped down your asshole and to the space where your wet pussy tightly stretched around his pulsing cock.

“K-konig!” You wailed, tears messily dripping down your flushed cheeks in zigzagged trails. Embarrassment colored your bashful face as you hid into the mattress below. The translucent substance smeared between the cleavage, and you squealed the second a harsh slap smacked against your reddened ass.

A rumble of deep laughter vibrated in your ear and down your shivering back, going as far as to course through your body and down to your twitching, throbbing clit. He hummed seductively, pressing the hardened abs of his stomach against the flesh of your lower back.

“I know you like it when I do that, liebling.” Your husband sighed huskily, pulling the head of his heavy cock back out of your cum covered cunt, leaving the stretched hole of your inviting cunt abandoned and puckering for attention, before roughly plunging your tensing walls apart, a loud squishing sound following from your mixed, dripping juices.

“F-fuck”, you gasped, grasping your colorful pillow to your pounding chest tightly, only to feel the sensitive buds of your tits rake against the material in spouts of stimulation.

“Cute little asshole twitching all f’me.” his accent rasped and you whined adorably in reply, the heat from your dewy cheeks shimmering down on your moistened collarbones. He hoisted his body forward, the bulky build of his torso fully encapsulating your small, nimble form as he cruelly curled a muscled arm around your delicate neck, the other tracing its appendages down to rub soothing circles on your clit.

Your heart skipped a beat at his embrace, adrenaline coursing through your veins. He continued using your body like an instrument, forcefully propelling his soaked pelvis so that his cock skimmed your insides in the most delicious of ways.

Your husband moaned upon catching your watery orbs, snickering the second three of his appendages suddenly slipped into your mouth. You sputtered and choked in surprise, chest heaving as your eyes fluttering closed before you obediently suckled the thick fingers in your heated cavern.

“Mmm!”, you moaned sweetly, tears rolling down your heated cheeks and collecting beneath your saliva covered chin.

“You’re so fuckin’ cute, Schatz.” he grunted, rolling his hips back to sharply thrust back in, smacking against the plushy place against the upper wall of your cunt powerfully enough to make the springy bed you leaned on, squeak.

“Can’t believe this cute pussy is all mein.”

Whiney little mewls escaped your lips and rumbled against his fingers as he continued plunging into your pussy, the walls clenching around the intrusion of his slippery dick as he chuckled below his breath from your mindless hiccuping and sputtering moans.

“You feel s’ good, liebling.” he groaned, the flesh surrounding his pelvis and the v lines of his sturdy hips were smothered in your glistening arousal, which he moaned fondly of the second he felt more of it splatter onto the muscles of his upper thighs and his spamming balls.

“You gonna make this pretty pussy cum on my cock, ja Süße?” You nodded dumbly, the pads of your fingers scrambling to grab at the flexed muscled arm wrapped around your neck. “Y-yea- ahh¡”

“Yes what?”, he challenged, azure eyes calculatingly staring at the pleasured features of your cute face.

“Y-yes, my h-husband.” He smirked, his hand pinching and fondling a single bouncing breast.

“Mein. deine Fotze gehört ganz mir.”

You hastily pulled your quivering mouth away from his drenched fingers, a web of spit sticking to your chin as you choked and sputtered, the knot in your lower belly coiling at the sudden embrace of his cock pressing against the sweet, plump place in your pussy. Your back arched as your shaky thighs trembled, eyes pinching closed from the sudden orgasm which overcame your senses.

“I-I’m cumming!”, you mewled prettily, breathless from the slick coated balls that slapped firmly against your sweet, drizzled cunt.

“G-Gottverdammt. Shit.” König grunted lowly, the feeling of your throbbing walls squeezing his brimming, inflamed cock oh so deliciously, he began to pant the moment spurts of his hot, white cum splattered across the insides of your soft, gushy pussy. Angelic moans spewed from his mouth as he emptied himself in you, lovingly kissing your shoulder blade as his forehead lazily pressed on your matted spine. Weak movements from his hips pushed him to keep rutting against your puffy clit as he slowly pulled out, streaks of his seed splashing on the hood of your cunt.

König stood rigid against your sweaty back as you gulped for air, hands loosely planting on the white, crisp mattress cover below you before your senses finally regulated. Your tired body limply dropped on the bed and you looked at your husband expectantly, only to find yourself getting hoisted upwards by his strong hands.

Your face was approximately inches from his, and you began to feel self-conscious now that your rabbit plushie no longer shielded your full breasts from his intent gaze. You opened your half-lidded, fluttering eyes slowly, batting them innocently before feeling as the wind suddenly escaped your pounding chest. Hefty appendages dug into the hickies marked into the surrounding flesh of your neck, and you began to cry, fright shining in your doe-like eyes as your heart accelerated in anticipation.

“What did I say about making me cum, Schatz?”

—-

deine Fotze gehört ganz mir. - your cunt is all mine.

Ich werde deinen perfekten kleinen Körper beanspruchen - I’m gonna claim your perfect little body

Süße - sweet

Liebling - darling

Maus/mausi - mouse

Ja - yes

Schatz - treasure

Mein- mine

Gottverdammt - god dammit

[tinydefector]

Human's effects

More a silly little thing that I had to write out.

Warnings: talks about sex, xenophilia, kinks

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

Next

Human Effects 2 - characters

Request are open

____

There were a lot of things that fascinated the cybertronians over humans. Their size, body types, skin tones and those soft they are. 

So many of them become so fascinated over the fact that such small and fragile creatures don't have plating to protect themselves but only wear soft fabrics. 

And it slowly leads a lot of Cybertronians to realising they were Xenophiles. 

A list of kinks and fetishes cybertronians discovered from it. 

-size kink 

-skin fetish 

- hair pulling 

- silk and ribbon play

- cum inflation 

-breeding

-pet play

- vore

-fluid play and consumption 

- spiking warming

- Heart and spark syncing 

- new spike and Valve modifications to test on their human lover

There's originally a lot of unknowns about humans, and cybertronians are rather intrigued, for one the first times the a lot of the crew of lost light had encountered them was on black market and high priced pets, and companions. 

There were exceptions such as Perceptor, Ratchet and Megatron who had been around humans before but for a lot of the bots this was their first time seeing them. that is until they are assigned a human communications, relations Ambassador/ liaison. 

But after the black market incident it had led a lot of bots into research over humans. And it just spirals more with them discovering some rather dark history with cybertronians keeping humans as playthings. And finding out their ‘interface equipment’ isn't that different from their own, just more organic and smaller.  

A late night of drinking at swerve slowly devolved into conversation over their local human. Brainstorm sits nursing his drink of engex while he and others of the ship chat away. "So does it fascinate anyone else over the fact that humans don't have natural plating or any kind of protection for their squishy form?" He brings up, he himself had fallen down the rabbit hole of human porn but didn't quite know how to breach the subject with anyone else. 

"Oh Primus, look who decided to join us, thought you were holding up with your Conjunx Chrome!" Swerve said with a chuckle, placing more drinks down. He hopped up onto one of the bar stools and leaned in eagerly, His attention flicks to Brainstorm. "You bring up a good point, Brainstorm," Swerve replied.

 "Those squishy humans are really something else, ain't they? No armour, no defences - I'd be scared outta my circuits if I was just soft protoform all the time!, like i’m so surprised squishy hasn't been stepped on yet" 

Rodimus nodded in agreement. "Yet they've managed to survive just fine so far. There's obviously more to them than meets the eye. Like i've seen some of the things our ambassador can do like the strange stretching"

"I dunno," Skids chimed in. "Seems pretty fraggin' reckless if you ask me. One good shot and it lights out!" 

Rewind shuddered. "Ugh, don't remind me. Just thinking about all those organics and tubes and who knows what else squishing around in there makes my fuel tank turn." He made a dramatic churning sound effect.

Riptide laughed. "I saw a nature documentary once about these hairless ape creatures the humans evolved from. Now THOSE guys were squishy."

“What in Primus have you been watching?!” 

“some old earth docs that Percy’s has, bots got a lot of info on Terra and the planet's history” The bots shared a collective laugh at the image. Swerve took a swig of his energon. "Frag, maybe there's something to be said about living on the edge like that! Sure keeps things interesting, its still strange that they are somehow one of the top predators of their planet yet are smaller than half the things they eat"

Brainstorm goes quiet for a moment. "Have you seen how flexible they are?"

Swerve nearly spit out his energon. "Whoa hey, I don't need those kinds of vivid imagery floatin' around my processor thank you very much!, keep the squishy interface vids to yourself" he said, waving his hands animatedly. 

"You have to admit, the way those fleshbags can contort themselves is pretty impressive," Skids added. "Must come in handy for.. maintenance." He waggled his optical ridges suggestively.

Brainstorm nodded pensively. "Indeed. Their non-metal structure allows for feats we could never replicate by ourselves." He took a sip of his energon. "Always makes me curious what other evolutionary adaptations they've developed to compensate for such vulnerability. The potential for scientific discovery is endlessly fascinating with their species and ancestors."

Riptide shrugged. "As long as they don't expect ME to try any of their bone-breaking yoga moves," he laughed. "This chassis is meant for tough stuff, not Twister!"

"You think they would be soft, you know if you interface with one?" Brainstorm asked while downing his drink, the engex was slowly going to his processor loosening his lips. 

"Oh don't give me that look I know for a fact you all have thought about doing with a human at least once! Rodimus I know for a fact you eye them up everytime our little liaison walks past you" He calls out Rodimus. 

Rodimus nearly choked on his energon in an attempt to look innocent. "Wh-what? That's not - I never -" he sputtered in protest, flustered optics darting around at the other bots.

Brainstorm smirked as Rodimus squirmed uncomfortably on the stool. "Oh please, don't try to deny it, Captain. You're about as subtle as a combiner in a supply closet." 

"Roddy's got the hots for squishy, who knew!" Swerve giggled uncontrollably. 

Skids nudged Riptide playfully. "Hey, maybe we got a xenophiliac on the ship!" 

"Alright alright, knock it off you glitches," Rodimus growled, though the blue flush across his face said otherwise. "I was just... curious, that's all. They ARE a strange species."

Swerve tried to contain his laughter. "Ohhh I bet you are more than curious, if you catch my drift!, wanna get up close and personal" More raucous peals of laughter from the group.

Brainstorm stroked his chin in thought. "They do feel intriguingly delicate. I wonder if their flexible frames would be more pleasurable to interface with than our own rigid forms..."

"Have you seen videos of them, they stretch a lot, like a lot, like I know human skin is resilient but i didn't think they were that resilient " Brainstorm states remembering some of the videos he had seen online. Other bots peak up intrigued. 

Swerve choked again as his fuel tank nearly turned inside out. "Brainstorm! That's... more than I needed to visualise, thank you very much." 

Skids seemed a bit less phased. "Fleshbags gettin' their twist on, huh? Can't say I'm not curious now." 

Even Rodimus seemed intrigued despite his earlier protests. "Resilient is an   understatement. I've seen some of the contortions that humans can do - it's astounding that their protoforms don't tear apart." 

Brainstorm nodded enthusiastically. "Precisely! With the right lubrication and technique, I hypothesise an interface with a limber human form would provide entirely novel sensory data."

Riptide shifted uncomfortably. "Not sure I'm ready to dive into the fleshy deep end just yet.”  

Swerve shot him a sly grin. "Aw c'mon Rip, live a little! Where's your sense of adventure?" 

Rodimus tried to steer the subject elsewhere. "Let's maybe change topics before someone needs a wipe down. Or Primus forbid, Magnus overhears you lot"

"I hope I did not hear what my processor just heard" Ultra Magnus states while staring down at the group of drinking mechs. A Lot of bots in the bar snicker at the group getting in trouble. 

"Come on Sir, get that wrench out of you aft, join us!" Skids called out.

Swerve let out an audible squeak at Ultra Magnus's stern tone, almost dropping his engex in panic. "U-Um, Magnus sir! Fancy seeing you here. We were just, uh, discussing..." 

He shot desperate optics at the others for help, but they all seemed to shrink down in their seats under Magnus's disapproving glare. 

Rodimus flashed an uneasy grin. "Just having a friendly debate about alien species, you know how it is. Brainstorm was bringing up some, er, interesting biological points..." 

Ultra Magnus sighed wearily. "I'd rather not know the details, thank you. Some topics are best left undiscussed in public."

The whole bar erupted into laughter at the group's misfortune. "Ah lay off em Magnus!" one patron called out. "They're just havin' fun!"

Another bot piped up. "Yeah, loosen up that rusty chassis and join us! One drink won't hurt." 

Magnus scowled, unamused. But as the encouragement grew louder, he glanced around hesitantly...

Swerve spotted an opening. "C'mon Magnus, live a little! I'll even give you a two-for-one special." He flashed a hopeful grin.

The enforcer grumbled but his resolve was cracking. Against his better judgement, he pulled up a stool. "One drink." Swerve whooped and poured him a double.

They cheer as Magnus sits down to drink with them. Skids speak up. "So brainstorm you saying you'd hook up with a fleshy, get nice and personal with a human" he calls out with a laugh.

Brainstorm leaned forward eagerly. "Why of course! The pursuit of scientific knowledge knows no boundaries. Though upon further review, direct interfacing with an organic might require certain, ah, safety protocols." 

Skids peered at him suspiciously. "Exactly what kind of 'research' are you plannin' on doing Brainy?"

Swerve nudged Riptide with a smirk. "I'll bet ya 20 shanix Brainstorm's just trying to find an excuse to get jiggy with the humies!"

Riptide snorted. "No way, I ain't takin' THAT bet!" 

Rodimus dropped his face in his palms with a groan. "can we PLEASE stop picturing Brainstorm fragging humans?" 

Ultra Magnus coughed on his engex, catching the comment he'd really rather not have heard. 

But Brainstorm paid them no mind, lost in scientific contemplation. "The human capacity for sensory input and feedback would provide a rich study on cross-species interface protocol adaptability..."

"INTERFACE PROTOCOLS?!" Swerve shrieked. The table erupted into howls of laughter at Magnus's deeply uncomfortable expression. It was going to be a LONG night indeed.

“Primus Brainstorm you kinky fragger” 

"Fine then everyone servo up if your not at least somewhat curious or thought about it at least once" Brainstorm calls out to all of Swerve's bars patrons

"Oooh, Brainstorm's putting us all on the spot!" Swerve giggled with gleeful mischief. He raised his servo without hesitation. 

Skids was quick to follow suit, slamming his half-empty glass down. "Frag it, I'll admit it! Those soft squishy bodies got me wonderin' what else they're good for." 

To everyone's surprise, Rodimus sheepishly lifted a servo as well, avoiding optic contact with Ultra Magnus. Riptide shrugged and joined in the show of servos, if only to blend in. 

The majority of bots in the bar started raising their hands amid roars of laughter and drunken encouragement. Only a select few hesitated, shooting nervous glances at Magnus. 

The enforcement officer's expression cycled through outrage, resignation and back to outrage as his gaze swept over the forest of raised servos. "I cannot condone such deviant interest in alien biologies," he protested, voice stiff. 

But as more servos stayed stubbornly aloft, Magnus sagged with a weary sigh. After a long moment, he slowly, begrudgingly raised one massive hand as well. 

The bar erupted into ear-splitting cheers. Swerve howled with glee, banging his fists on the counter. "Look's like we've all got a bit of xenophile in us after all! Even you, Magnus my mech!" 

Magnus buried his faceplate in his servos as Brainstorm cackled maniacally. Once the bar settles back down its Swerve who speaks up with a smirk on his faceplate. "So... which one of you charming mechs are gonna be the first to try and get our lovely Liaison?" He teases. 

Rodimus sputtered into his drink at Swerve's question, flushing brighter. "W-what? I never said anything about actually doing anything!, it's all just fantasies Swerve!" he protested in a hissed tone. 

Skids rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, well they do have a cute lil' figure. Bet they'd be a wild ride..." 

Swerve grinned slyly at Rodimus. "Aw c'mon Captain, don't tell me you ain't thought about it at least once! I bet they'd be real fun to break in, get all soft and pliable..." 

Rodimus smacked Swerve upside the helm. "Knock it off!" He shot a pleading glance at Ultra Magnus as if begging for rescue.

But unexpectedly, Brainstorm was the one who spoke up. "While the organic's flexibility is intriguing, directly interfacing could introduce unknown health risks or cultural taboos. Outside the fact our people have kept humans as pets and companions in the past. A more ethical approach would be gaining consent for strictly observational research."  

Riptide frowned. "Not sure the liaison would go for that either Storm" 

Swerve sighed dreamily. "Just imagine wrapping those soft squishy bits all around you though... bet they'd feel amazing..."  

"SWERVE." Magnus's warning tone silenced the cheeky bartender immediately. He turned back to Rodimus with a sigh. "Despite certain... Curiosities, directly engaging an organics  such a manner would be unwise, dangerous even, not to mention our form are much larger and could harm a human."

Rewind nodded gratefully at Magnus, relieved the subject was shifting. But the mischievous glint in Swerve's optic suggested his teasing wasn't over yet. It was going to be a long night indeed.

"Relax Mags I'm just riling these drunk mech up. Unless you're interested in our sweet little ambassador" he teases, making other bots choke on their drinks. 

Ultra Magnus's icy glare could have frozen Swerve's energon. "Need I remind you this conversation is highly inappropriate and unprofessional," he said sternly. 

But to everyone's surprise, Rodimus let out an undignified snort of laughter. "As if Magnus would ever break protocol like that! He'd probably recite the entire Autobot code of conduct while fragging."

The whole bar erupted in howls of mirth at the mental image. 

Swerve was nearly rolling on the floor. "Can you imagine?! 'Paragraph 3, subsection B clearly states interfacing with sentient aliens requires prior diplomatic clearance forms in triplicate!'" he cried in a mockingly stiff voice. 

Skids were wiping away fuel tears. "Primus if MR. RULES AND REGS ever broke the rules, it'd be one for the history archives!" 

Riptide jabbed Skids in the side. "Ten shanix says he'd have them memorising regulations the whole time!" 

"Twenty shanix says they'd run screaming first!" Swerve shot back. 

The bets and ribbing escalated as more mechs joined in. Across the table, Rodimus shoved Magnus playfully. "C'mon Magnus, live on the wild side for once!" 

Magnus's rumbling huff was the only response. Watching his rigid commander finally loosening up filled Swerve with delight. Somehow, some way, he'd find a way to get Magnus to break protocol yet! It was shaping up to be the best night ever.

"Ohhh let's make this fun. I list some bots and you say if you think they would hook up with a human" Riptide states. "Rung, Drift and Ratchet" he calls out the names.

Swerve let out a dramatic gasp. "Ooh spicy!"

"Rung is definitely curious but way too professional. Might let loose over a couple cubes of engex though!" 

Skids broke into hysterics at Riptide's suggestions. "Rung and a HUMAN?! Rung doesn't even touch his OWN interface panel!" 

Rodimus snorted. "Can you imagine? 'My dear, it seems you're experiencing some psychological interfacing blockers. Please, tell me how that makes you feel.'" 

"Drift guy's definitely intrigued by other species, if you know what I mean. Plus he's artsy so he'd probably appreciate the 'aesthetic'." Swerve responds

"Drift might go for it, he's open to new experiences," Rodimus mused with a grin. 

Brainstorm nodded thoughtfully. "Indeed, his spiritual philosophies suggest an openness to cultural exchange that others may lack. I think if he and ratchet weren't together its something he might try" 

"Ratchet. bah! As if that grumpy old rust-bucket would try anything so illogical. Unless she's a doctor too and starts quoting his favourite protocols... then all bets are off!" Skids laughed. 

"Ratchet? Nah, too much of a hard aft. He'd just bitch about human biohazards the whole time," Swerve giggled. 

"Well if Drift was interested I'm pretty sure that mecn could get ratchet to do anything with the bat of his optics" Rodimus remarks.

The table erupted in raucous laughter. Swerve took a playful bow. "Alright bring on the next victims!" 

Riptide rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, how about...Tailgate, Cyclonus, and Whirl?" 

Swerve cackled wickedly. "Tailgate would be way too nervous but he'd try for his Conjunx Cyclonus. Cyclonus would 100% use his broody vibes to charm her pants off but only for Tailgate. And Whirl? He doesn't interface, he destroys! So that liaison better watch her interfacing ports around that lunatic!" 

Chromedome interjects stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Tailgate would be way too nervous and shy, I think. He'd probably short-circuit just from holding hands!" 

Riptide nodded. "Cyclonus has always struck me as the kinky type. Wonder if he's into those squishy bits like Brainstorm thinks..."

"Whirl would frag anything that moves," Rodimus interjected with a grimace. "But I don't think an organic would survive the experience!"

Brainstorm stroked his chin. "Indeed, Whirl's interfacing protocol subroutines seem rather...enthusiastic. Consent might be a fleeting concept. Better to observe from a safe distance." 

Swerve shuddered. "Ugh, don't make me picture that psycho getting 'friendly' with a human! I'm tryna keep my fuel down y'know." 

The names continue being dropped. 

 " First Aid! I don't know if the medic-bot's got it in him to break the rules. But I betcha if he did, he'd be real gentle and caring-like. He'd have them feelin' better than new in no time!" 

Skids grinned devilishly. "Yeah but would they feel better? Aid's so straight and narrow I bet he'd put em in stasis lock from boredom!" 

"Now Perceptor on the other hand..." Swerve tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Bookish type, but you know there's a passionate scientist in there waiting to experiment. Think he'd go slow and methodical, really take his time 'exploring the specimen'." 

"his thirst for organic sciences might overpower his good sense," Rewind remarks. 

“optimus prime, Prowl and bumblebee ” Chromedome interjects with his own inquiries. 

Swerve pretended to wipe away exhaust fumes. "Primus help me, this is gonna be good... Optimus Prime is obviously Mister Morality himself, but you know he's got a secret wild side under all that virtue signalling. Just imagine how freaky he could get with some alien nookie!" 

The bar erupted in incredulous, drunken laughter and cheers. Swerve grinned impishly. 

"As for Prowl, I'm telling you that stick up his tailpipe is begging to come out and play. One roll in the berth with a naughty fleshy and he'd loosen up reeeal nice!" 

"And Bee? He's a sweet kid, but you know what they say, it's always the quiet ones! Between his cute lil' face and that tight chassis, he'd have the human lining up to frag that glitch right into stasis!" 

The bar absolutely lost it, bots falling over each other in drunken hysterics. Even Mirage was struggling not to fall off his chair. Swerve took an exaggerated bow as his audience howled. 

"Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all cycle! Now who's ready for the next round?" More shouts and clanking glasses answered his call. It was shaping up to be the wildest night at Swerve's yet!

 Magnus dropping Megatron's name that really sent them over the edge.

"Megatron?! With the liaison?!" Rodimus howled with laughter, nearly spitting out his drink. "That's the funniest thing I've heard all cycle!" 

But Swerve wasn't done. "Megatron? Now THAT'S an image! 'You pathetic fleshbag, you DARE try to mount the great Megatron?! Grovel before my interface array!'" 

Magnus adds more information which makes everyone surprised " He and the ambassador are rather close" He states

Rewind speaks up from Chromedome’s side. "Y'know... they do have a certain chemistry. I'll bet under all that scowling and chipped armour there's a softie just waitin' for the right tender touch to melt his spark. And they have got sass to spare  bet they could handle Megatron's brooding and snarl!" 

"Twenty shanix says he'd have them trembling and beggin' for mercy in no time flat!" Skids bet eagerly. 

"You're on!" crowed Riptide. "But I still think Perceptor's the real dark horse..."

[uhzuku]

╰─▸ ❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄! ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐋. 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: “More…?” he whispers quietly, clinging to you desperately, and you look down at him with a raised eyebrow while your lips quirk up into a smile.

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: hazbin hotel | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lucifer morningstar/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 2.57k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fem reader, dom reader, dom fem reader, sub lucifer, bottom lucifer, manipulative reader ( i have awoken an obsession in writing them i’m afraid ), reader is longtime friends with alastor, mentions of alastor, reader is ‘the seamstress’ overlord, lucifer crawls across the floor like once? maybe twice, oral ( fem receiving ), begging, brief master kink, whining, some degradation, praise kink, lucifer is 100% being a Good Boy, leg humping, self-inflicted overstimulation, and he WHIMPERS, crying, lucifer’s just a needy lil guy tbh.

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: i have fallen into a rabbit hole </3 | 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃!— @mrskreideprinz. @p-ersus. @herohibiscus. @vampcubus.

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

Breathy whines and whimpers echo through the dimly lit room, the flickering flame of candles catching on the deep red wine in the glass you’re holding with your non-dominant hand. The other is currently being lavished with needy, borderline worshipful kisses, your wrist tightly gripped by the man you’d had wrapped around your pinkie finger for the last five or so years. After being abandoned by his beloved wife and his sweet little daughter, he had been a mess — a mess a long-standing overlord like yourself had been quick to clean up and turn into something else, something more. Playing the concerned friend with ‘hidden feelings’ had been more than easy ( whether or not those falsified feelings had festered into something real was for you to know, and for you to know only ), and you’d had him eating out of your hand faster than even you had expected. After only two years he’d removed Lilith’s ring, and a month after that he’d begged for yours, which of course you’d accepted. You’d helped run the kingdom in his name ever since while he lavished you with attention and tended to his silly little hobbies. Your empire had expanded from a simple series of shops in every Ring that clothed the upper class to a behind-the-scenes Queen of the nation; typically you’d have celebrated with your oldest friend, but he’d disappeared after a tie-up with the Media Demon, and you’d not heard from or of him since. Briefly you’d worried he’d succumbed to his injuries, but then waved them away; little could injure Alastor, and no mobilized television screen would be able to kill him. Once he needed your services as his only tailor again he’d return, and you could demand and receive answers from him then. Until that time, your time was split between all of Hell, the whims of Rosie, and of course the dim-witted desperate King you called your own. 

Alastor would be proud, if not envious, of the web you’d weaved across Pride, if you did say so yourself. 

With one leg you push Lucifer away, planting the ball of one of your feet against his bare chest and making him fall back onto his calves, kneeling before you just as he belonged. He whines at the loss of skin contact when you withdraw your foot, but you ignore him, pondering; honestly he’d been far too easy to shape, so much so that it was almost disappointing at first, but his resolve and desperation to please had been more than entertaining. Every moment he kept by your side made your power grow, and considering the abandonment issues that ran rampant like poison beneath his skin, eating away at his brain and filling him with anxiety, that meant you were never alone for more than a few hours. If you weren’t steadily growing stronger, you’d have questioned if the clinginess were at all worth it. 

“Please — Please, let me… Please…” The soft whimpers from the floor in front of you catch your attention instantly, and you gaze down at the mess of a man before you. His hair — typically so well-managed — hangs messily over his eyes, and his wings flare out behind him, the massive feathered limbs twitching every now and then as he holds himself back from touching you without permission; the kissing had been reward enough for the necklace he’d surprised you with at breakfast, even if he wanted more. To get more, he had to earn it. 

“Do you know any words other than ‘please’?” you ask, amused by the sight of the puddle of an angel before you as well as his vastly shrunken vocabulary. He’s on his knees before you, eyes wanting and voice thick as he begs, and it does nothing but feed the raging warmth in your lower abdomen. In control though you may be, the King of Hell would get what he wanted before the night was through; after all, how could you deny someone who was being such a good boy?

“I know whatever words you want me to say,” he promises in a whine, “What do you want me to say? To ask? I’ll do it, I promise.” You know he will; when has he ever not done what you ask? Never. 

“You’ll be good?” You ask, raising an eyebrow as you sip your wine, and he whimpers and nods, hands fisting and unfisting around nothing as he continues fighting the urges to grip at you like a drowning man clings to a life preserver. You fight off the urge to laugh; he was just so pathetic, you couldn’t help but feel fond of him. There was just something about sorry men on their knees that did it for you every time, and the King of Hell was no exception.

“S-So good,” he moans shakily, his pupils dilating as you crook a finger in his direction as the smallest invitation. He crawls on all fours closer to you before leaning his head against the warm skin of the inside of your thigh, nuzzling against you before hiding his eyes against it. “I will, I — I…” Fuck, he couldn’t even think — exactly how you liked him. His breathing is picking up, getting heavier than before — he’s getting all worked up, and you haven’t even properly touched him yet. 

You cross your legs tightly, displacing him, and a questioning noise falls from his lips. “Mmm… Ask me for permission,” you purr, and you watch his pupils slowly dilate and his eyes fill with a fresh surge of want. 

“F-Fuck, okay — C-Can I? Please, can I?” he asks, a pleading tone in his voice that has you clenching around nothing. 

“Can you what?” you ask, turning to study your fingernails lazily after taking your last drink of wine, putting the glass on the table next to where you were sitting. He lets out a noise of complaint, demanding your attention be put back on him, and you acquiesce easily; you could certainly give in to one or two of his requests, wordless or otherwise, considering he’d be begging to bury himself in your cunt before the night was out. 

He trembles, barely holding himself back from descending upon you like a starved man would a meal. “Can I touch you? I want to taste you, wanna make you feel good, please—“

You narrow your eyes and fight off the smile making the corners of your lips twitch; you can’t smile yet, it would ruin all the fun. “Who are you asking, Lucifer?” 

“Fuck. Fuck. Master, I’m-!” he whimpers, and you raise an eyebrow in silence, watching as he bites down hard on his bottom lip before asking, “Please, Master, can I lick your pussy?”

Your heartbeat quickens. “Hmmm…” you squint slowly at him, as if pondering the thought for the sole sake of teasing him, and he plants a gentle kiss on the inside of your knee before looking up at you, asking silently for the permission he felt he needed. 

“Please?” he begs again, and you smile finally, watching the way his ruby eyes light up with barely-contained excitement. 

“It’s alright with me,” you purr softly, uncrossing and spreading your legs for him. He lunges forward, curling his forearms under the backs of your thighs and burying his face in your cunt immediately. He’s sloppy as he eats you out, drooling from the taste and excitement, and you sigh happily as you relax into the couch cushions. The man was ever-so-talented with his tongue, you’d discovered years ago, and his favorite hobby was to lie between your legs as often and long as you would let him — and oh, would you let him. All he wanted to do was please you, to ensure your comfort and make sure you never wanted to leave him, and a while your pity for him turned into a soft fondness that urged you to acquiesce to some of his more romanticized fancies, which was why the two of you had had a lovely dinner tonight before you’d led him by his red tie to your shared bedroom. 

“Fuck,” you groan, letting your head fall back at the same time as you close your eyes and bury your free hand in his feather-soft hair, drawing him deeper into your core and coaxing a moan from him at the sensation of his hair being pulled a little. “That’s it, sweet boy — more tongue, just a little more… What a good boy you are…” 

Your hips roll up into his learned tongue at the same time that you catch your own bottom lip between your teeth and grab at one of your breasts lazily, kneading it in time with each swirl of his tongue against you. A shaky string of words into your cunt that you faintly recognize as whiny pleas for you to love him and stay with him forever only stimulate you more, the vibrations making your hips jump up. A small bump against your leg goes ignored the first time, as well as the second, but the third catches your attention and you open your eyes and look down to see him grinding against your leg like a dog. Bullying him crosses your mind, and you are nothing but a slave to your own whims in the bedroom, so you do. 

“What a pathetic fucking man!” you laugh, startling him out of his focus on your cunt and cumming against your leg, and he blinks up at you with wide eyes. He never stops lapping at your cunt, and you scoff meanly. “Humping my leg like some mutt, how unfitting of a king. You’re so desperate to get off that you can’t even wait for the opportunity to use my cunt like a real man — but at least you’re good with your tongue, aren’t you?”

Lucifer whines out a moan into you as he nods an affirmative, and you laugh again, this time more breathily. “You like that, don’t you?” you ask mockingly, tugging at his messy hair just enough for it to sting a little. He whimpers into your core, looking up at you through tear-filled eyes. “The mockery, the harsh words, me being mean — and the praise. Can’t make up your mind on what you want more can you?” A shrill whine is your only response as he nips at your swollen clit, and your hips buck up into his face as you moan, “Mmm, you just want to get cunt-drunk, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh!” he agrees, thrusting hard against you and lapping up every drop of slick you had to offer him. He was talented when it came to slipping back and forth between focusing on smothering your clit with attention and dipping his tongue into your wanting hole, and it took all your inner strength not to lose face and wrap your thighs around his head. 

“Please,” he says, voice slurred with desire, “Please, more — Love more, let me have more, I want more-!”

“More?” you ask mockingly, clenching around nothing as his long tongue circles your clit, and he moans into you desperately enough that the vibrations nearly force a whimper of your own from you lips.  “G-Go ahead and ride my leg,” you say shakily, grinning down at him patronizingly as he immediately starts grinding down on you hard. “And cum whenever you want — after all, you’re just my dumb little pussy-whipped pretty boy~”

He lets out a shrill cry, thrusting against your leg hard as he bites and sucks at your cunt and cums all over your calf, moaning and crying with tears running down his face. Shrill cries fall from your lips as you stop bothering to hold them back; he was already getting sloppy in the ways you liked him best, him hearing you call out for him would only further your shared desire. 

“What do we say?” you ask, keening as he sucks at you greedily, and he lets out a stilted cry of his own. 

“Thank you!” he gasps, continuing to roll his cock against you and hiccuping through tears at the overstimulation he’s forcing upon himself as smaller spurts of cum rush from his cock and coat your skin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you..!”

“Good boy,” you murmur, moving your hand from his hair to gently caress his face, and he lets out a shaky sob as he nuzzles into your hand. You lay your head back, content to doze as he comes down from his own particular high while clinging to you. 

“Love you,” he whispers quietly, and you hum softly back at him in response, wordlessly sharing the feeling. “So much. So, so much, more than anyone…” You let him babble mindlessly, knowing how fond he was of doing so, and listen in silence while watching him with a deep fondness sparkling in your eyes. After about a half hour or so he slows his chatter to a stop, beginning to play with your fingers and nibble at his lips, clearly wanting something. 

“What is it, Lucifer?” you ask lazily, petting his head gently, and he lets out wordless whine that makes you raise an eyebrow. “Well?”

He’s quiet for a moment, for some reason unsure of himself, before he finally voices his desire. “More…?” he whispers quietly, clinging to you desperately, and you look down at him smugly while your lips quirk up into a smile. 

“More?” you ask mockingly, then scoff and cross your legs, cutting him off from what he desired most, a surprised unintentional chirp falling from his lips. “Mmm, I don’t know if you deserve it…” And so begin the waterworks.

Lucifer bursts into tears, overstimulated and wanting and needy, all while being denied of the only thing he wants. He was a man lost in a vast desert and you were the small spring he stumbled upon after days — after tasting you the first time all those years ago, once in a night was never enough. You’re just being mean to bully him like you always do now, and he knows it. 

Your cum glistens on his lips and chin, and his tongue darts out to lick it up without thinking, sending a surge of heat rushing through your core. “But — But I was good!” he argues shakily through his tears, “Please, I just want — want to make you feel good, ‘nd I wanna feel good too…”

You gaze down at him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and biting down on it harshly to ground yourself; God, he’s fucking cute. So needy and desperate, his face coated in your cum… 

You smile and spread your legs again, fighting off the urge to laugh at the way his feathers fluff up and he starts trembling in excitement. He’s always been an insatiable little thing, and you should have known better than to start to doze off after he’d achieved just his first orgasm — besides, you can handle him! This was your King after all, and you know him like you know your own mind. What’s a half dozen or more orgasms before the night is out? You could always sleep past noon if you really wanted, and it wasn’t as if he’d be leaving you anytime soon. 

“Then go ahead, Your Majesty,” you purr softly, watching the way his pupils nearly swallow up his irises entirely at the rumble in your voice. “I’m all yours.”

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

[theshift]

The Lawyer

Jordan exhaled as he packed the last of his belongings into the thin cardboard box that had been sitting on the floor of his cubicle all summer. Internships were supposed to be stepping stones toward the future, glimpses of the career you were about to embrace, but this one had turned into something far less promising. Not because the work was bad. The tasks themselves were what he expected—briefs, filings, the occasional research rabbit hole. No, it wasn’t the work.

It was Angelo.

Jordan glanced toward the office down the hall, the one with the door half-open. Inside, Angelo’s portrait hung on the wall, larger than life, showcasing the full extent of his obnoxiousness. The picture was a glossy, oversized headshot of Angelo in a suit. Eyes narrowed in a “I know better than you” expression—it was hard to imagine anyone liking the guy. But they didn’t have to imagine. They all knew.

Jordan knew it the moment he arrived at the firm for the internship. Angelo was the first to “welcome” him in his own special way.

“Coffee’s on the second floor. Better get used to making a lot of trips down there if you plan on staying,” Angelo had said without even looking up from his desk, flicking his fingers toward the door like Jordan wasn’t even there. After that, it had been a never-ending stream of condescending remarks, impossible-to-please assignments, and public humiliation. Once, during a meeting, Jordan had dared to offer a suggestion about how to streamline a client’s case documentation. Angelo had cut him off mid-sentence with a sharp laugh.

“Leave the legal advice to those of us who actually passed the bar, kid,” he’d sneered.

The rest of the room had laughed along awkwardly, but Jordan felt every word sting.

Now the summer was over, and he could almost taste the freedom of law school ahead. Almost. First, there was the matter of the conference.

Jordan’s last official task as an intern was to attend the firm’s annual legal conference with none other than Angelo himself. Three days in a plush hotel, surrounded by some of the biggest legal minds in the state, and Angelo was going to make sure it was unbearable. But this time, Jordan had a plan.

--

The conference hotel was grand, the kind of place where you could lose yourself in the luxury and forget about everything else—at least, if you weren’t sharing the experience with Angelo.

From the moment they arrived, Angelo took center stage. He boasted about his cases at the networking events, hogged the attention at panels, and made crude jokes to anyone who got close enough to hear them. By the time the second day rolled around, Jordan was already at his limit. He had a single goal in mind for the evening: put his powers to use.

That night, they were at the hotel bar, Angelo already half a bottle of whiskey in, his voice booming as he told some exaggerated story about how he had “single-handedly” saved a client from bankruptcy. Jordan smiled thinly from the stool beside him, sipping his beer, eyes flicking toward Angelo’s glass as the liquid swirled inside.

Jordan had a secret, something Angelo had no clue about. He had powers, powers he hadn’t revealed to anyone at the firm. With just a little focus, he could turn people into skin suits—empty shells of their former selves, which he could wear and control like a costume. Jordan rarely used this ability, but for Angelo, he was willing to make an exception.

Angelo drained his glass and slammed it on the bar, his face flushed with booze. “Alright, time for another round! You ready, kid?”

Jordan glanced at him. “I think you’ve had enough, Angelo. You don’t look so good.”

“Pssh. You’re just jealous I can hold my liquor. Gotta be a real man to do that.” Angelo stood, swaying slightly, but immediately waved off any offer of help.

“You sure about that?” Jordan said, getting to his feet. He placed a hand on Angelo’s shoulder, just enough to steady him and activate his power. Angelo wouldn’t notice the change yet, not until it was too late.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Angelo muttered, but there was a slight wobble in his voice. “Let’s get back to the room. I need to lay down for a minute.”

Jordan suppressed a grin. “Sure. Let’s get you back.”

--

Once inside the hotel room, Angelo collapsed onto the bed, groaning. “Must’ve been something I ate,” he mumbled, his face pale, eyes shut tight.

Jordan calmly shut the door, locking it behind him. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you out.”

Angelo tried to sit up, but something was happening. He couldn’t quite place it, a deep discomfort spreading through his skin. “What the hell…?”

His voice faltered as his limbs began to weaken, skin becoming loose and rubbery. Panic flickered in his eyes as he looked down at his arms. They were shrinking, collapsing inward like deflated balloons. “Jordan… what the… what’s happening to me?”

“You’ll be fine,” Jordan said, walking toward him. “Just relax. You’ve had a long summer.”

Angelo's protests turned into garbled noises as his body gave way, softening completely. Within moments, he was nothing more than an empty skin, a suit lying crumpled on the bed, a blank, lifeless replica of himself.

Jordan stood over the hollow Angelo and smiled. He picked up the suit, feeling the weightless form in his hands. The arrogance, the cruelty, all of it was gone. Now, Angelo was nothing but a tool. A new skin for Jordan to wear.

He slipped into the suit effortlessly, feeling the rush of taking on Angelo’s form. His body molded into the lawyer’s, the familiar muscles and sharp jawline of Angelo’s face now his own. He walked to the mirror, admiring Angelo’s physique, enjoying the reflection.

“This summer’s gonna be fun.”

Jordan sat on the bed, pulling out his phone and opening the dating app he hadn’t touched since the start of the summer. It was something Angelo would use, wasn’t it? A guy like him had no shortage of charm or people interested in the well-polished lawyer with a lifestyle to match. Jordan’s thumb hovered over the screen, the pictures and profiles passing by quickly until one caught his eye.

Max. Fit, stylish, and close by. The bio was simple: “Looking for a good time. Let’s make it memorable.” Jordan, still in Angelo’s skin, smirked. Perfect.

He swiped right, and almost immediately, there was a match.

Within minutes, Max had messaged him: “What are you up to tonight?”

Jordan typed back quickly, leaning into the persona of Angelo as much as possible: “Staying at the Marriott downtown. You should come over. I’ll get us some drinks.”

There was a pause, but it wasn’t long before the reply came: “Sounds like a plan. Be there in 30.”

Jordan grinned, the rush of anticipation making his heart race. He walked over to the hotel minibar, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and pouring two glasses. As he stood there, looking around the room, it struck him how surreal this all was—inviting a stranger over while pretending to be someone else entirely. But he couldn’t deny the thrill of it. This was a side of Angelo he’d never seen but could easily imagine—flings, no strings attached, and the confidence to pull it all off effortlessly.

--

A knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts. Jordan took a breath, steadying himself, then opened the door.

Max stood there, just as sharp and attractive as his profile suggested. He smiled, his eyes scanning Jordan—or rather, Angelo—with interest. “You must be Angelo.”

Jordan nodded, stepping aside to let Max in. “That’s me. Glad you could make it.”

Max walked in, glancing around the room before his eyes landed on the drinks. “Nice setup. Fancy.”

Jordan handed him a glass. “Only the best.”

They clinked glasses, and as Max took a sip, Jordan couldn’t help but observe the whole situation. He’d never been this bold before, never felt this in control. Maybe it was Angelo’s skin giving him that extra edge, or maybe it was the freedom of pretending to be someone who didn’t have to care about the consequences.

The conversation flowed easily, Max leaning against the hotel couch as they talked about the city, work, and the places they’d traveled. Jordan kept up the act, channeling everything he knew about Angelo into his responses. Max seemed impressed, clearly taken by the confident, smooth version of Angelo Jordan had crafted.

But as the night went on, Jordan found himself relaxing more. It wasn’t just about pretending to be Angelo anymore. There was something liberating about being someone else, someone who wasn’t afraid to take risks.

As the evening wound down, Max glanced at his watch, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Well, this was fun. But I’ve got an early morning.”

Jordan nodded, feeling a mix of relief and satisfaction. “Yeah, it was. Thanks for coming by.”

Max gave him a knowing look, then made his way to the door, pausing for a moment before turning back. “Let’s do this again sometime.”

Jordan smiled. “Maybe.”

As the door closed behind Max, Jordan let out a long breath. He collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, still wrapped in Angelo’s skin. The whole encounter had gone perfectly—smooth, seamless, just like Angelo would have handled it.

--

Jordan spent the first few days in Angelo’s skin navigating the law firm as if nothing had changed. Nobody batted an eye, not the coworkers who usually fawned over Angelo nor the interns he ignored. Being Angelo wasn’t hard—he had practiced Angelo’s condescending swagger for weeks before he put the plan into motion.

At the firm, it was business as usual. Angelo had a high-profile case that Jordan now had full control over, and thanks to his experience as an intern, Jordan knew how to keep up appearances. The only difference? Jordan was a better Angelo than Angelo had ever been. He wasn’t cruel or dismissive. Instead, he was sharp, methodical, and, surprisingly, more likable.

While everyone marveled at Angelo’s sudden shift in attitude, Jordan took full advantage of his new-found power. He enjoyed the attention, the lavish dinners, and the status that Angelo’s reputation granted him.

But when he wasn’t at work, Jordan was spending time with Anthony.

They had met at a café the first week Jordan took on Angelo’s life. Anthony was charismatic, laid-back, and totally different from the people at the firm. The attraction between them was instant, but the real surprise for Jordan was how much he enjoyed their time together. Being with Anthony was easy—Anthony found “Angelo’s” sudden kindness refreshing and had no idea that the man sitting across from him was really Jordan in disguise.

The summer drifted by faster than Jordan anticipated. Angelo’s life had become his own, and he’d mastered the art of faking it. But as August rolled around and law school approached, Jordan knew his time in Angelo’s skin was coming to an end. He couldn’t keep living this double life forever.

On the final day of summer, Jordan stood in front of the mirror one last time, looking at Angelo’s face. The real Angelo would never know what had happened, but he would feel the consequences for months, maybe even years. Jordan pulled at the collar of Angelo’s suit, his heart racing slightly.

He stood in front of the mirror, staring at Angelo’s reflection—strong jawline, neatly groomed beard, sharp eyes filled with an arrogance Jordan had learned to mimic all too well. But the time had come to shed the skin he’d worn for the summer, to let go of Angelo’s life and return to his own.

Jordan took a deep breath, fingers brushing against the smooth, taut skin of Angelo’s chest. He could feel the edges of the suit, where the fabric of another man’s existence began to peel away from his own. Slowly, carefully, he tugged at the seam beneath Angelo’s ear, the skin stretching and giving way like a second layer, still warm and lifelike.

The sensation was strange—like peeling off a tight wetsuit, but more intimate, more visceral. As he pulled the suit down over his shoulders, the air of the room hit his bare skin, cool and refreshing against the sweat that had gathered underneath. Angelo’s form, muscular and defined, slowly gave way to Jordan’s slimmer, more familiar build. The difference in weight, the change in posture—it was like shedding a burden he hadn’t realized he was carrying.

The suit continued to loosen and slide off in a fluid motion, inch by inch, as Jordan tugged it down past his chest and over his hips. The arms came free, then the legs, until Angelo’s skin finally slipped away entirely, pooling at his feet like a discarded costume. Jordan stood there, breathing heavily, his own body now exposed. Angelo’s empty skin lay crumpled on the bed, lifeless and hollow, nothing more than a shell of the man who had once worn it with pride.

For a moment, Jordan stared down at the deflated suit. It looked almost pitiful now, a far cry from the powerful figure Angelo had once been. He felt a twinge of satisfaction—he had lived in Angelo’s shoes, tasted his life, and now, he was leaving him humiliated in more ways than one.

Jordan turned back to the mirror, and for the first time in weeks, his own face stared back at him—sharp cheekbones, a mess of brown hair, and wide eyes that held a mix of relief and something else. Something conflicted.

He moved to the bed, grabbing the clothes he had worn when he first arrived at the hotel. The familiar texture of his jeans and t-shirt grounded him as he slipped into them, the fabric a little too loose compared to Angelo’s tailored suit. He buttoned his jeans, tugging his shirt into place, and ran a hand through his hair, feeling a mix of emotions settle in his chest.

Once dressed, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand and opened the camera. He stood in front of the mirror, tilting his head slightly and snapping a selfie. His own eyes stared back at him, and for the first time, he wasn’t sure if he was completely happy to see himself again.

Angelo would wake up in a few minutes, confused, with no memory of the last few months.

But Jordan would remember. And for him, that was enough.

As he packed his things and prepared to leave Angelo's home for the last time, Angelo's phone buzzed. A message from Anthony, asking when they’d meet up again.

Jordan smiled to himself. Maybe his summer wasn’t over just yet.

[fangirl-writes]

Smosh, Thongs, and Perfect Snogging

Shayne Topp x Fem!Reader

Warning(s): swearing, thongs, gets kinda spicy towards the end but nothing too smutty (making out, hickeys, butt-grabbing lmao)

Notes: This was a rabbit hole I didn’t expect to go down, but here we are.

Summary: you and Shayne have been keeping your relationship on the down low for a while, but as much as you keep sharing clothes, you're just begging to be caught.

“Sooooo," Courtney said, leaning up against your desk. "Who’s shirt are you wearing?”

You choked on your coffee, quickly turning away from your laptop so you could cough it out. “What?”

She grinned. “The shirt. It’s definitely not yours, so who’s is it?”

You wiped your mouth, blushing furiously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. The shirt’s mine.”

“Oh yeah?” She said, a challenging look in her eyes that made you want to run to the nearest exit. “Why’d you buy a men’s shirt that’s too big in the shoulders and too long in the arms?”

“Uh…style?”

“Bullshit!” She exclaimed, laughing. “Come on, just tell me! Do I know him?”

“What’s going on over here?” Tommy asked, walking over to your desk with Amanda and Angela not far behind.

“Y/N’s wearing a guy’s shirt and she won’t tell me who’s it is,” Courtney explained.

You put your face in your hands. “Tell the whole team why don’t you…”

“Ooh, Y/N’s got a boyfriend,” Amanda teased with a waggle of her eyebrows.

You didn’t deny the accusation (which was true), so they egged on further.

“Where’d you guys meet?”

“When did you start having sex?”

“Do you borrow his clothes often?”

“Is he big?”

“Oh my god, you guys!” You shouted, burying your burning face into your knees. “Can we drop it?”

“Only because we have a shoot to do,” Courtney said. “When we get back I expect all the details.”

You frowned at her as the three of them retreated from your desk.

“They bothering you?”

You looked over and felt yourself relax. Shayne was standing there with a grin, hands tucked awkwardly into the front pockets of his jeans.

“Well, they seem to think I’m wearing a guy’s shirt,” you said with a small smile. “Can’t possibly know what they’re talking about.”

Shane chuckled, glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention, and kissed you on the forehead.

It had been a bit of a running joke between you for a while, but you usually managed to sneakily wear something of the other’s around the office without anyone noticing.

While Shayne’s generally had to be smaller (he’d look pretty obvious wearing one of your shirts), you had more of a selection.

You wore his denim jacket, he wore your fuzzy socks. You wore one of his snapbacks, he wore one of your bracelets. You wore his crewneck, he wore one of your necklaces. You wore his beanie, he wore your belt. You wore his flannel, he wore your sweatpants.

It had been going on for a while, but Shayne’s button-up was the one getting the attention.

“Wait ‘til they find out I’m wearing your underwear,” Shayne whispered.

You blushed. “You are not.”

Shayne grinned, walking away from you towards set.

“Shayne, you are not!” You called after him.

He just laughed.

You dropped yourself back into your chair with a huff.

You and Shayne had been seeing each other on the down low for a while, not feeling comfortable to come forward about it just yet.

It was one thing if the relationship was going strong for a while and it was someone who didn’t work on the crew, but this was still new territory and keeping it to yourselves would make it less awkward if things happened to not work out.

Plus you were pretty sure Shayne liked the rush of sneaking around; stealing kisses when a space was empty (rare), going with you to pick up coffee or props (occasionally), staggering the way you entered the building when you rode to work together (nearly always).

And you could admit that it was pretty fun sharing secret glances or dirty looks that read “I’ll get you back for that later.” But trying to lie to your friends about stuff when they asked was hard.

Still, you could deal with it for now if it meant you could keep your little secret for a bit longer.

“No way!”

You snapped out of your daze, turning from the script you’d been editing as the shouts from set grew louder.

It was a TNTL shoot so nothing unusual about the loudness but something this time drew you towards it.

Saving what you were working on, you got up and went to see what the fuss was about.

You nearly died on the spot when you recognized the hot pink thong that you usually kept tucked safely away in your drawer at your apartment sticking to Shayne’s ass.

Granted, it was mostly covered by his pants but there was still plenty showing, as it was pulled up by the sides probably as far as he could get it.

Keith was in the hot seat but everyone had come out from behind the divider to see this.

“Oh my god,” was thrown around a lot.

Shayne looked pretty proud of himself for this one, a smug look on his face.

“Where did you even get these,” Courtney asked, incredulous.

“Bought them just for this.”

Lie.

He made quick eye contact with you, and you could tell he was trying not to burst into laughter again and give you away.

They fell into the usual outro spiel so you walked back to your desk to start working again before the girls could come finish interrogating you.

Suddenly, however, you found it hard to focus on editing.

It was a Beopardy video so it should be easy for you (you’d edited a hundred of them) but you couldn’t help but notice Shayne’s outfit.

It was a normal one: white shirt, khakis, jacket. But what caught your eye was your necklace that was dangling around his neck.

It was a (first initial) necklace that you’d had for years and, as far as you knew, no one had commented on it the day he wore it.

You felt an odd mix of emotions about this subtle “claim” of him, an obvious but quiet declaration of your relationship that nobody had questioned.

At least, not yet. The video wasn’t posted yet and fans had a way of deducing things about the Smosh team’s private life that they weren’t super comfortable with (whether true or not).

“Y/N!”

You screeched as Damien slammed his hand down on your desk.

“Don’t do that!” You chided, taking off your headphones.

He and Shayne had both gathered at your desk and were smiling, which was suspicious enough.

“What’s this I hear about you wearing a guy’s shirt?” Damien asked.

Damn it, Courtney.

“It’s my shirt,” you defended, going with your original excuse.

Shayne’s grin widened slightly over Damien’s shoulder.

“Well, let’s just see then,” he said, walking over and grabbing the collar of the shirt. “Calvin Klein, nice. Your guy’s got good taste in shirts.”

You frowned and pushed him away.

“Shayne, don’t you have a shirt exactly like that?” Damien asked.

You sucked in a breath.

“Yeah, I do,” Shayne replied. “We must shop at the same stores, Y/N. Maybe I’ll run into him. Maybe I know him.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do you guys have nothing better to do than bug me?”

“As a matter of fact, we don’t.”

You groaned. “Go bug someone else, please. I’m trying to get this video done.”

“You sure?” Damien asked. “Because when I came over here it sure looked like you were enthralled with Shayne’s muscles.”

“Oh, grow up,” you said, watching as Damien scurried away before you could swat at him.

Shayne, on the other hand, not afraid of a swatting, shoved something into your palm below the desk before following Damien.

Confused, you looked down at your hand to find your pink thong in all its glory and a note from Shayne that said, ‘sorry for stealing them. Maybe you can punish me later ;)’

You blushed again and shoved them into your bag before trying to get back to work, which had become nearly impossible now.

You finally got the video done by the time everyone was wrapping up for the day, and good thing, too, because you were ready to get the hell out of there.

“Hey, you need a ride home?” Shayne asked, casually.

You usually “ubered” to work, so it wasn’t unusual for someone to offer you a ride.

It also wasn’t unusual that it was mostly Shayne.

“That’d be great,” you replied brightly.

“Ooh! See if you can pull any more information about this guy out of her,” Courtney said, hanging over Shayne’s shoulder. “We’ve already got that he’s blond, works out, and is a white man.”

“Well, damn, Courtney, that could be half the guys in California,” Shayne joked.

“I know, that’s why your mission” -she poked him in the cheek- “is to get something else out of her.”

“I’ll do my best,” Shayne said, waving Courtney off before turning back to you. “Ready?”

If anyone was paying attention, they just might’ve seen the way you looked at each other and figured you out.

But since no one was, you walked out of Smosh Headquarters after another day of fooling your friends.

“Who do you think will find out first?” You asked when Shayne started driving towards your apartment (which was a little closer than his).

He hummed thoughtfully. “Probably Courtney. She’s got this whole sleuthing thing going on about your guy.”

You hummed. “Damian’s like your best friend, though, surely he’s noticed something different.”

“He hasn’t asked but he does think I’ve been seeing somebody and I’m not ready to introduce her to my friends yet,” Shayne replied.

You nodded. “We’ll have to come clean soon, you know.”

He reached over and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it.

It was a simple gesture that he did often but it made your stomach flutter each time.

“I know.”

You rode in silence for a while, Shayne holding your hand. You guys hadn’t really discussed how you would tell everyone about your relationship but you knew the conversation was looming now that questions had been raised by your friends/coworkers.

Neither of you were ready for it just yet.

Shayne pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex and found a spot easily, which seemed to be a superpower of his.

“Shay,” you said hesitantly, squeezing his hand and stopping him before he could leave the driver’s seat. “How are we going to tell them?”

Shayne bit his lip before speaking. “How about we just… let them find out? Stop all the sneaking around and see who sees first? Then we can explain.”

“Okay,” you replied. “I think that’s a good idea.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your temple before you both got out of the car.

A memory surfaced and you brightened as you guys got into the elevator.

“You know,” you said. “There’s still a punishment in order for what you did to my poor pink thong.”

Shayne blushed but you also saw the way his eyes darkened in anticipation. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you reached over and grabbed his ass before whispering in his ear. “You’ve been a naughty boy.”

Shayne suppressed a moan and watched anxiously for the elevator to hit your floor.

You sneakily leaned over and began kissing his neck, sucking small marks into his skin. An obvious claim this time.

One of his hands landed on your waist and a sound bubbled from his throat that spurred you on.

Sure, this was an elevator with a camera, but people had done much worse things in it.

Still, you weren’t keen on punishing your boyfriend in the elevator and eagerly pulled him along when the doors opened on your floor.

Shayne’s hands wandered as you fumbled with the keys to get your apartment door open.

You would hope nobody walked by, but that was a concern far from your mind at that moment as you pushed open the door and pulled Shayne inside, only to press him up against it as it closed.

Shayne relished in your control as you held his hands above his head and slid your tongue in his mouth.

He hummed into your kiss and chased your lips when you pulled away.

"Ah, ah, ah," you said with a silly waggle of your finger. "This is a punishment, remember?"

He groaned. "I'm gonna hate this, aren't I?"

You chuckled, pulling him towards your bedroom. "Next time, ask to wear my thong, and you might get a reward."

"How soon can I take you up on that offer?"

***

“Holy shit, dude!” Damien said. “How many hickeys did this girl give you?”

Shayne was cursing under his breath.

You knew this was going to happen, and he’d fallen for it like an idiot. A horned-up, desperate-for-his-girlfriend idiot.

You knew he was supposed to shoot today, but now they were going to push those videos back because it wasn’t going to work when his neck and collarbone were covered in bruises.

“Long story,” Shayne said.

Not a lie; it definitely would be.

“Oh, come on, you can’t say this is yours!”

The boys looked over to where Courtney was hovering around your desk again this morning.

You were wearing Shayne’s shirt from yesterday, and he nearly made you both late for work when he saw you in it.

You shrugged.

“Oh, come on!” Courtney almost whined. “It doesn’t even fit you! If you didn’t want me asking about it, then why’d you wear it!”

You shrugged again.

It was driving Courtney insane.

"Hey, Y/N, did you get that footage I sent over?" Anthony asked, appearing seemingly out of nowhere at your desk.

You nodded. "Yeah, I saw it in my email this morning. I can probably get that cranked out and sent back to you by the end of the day if you need it."

"That'd be great, but no rush. Just do your thing."

He paused, face contorting as he looked you up and down.

Courtney noticed that he noticed and hurried to get Anthony in on the gossip: “I know! She’s-“

“Why are you wearing Shayne’s shirt?”

Her sentence died on her tongue and Damien’s mouth dropped open.

“Shayne’s shirt?” she squeaked.

“Yeah, he wore it in the sketch yesterday. Ian sent me a picture of the thong thing- Y/N, why are you wearing his shirt?”

Your face was on fire, and Shayne, it seemed, had stopped functioning.

You could see the pieces clicking together in Damien’s mind as he connected the hickeys to the shirt.

“No,” he said, mouth still wide open. “You guys are-“

“Shayne’s shirt??” Courtney repeated, flabbergasted.

“Um…surprise?” You said, grinning sheepishly.

“How could I have missed that?!” Courtney shouted. “It’s so obvious now! You two are always staring at each other and shit! Gah!”

You laughed awkwardly, avoiding everyone's gaze.

"And you!" Courtney said, pointing a finger at Shayne. "How could you not tell me about this! I need details right now!"

"Courtney, quiet down, you're going to let the whole office know-"

"Oh, I'm gonna tell the whole office! She's been parading around in your shirts for everyone to see!"

You put your head in your hands, regretting every decision that's brought you to now.

Well, except for dating Shayne. Because while Courtney was raving and Damien was laughing, he was looking at you to see if you were okay.

You smiled softly, giving him a small nod.

He smiled back before jumping into normal Shayne mode and ripping right back on Courtney. "You had me try and find out, too! You asked her boyfriend to find out who her boyfriend was!"

You watched them amusedly as the commotion began bringing others around to see what was unfolding.

It wasn't until he cleared his throat that you remembered Anthony was still standing there.

“So,” he said. “Was the thong yours?”