#Yay my fist post

[kennedysbaby]

be my angel

content: re4r leon x female reader. domestic fluff. making out. established relationship. angst elements. author's note: inspired by the mazzy star song! the lack of leon kennedy fluff is concerning. also first time posting on tumblr yay.

₊⊹⁀➴ ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55001149

if it weren't for you, leon probably would've lost his mind a long time ago. you were so sweet, so gentle, so understanding—he sometimes questioned if he even deserved someone as unscathed as yourself. it was comforting dating a regular civilian, someone who wasn't exposed to the daily nightmares he faced in his line of work. being so blissfully ignorant to the horrors of the world was a luxury he no longer afforded, never did. 

leon hated the sad look that'd cross your perfect features as he left for one of his gruesome missions, that last goodbye kiss that had him tightly gripping the steering wheel as he pulled out of the driveway, the asphalt crackling beneath the tires. the fact that he couldn't tell you much about said missions, given their classified nature, only made him more upset—it felt like wordlessly forsaking you for one-to-two weeks at a time.

oh, but the sweet expression you'd have on your face as you twisted the metal doorknob, the way it lightened up at the mere sight of him. it had leon's chest tightening and breath hitching, wanting nothing more than to pull you into a long, hard kiss. you had him acting a fool, needless to say. 

tonight was a little different, though. the digital clock on the dashboard read 12:47 am, causing leon to scoff lightly under his breath. he disliked coming home late, knowing most likely that you were probably up, huddled on the couch with thick blankets wrapped around you, wishing it was his arms keeping you warm instead. 

leon's gaze then drifted back up towards the heavy rain thrashing vehemently against the ground, the deafening silence disrupted by the droplets pattering against the window and the swiping of the windshield wipers doing their job, giving him a clear view of the road ahead. he was still a good twenty minutes away from home, and that fact alone makes him press his foot against the gas a little harder, damning any traffic laws at the moment. 

though, crashing the car in an attempt to see you sooner was a bit counterintuitive—and he'd be seeing god, if anyone.

once leon finally pulled up to the quaint little townhouse the two of you owned together, he parked the car, pulling the keys out of the ignition and shoving them into the pocket of his black cargo pants. with a soft sigh, he quietly shut the car door, and walked up the steps to the front door. the rain had calmed down a bit, simply drizzling now. 

knock, knock, knock . his fisted hand gently rapped against the door a few times, but to leon's dismay, he still hadn't heard your footsteps leading up to him. it then hit him that it was one in the morning, and it was more than likely that you'd fallen asleep—possibly from staying up for him. a frown creased onto his lips, upset with himself for coming back so late. even if it wasn't his fault, he still felt guilty. despite how much you reassured him, leon always thought you could a whole lot better than him.

reluctantly, leon pulled his set of house keys out of his pocket, and slid the metal through the lock, opening the door with a click . inside was dark, quiet…yet peaceful. as he padded across the area, the floorboards lightly creaking beneath his feet, he took notice of how clean it was; someone had used their time wisely, he thought with a smile. well, either that, or you had just gotten so bored out of your mind waiting for him. he was well aware of how antsy you'd get on the days you knew he was coming back.

leon was also now aware of how disappointed you probably were now, seeing as he came back far later than anticipated. 

that's when his eyes land upon you, snoring away softly on the sofa, and—just like he imagined—curled up beneath a warm, knitted blanket. the open tv cast a soft glow across the tidy living room, alongside a few warm-scented candles you had lit. that, alongside the rhythmic thrumming of the rain against the windowpane, made for a very cozy atmosphere. leon took careful steps towards the couch, kneeling down in front of you. 

"i'm sorry, angel," leon mumbled, his voice soft as to not wake you up. he brushed a few stray strands of hair behind your ear, the contrasting feeling of his calloused fingers against your soft skin roused you a bit, causing you to stir in place. leon chuckled at your tired grumbles, pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead. 

the kiss is what fully wakes you up, instantly jolting upwards, sitting yourself upright. the blanket rustles around you as your sleepy eyes widen, registering the fact that your boyfriend—that you hadn't seen in two weeks—was right in front of you, giving you the softest smile. "leon?" you muttered, still in disbelief.

"go back to sleep baby, we can talk in the morning," he said, peppering gentle kisses across your face. your skin burns beneath his lips, any feelings of exhaustion slowly slipping away. if leon really wanted you to go back to sleep, he damn well knew better than to act all sappy like this.

"no, no, no," you quickly—and incoherently—mumbled, blinking a few times to adjust your eyesight, "it's okay, i'm not sleepy. i was waiting on you anyway," that's when you started to excitedly ramble, "i just…forget about me, what kept you so long?" you raised a curious eyebrow. "something bad happened?"

"nah," leon shook his head, still smiling—god, it felt so good seeing you after so long. "writing up that report took a little longer than anticipated. i'm really sorry, pretty." his smile then shifted into a frown, a soft sigh escaping from the depth of his lungs. "so sorry," he whispered as he kissed your lips for a quick second. 

the look of pure anguish contorted on his sharp features sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. despite how tired you were, seeing leon look so upset over the fact that he couldn't see you sooner made your mind dizzy with love. 

"that's okay. it happens. i understand." you replied honestly. you were aware of leon's job before getting wrapped up in a relationship with him. and you also knew just how much this man loved you, even if he couldn't see how amazing he was. flaws were human, you'd tell him. people tended to forget that—leon might be a zombie-killing machine, but deep down, he was only a man. one with feelings and emotions. 

dating leon made you feel like such a special girl. he was a closed-off, reserved man. just one quick look at him and you could tell that he most definitely could kill a man with his bare hands alone—if he wanted to, that is. he was cold, intimidating, and brutal on the field. but you didn't see that side of him. 

no, you saw a total sweetheart. in your presence, leon was a complete softie. it was actually quite adorable seeing him sleepily pouring himself a cup of coffee at the crack of dawn, dressed only in loose pajama pants, his chiseled abs put on display just for you . his blonde hair framed his face so perfectly, the soft strands falling in front of his face. despite being a total fucking unit, having biceps nearly bigger than your face, he was so gentle with you, treating you as if you were a porcelain doll. 

at least, he tried to be, but sometimes he got a little… carried away .

you were the person who got to see him leaning over the bathroom sink, holding a razor to the lower half of his face, shaving away the light stubble that had formed after neglecting the duty for a few days simply because he got too lazy. you saw him narrowing his eyes at the god awful instruction booklet that came with ikea furniture as he attempted assembling a new bookcase. you loved the way he would sometimes squint while looking at something afar, then claiming he "didn't need glasses" when you pointed it out. 

it was so raw, so real. 

leon just sighed, shaking his head in disbelief, "you do realize you are too sweet for your own good sometimes, right? you should be upset i was late, i promised i'd be home for dinner." he chuckled dryly, climbing onto the sofa and taking a seat right next to you, sitting above the comforter. 

"i dunno what i'd do without you," his gaze was trained on you, admiring how pretty you were in this state—with messy hair, half-lidded eyes, and puffy cheeks. "i love you so much." would it be too awkward to mention that he'd marry you in a heartbeat at this time of night? probably.

you can only laugh in response, trying to downplay how much his words were affecting you. "you're so corny. i love you too, lee." yeah, if he was so corny, then why was your heart beating of your chest?

leon was being dead serious, even if his execution made it seem like he was just playing around. you were his light in the darkness, his sole comfort amidst his disastrous life.

he slid his brown leather jacket off, letting it fall to the ground. your eyes fall to his arms and how yummy they look in his compression shirt. would it be weird to say you just wanted to take a bite out of them sometimes? lovingly, of course. "i missed you," leon mumbled, his own voice taking on a sleepy lilt. 

"me too." you shook your way out from beneath the thick blanket, scooting closer to your precious boyfriend. you cradle his cheeks with your hands, smiling as you stared into his icy blues. his eyes really were to die for, you could just get lost in them sometimes. he leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. you go in for a kiss, soft lips meshing with his chapped ones. 

the action elicits a soft, content sigh from leon, his big hands running up and down your back above your thin tank top as the two of you stayed like that for a few moments, lips moving against one another languidly. your chest presses up against his, sending a pleasant rush through leon's veins. when you two pull away for air, a bit breathless and frazzled, you can only marvel at the sight of him before you.

his lips were parted, taking slow and deliberate breaths, his pale cheeks now a little rosy, and his tired eyes now glazed with lust, drunk on your lips alone. you chuckle softly, your hands still cradling his cheeks as you brush your thumb over his bottom lip. he kisses the tip of it, allowing you to slid it between his lips for a split second. it's so awfully intimate, causing waves of satisfaction to wash over leon. 

that's when you plunge right back in, this time your tongue slipping past his lips, interlocking with his. he moans so softly, his hands roughly gripping your hips, drawing out a sigh of your own. leon mutters hoarsely, "you're too good for me, sweetheart. way too good. what did i do to deserve you?" he's still so in disbelief that a precious thing like yourself is all his .

this causes you to part again, a slight look of confusion crossing your features. "are you serious, leon? what didn't you do?" you shake your head, sighing. "you're way too hard on yourself, baby. i swear, i've never had a man that's as perfect as you before, regardless of what you might think. you deserve this. you deserve everything after what you've been through." 

you loop your arms around him tightly, hugging him as your bury your face in his chest. your thumb traces little circles on his back, as you whisper, "don't ever think you aren't enough." that was a little something you'd picked up on in the three years you'd been dating leon. he was very unsure of himself. he didn't deem himself worthy of love, no less the amount you poured out for him.

"i love you, in all your blonde glory," you chuckled, not wanting to sound too deep, even if your words carried an incredibly heavy weight.

leon couldn't help but feel a swell of emotions all at once, instinctively holding you even tighter, pulling you close and never wanting to let go of you. not even for a single second. "you're so corny," he mocked, letting out a light laugh as he pressed a kiss on top of your head. god, you fit him just like a puzzle piece.

"it's all your fault, asshole. you started it." you grin, lifting your head up from his chest, and leaning into kiss his perfect lips again. 

"hmm," leon mumbled, a low chuckle erupting from his throat, "guess that's too bad, then." 

finally, after kissing him for a good several minutes, taking labored breaths through your nose, you pulled apart, a thin trail of your mixed saliva following suit, now dripping down your chin. you chuckled, wiping it away with the back of your hand. your hips shift a bit suggestively as you climb off of his lap, causing leon to inhale sharply. 

"you need a shower. i'm going to bed." is what you say with a snicker as you turn on your heel, padding across the wooden floors to your shared bedroom. leon just scoffs, and shakes his head, watching as you stumble away from him.

"that's not fair." he grumbled to himself, his hands falling to his thighs.

he did tell you to go back to sleep earlier, though. damn it. 

[39472034658449305249465224devils]

the opening cutscene is fire (no pun intended) seriously one of my favorite "you actually let the ds play a cutscene when you open the app" type cutscenes ever its so pretty

i need to go to bed, but, it's there :3c

[princessbrunette]

bbf!jj was at your beck and call. reluctantly.

you were lucky he didn’t have any plans on this particular saturday night — infact for once he wasn’t even with your brother when he got the call, lounging on his own couch with a bag of chips and a controller on his lap when he presses the phone to his ear to see what you wanted.

“yeeeeello?” he greets, picking out residue chip from his teeth.

“jj! yay you picked up— okay so, this guy was supposed to drive me home from this party but he ended up getting wasted and now i’ve got no ride home… please come n’get me? please please — n’don’t tell my brother he gets all annoying and judgy—”

the mention of another guy pricked jj’s attention, his brow raising.

“uhhhhh, kinda like… preoccupied right now…” he makes no effort to move, staring ahead at the pause screen on his game before pressing his lips together, the image of you stood alone outside a party all lost and frightened filling his mind like a cloud of poor judgment before he sighs. “yeah i’ll come getcha. text me the addy, okay?”

jj rolls up twenty five minutes later, looking absolutely delectable to your slightly wine-tipsy self and you can’t help the big grin that spreads across your face when he hops out his side of the car to open your door.

“a gentleman.” you tease with a giggle and he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck before stumbling back over to his own side.

“yeah, sum’n like that.”

the streets are oddly empty for a saturday night as jj cruises along, glancing at you as you stare happily at his profile. “you uh, good over there, trouble?”

“mhm… thanks for coming to get me jj…” he feels almost preyed on, seeing you bat your lashes through his peripherals. this only ever ended one way with you, and it filled him with guilt for his closest confidant. god, he was really gonna bone his best friends little sister again— wasn’t he?

“‘mean i always do. s’like our thing at this point… y’know when you hit my phone i know it’s gonna be one of two things. you need’a ride, or… you need’a ride… y’know like, on me.”

“sometimes both…” you are unmoved by his slight accusatory tone, perhaps you don’t even notice it due to your own lust and slight intoxication.

“w—yup. sometimes both.” he glances at you. “is that… what’s goin’ on tonight? or…”

that’s how you end up cramped in the backseat with your knees practically pinned at your tits and jj’s head between your thighs, ravenously devouring you off some empty side street. he was a little pissed. how he’d ended up like this, not even getting anything for himself was beyond him. his love for eating pussy betrayed him, but he couldn’t really complain listening to your pretty moans as he suckles on your clit and curls his fingers up inside— hurrying you towards a thunderous orgasm.

actually — he could complain.

right as you’re about to cum, jj lifts his head suddenly from beneath your dress — slick coating his lower face and a slight irritation to his brow.

“so what am i like just — like, a taxi or somethin’? who is this other guy anyway— the dude that was supposed t’drive you home? sounds like a douche—”

“jj!” you mewl, practically sounding like you were on the verge of tears. “was about t’cum!”

“my bad but real quick if you could just answer the— nope, okay—” he flinches as you weakly throw your fists at wherever you could reach, shoving him back down between your legs. “yes ma’am.” he mutters, before getting back to work.

when the two of you arrive back to your house in silence after the ordeal, hair and clothes a little mussed and disheveled from the backseat shenanigans — the curse of terrible timing strikes, and your older brother opens the front door before you get the chance, stepping out for a smoke.

“the fuck?” he doesn’t seem too alarmed, perhaps in the dark not noticing the clear post sex image projected onto the two of you.

“hey! big bro!” you squeak, overcompensating.

“howdy dude uh — your lil sis here she uh—” jj claps a hand down platonically on your shoulder as you go to speak over him with an explanation.

“he was just passing through and—”

“i saw her leavin’ some place alone n’couldn’t let that happen. drove her right on home. you better get straight to bed, missy.” jj scolds lightheartedly and now you’re avoiding everyone’s eyes, nodding as you squeeze through the two guys.

“mhm. goodnight!”

your brother watches you leave as he digs in his sweatpant pocket for his lighter, before turning his gaze back onto jj — who stands with wide eyes and pursed lips, still as a statue.

“whatever.” he shrugs tiredly, before moving past the blonde to walk down the drive to his usual smoking spot.

[loveandleases]

Cam and MC marrying without telling anyone except Aunt Em and G (they're the witnesses), just going to sign the papers, celebrate and then posting a pic of their hands doing a heart showing off the golden rings 💍

Chris 💩 and Co reaction?

Yay for angst. (I only did a reaction for Chris and Jade because any more trash and I’d owe a disposal fee. 😏) 💩 Chris: Pacing, they're pacing. Over and over to the point their feet ache and they worry the carpet will begin to show the signs of their frenzy. How many times have they looked at that photo? Five, no, ten? It's not enough, it's never enough. Chris growls, fist clenched as they slam it against their door, in hope that this pain will outweigh the hollow ache in their chest. It doesn't work. It never fucking works. It burrows, deeper, trying to claw its way out of their throat, threatening to spill over in wet, humiliating tears. "How could they..." The words die on their lips, heavy and jagged. The fight to say them is too pathetic, too painful. Another punch, another clench of teeth. The stinging pain in their hand begging for attention, denied once more. Denied like the acknowledgment of the ache that's tearing them up inside.

"Think, think damn it," Chris' voice shakes, an edge of desperation leaking through as they begin to bite on their nails. Teeth pulling at the skins of their fingers like a nervous habit. "There's still time to have it annulled. I just need to get to them."

That's all Chris needs: time. Just enough to undo this mistake. Because it has to be a mistake.

I know you, I know.

Another wrinkle in Chris' otherwise perfect life. Wrinkles that started when you showed up. When you wormed your way inside and made them feel things they weren't supposed to. Nothing is going to plan. 💀Jade -

She doesn’t say anything at first,her silence cuts far deeper than her words could.Instead, her attention drifts to her manicure. She stretches her fingers out, inspecting them with the utmost care. A cold smile pulling at her lips as her dark eyes take in their color. White, how fitting. For a moment, she wonders what you wore. White, doubtful. It's too classy for you. There—a slight chip at the edge of her acrylic. She clicks her tongue softly, an expression of disappointment entirely unrelated to the news she’s just heard. "Tsk. Can’t they do anything right?"

Internally, she seethes. It’s a slow, simmering fury, kept carefully beneath the surface. She’s not the type to explode; no, Jade’s anger is colder, more calculated. She ignores Chris’s pacing and furious glares as if they're no more than background noise. A tantrum, really. How hard is it to stay still, to know your place, to behave?

This isn’t just a problem for her—or even for Chris. It’s bigger than that. Chris is a Clarke. That name carries weight, meaning, power. And no matter how much Cam says he doesn’t care about it, the reality is, he’s tied to it and now so are you.

Externally, she behaves as though someone has told her there’s a chance of rain tomorrow. Actually, no—that’s not fair. She’d look more affronted by the rain.

There’s always a calm before the storm, that deceptive quiet that makes you think you’re safe. That’s the space Jade inhabits now, a porcelain veneer masking the storm beneath. She feels the challenge in this, the audacity of it. Always seeking to outdo her, to claim the spotlight. Just like before. Now, that simply won't do. Will it?

She rises smoothly, not sparing Chris so much as a glance. Let them have their tantrum, and the next one if it comes to it. Which it usually does. One of them has to handle the situation. With that thought, she reaches for her phone, her voice sickeningly sweet when she speaks. "Well, if it isn't my favorite..."

[toovaeloe]

maybe, baby!

you feel sick and your boyfriend automatically assumes you’ve got a bun in the oven because he has a debilitating case of baby fever

pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader

cw: mention of morning sickness and throw up (very light), Gojo (yes he is a content warning)

established relationship; fluff drabble

wc: 645

Satoru’s been pretty preoccupied the last few months, you’ve noticed.

First it was when he was lingering in the toy aisle of the store.

When you had pointed it out and teased him about it, called him a man child and all, he had scoffed with an equally playful smirk and fired back some jest.

But then you noticed it again when he dragged you to the baby clothing store while you two were shopping at the mall.

“Look!” He had beckoned you, hands pinching the socks of a pink bear onesie. His lips were wobbling in an exaggerated pout, his eyes watering as he turned to face you looking like he was about to ugly cry. Not that ‘ugly’ was really within his jurisdiction; he was the most ethereal ugly crier to the point it was almost irritating. But you couldn’t be irritated with him at the moment. Not with how adorable he looked so wistfully teary eyed right now.

“Look how little the feet aaaaarre!” He’d whine, thrusting his face into the crook of his elbow as a couple of sobs took him.

Needless to say you had to drag him out of the shop. But it was more like you guiding him out; patting him on the back and soothing him as he cried about how cute the tiny baby mittens were.

And one night you had come home to him sitting at the kitchen table with all the lights off, the only illumination the pale light of his screen on his face as he intermittently clicked the keyboard or scrolled. His eyes were laser-focused and unblinking as you peered over him to see what he was looking at,

It was an array of tabs; some of them overfilled carts on online catalogs of baby supplies and formula, others articles on symptoms of pregnancy, afterbirth, and postpartum depression…and Reddit..?

“r/pregnancy, how to comfort my wife when she hates my guts at 17 weeks pregnant” !?!??

Yeah. He admitted to mayhaps, perchance, having just a liiiiitttle baby fever. He did his best to not be too overbearing about it. But this is also Satoru Gojo we’re talking about.

One night while the two of you were simply cuddling in bed, arguing over if Levi Ackerman or Erwin Smith was better, you suddenly felt an odd wave of nausea. You’ve felt off all day…maybe you ate something bad and it gave you a stomachache?

No, you were going to throw up. Right now.

Satoru noticed the odd expression that had settled on your features, but before he could react you were already clambering out of bed and booking it toward the bathroom. He was there in a matter of seconds by your side as you hurled your guts into the toilet bowl, rubbing your shoulder and hushing you with gentle words and praise. But when you blearily looked over to him…he had the hugest grin on his face. You have no words.

’Fuck is bro smiling about!??

He didn’t acknowledge your dumbfounded expression, only beamed up and pumped his fists in the air.

“Yaaay! I’m so excited to be a dad!!!” He cheered.

He read on some online forum that morning sickness was a symptom of pregnancy and that it could happen practically any time in the day despite the name. This had to be it, right??

You sat there completely bewildered as he continued cheering ”Yay!!! yay, yaaaay!!!” Probably the happiest any man has ever been to witness his girlfriend hunched over a toilet bowl and spewing her guts.

You were still in shock as Satoru began rustling through your bathroom cabinet, pulling out— a box of pregnancy tests!? When did he even buy those—

“Here, sweets,” He’d usher it gently towards you with that goofy exuberant smile still plastered on his face.

“You should take one right now!”

a/n: I did say I was gonna post it awhile ago and completely forgot about it 😭! So here it is, Ü

i need gojo to disappear from existence— fr, he’s a disease i hate him sm

everyone have a great day!!

[k0yaz]

hiiii!!!! i’ve been your follower for a while now and i really like your works:> you’re one of my fav authors atm and i always find myself giggling and kicking my feet everytime you post something💞 can i also request a one shot with service top robin (hsr) x power bottom afab!reader? you don’t have to respond if you dont want to! i just wanted to try💞

my angel.

Pairings: robin x fem!reader

CW: nsfw, female reader, afab reader, power bottom reader, service top robin, sesbian lex hwhehhdhdeh, cunnilingus, jealousy mention, hair pulling, fingering, marking, GIRLS KISSING WOAH, wlw, petnames (love, angel), that pussy FIREEE DAMN, the way I wanna be reader so bad, wrote this with no tea so it might be bad :(, not proofread.

A/N: IM SCREAMING THATS ACTUALLY SO SWEET ILY IM SO HONORED TO BE CONSIDERED ONE OF YOUR FAVORITE AUTHORS YAY also everyone requesting the hsr characters im absolutely obsessed with do yall know something or am i just not slick about being obsessed with acheron and robin🕯️

“Is this alright?”

Robin’s sweet voice muffled against your soaked cunt, tongue lulled out as her emerald eyes flickered up at your arched form. Hands planted behind your back, you lowered your head to gaze upon your halovian girlfriend, whispering out a satisfied hum before threading your fingers through her hair.

“Mhm. Just like that.” You whispered, hushed voice attempting to bite back a moan from leaving you. Each swipe of her tongue massaging your clit elicited a pleased sigh spilling from your feverish lips, repeated motions of her tongue being engulfed by your hot walls driving you mad as your hips rolled up to meet her movements. Her movements only ignited a flame of desire within you—the desire to have Robin all to yourself.

The fact that your girlfriend was a famous idol always ate at your mind, especially whenever you could only imagine the filth that some fans of her mutter behind her back. Every quick glance cast at her by a random in her crowd never failed to make you tense up, your blood boiling especially whenever you saw one of them have evidently perverse intentions. However, Robin never failed to calm you down, reassuring you however she could. Including the way she was devouring you like a woman starved being one of them.

Her soft moans vibrated against your pussy, causing euphoric shocks to pulse throughout your quivering body as you threw your head back with a whine. Robin cocked her head to the side to angle herself perfectly against your cunt, fingers tightening into the supple flesh of your thighs as she parted them and allowed her tongue to flick against your heat.

“Just..like that..” you moaned out, balling your hand into a fist as it remained tangled in her lavender-tinted pale hair, earning a brief gasp from Robin. All of a sudden, she seemed to pull away from your cunt, leaving you utterly confused—and kind of empty as her head raised up to to meet yours, making your eyes widen a little upon coming nose to nose with her. Robin angled her head slightly, eyes fluttering shut as her lips locked with yours.

The velvety comfort of her smooth lips pressed onto yours, mixed with your own slick coating tongue made you nearly melt into her touch, an intense desire burning against your flushed skin. Your eyes abruptly shot open, grip on her hair tightening as you felt her soft fingers run along your slit in slow, tantalizing motions, causing you to choke back a lewd noise that threatened to spill out against her lips.

Pulling away, Robin’s eyes trailed down to your exposed neck, her heavy pants being cut short as her teeth pressed against the open spot. Your mind blanked as her fingers continued curling inside you, breaths coming out in quick gasps and shallow pants as your walls clenched around her fingers rhythmically moving inside you.

You barely drawled out a breathy laugh, moving your hands to rest against Robin’s shoulders, as the dim lighting above you grew blurry, and the satin sheets soaked with your juices. You basked in the pleasure of her fingers fucking you so well, and her bare body towered over you with her lips ghosting your throat.

“Ah- Robin, love…move a bit lower for me, would you?” You gasped, coaxing her shoulders downward, and signaling her to plant kisses all over your body.

Red marks bloomed against your skin with every hickey Robin imprinted onto your neck. Her groans filled the room each time she felt you clench around her digits, and saw the sight of your back arched up with your head thrown back in ecstasy. The way her kisses reverbated against your sensitive flesh only drove you over the edge, a familiar heat building up in your lower abdomen with each thrust of her fingers.

“Don’t keep me waiting, my angel.” You chuckled, only replacing it with another moan as she complied with your erotic command. Your eyes only squeezed shut as her movements grew rougher, fucking you into the sheets like you asked as you fisted the sheets between your free hand to ground yourself.

You briefly shot open one eye to look down at your girlfriend, her gaze meeting yours once more with heavy lidded eyes as she resumed her movements.

“No need to get jealous. I’ll give you whatever you need. I’ll reassure you as much as I can. You know that you’re the only woman for me.”

Her words ripped a whorish cry out of your throat as your head fell back and sank into the plush pillows, your orgasm washing over you and coating Robin’s fingers still buried in you.

Once you recovered from your high, you only smiled as she found her way beside you, snaking an arm around your torso protectively and kissing the back of your neck. You giggled at the ticklish sensation of her lips, turning around to press your nose to hers. All she wanted to do was make you happy, make you feel loved in any way possible.

And you would do the same just for her.

A/N: now playing: kehlani - jordan adetunji

sorry if it wasn’t up to par I didn’t have any tea 💔

[animasola86]

Lessons in Love-Making

Notes: So I received an amazing request recently and this is what I made of it! I hope you enjoy! (If you like to give me smut requests as well, please feel free to do so! My inbox is open!)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Fluff/Smut

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Explicit sexual content! Assisted masturbation. Voice kink. Fingering. Sex. (Infidelity?)

Word count: 9.8k

Synopsis: To say you and your boyfriend have a poor sex life would be an understatement. One day after a particularly horrible experience, you find yourself crying in the hallway. And then Sebastian finds you, always eager to lend a hand.

Warning: It's smut time again! Yay! I mean, beware, there's some spice below the cut! Don't get it in your eyes!

-- can be read on AO3 too --

Lessons in Love-making

You are tense. So tense, your entire body is shaking. Gritting your teeth and clenching your hands into fists as you walk through the empty hallway, you are not surprised when the first tears roll down your cheeks. Because you are not just tense, you are frustrated. And you've been frustrated for quite a while now.

It always comes to you when you walk back to your common room, in that post-haze clarity, not that there had been any haze, there was fog, sure, perhaps a few lightning bolts and one clap of thunder, and the rain that should be soothing was just a little drizzle, if it came at all.

And if you had time to think of silly metaphors for your poor sex life, then it really wasn't that good apparently.

You let out a shuddering sigh and stop walking, too wound up to wipe at your wet cheeks. Too wound up to do anything and so you sink to the ground and just sit there, trying to ease your breathing and your drumming heart, trying to clear your head and not think of what has happened and what has been happening over the last months.

Soon you are so focused on creating your own personal pro and con list, that you shriek loudly when you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder. You jump and hit your head against the wall behind you, looking up with wide eyes and your mouth open.

“Sorry, didn't mean to startle you.”

And just like that your mind is empty. His voice makes sure of that. And that smile. Yet all you do is stare, while the tears still stream down your face.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asks as he settles down next to you on the floor.

You let out a sob and raise a hand to wipe at your tears, before you give him a shrug and half-hearted grunt of confirmation. He raises an eyebrow and watches you closely.

“What happened?” he inquires with that low voice that causes your tense body to shudder deeply.

You swallow and look away, unable to answer him right away. Even though he's been your friend for quite some time now and you've shared a lot of low and high points together and you know you can tell him anything, you feel embarrassed to address your frustration.

You feel him scooting closer and then his hand is on your knee. “Did he do something?” he asks and just the implication that your boyfriend could have done something bad to you makes you turn your head.

“No!” you say quickly, before you pause and let out a dry laugh. “That's the thing, really... he never does... anything...”

Sebastian tilts his head, frowning slightly as his dark eyes wander over your face. “He doesn't satisfy you, eh?” he then states and the brutal straight-forwardness of his words makes you wince.

You don't answer right away and that is probably answer enough. Sighing deeply, you look down at his hand on your knee, feeling his warm touch and how it affects you. And you shouldn't feel like this. Because you have a boyfriend and it is not Sebastian Sallow. You would add sadly, but in truth you are quite content with the boy that asked you to be his girlfriend almost six months ago.

You love talking to him, you feel safe in his presence, he makes you laugh and happy. But when it came to sex, he was really... bad. And for months you've just dealt with it, not complaining, just trying to be happy for him because apparently it was quite enough for his liking. And the sad truth is that you've accepted feeling unattended whenever he would find his release – and then fall asleep right after. You didn't even mind the pain any more, because quite frankly, it was the only thing you could count on whenever you would end up in bed with him.

Tonight has been especially bad, causing your ever-growing frustration to burst through the seams of your patience. And the tears that won't stop flowing are proof of that.

“Please don't mention this to anyone,” you whisper and wipe at your cheeks again. “It... it really is not that big a deal...”

“Are you sure about that?” Sebastian asks and gently grabs your chin to make you look at him. “This does look like a big deal to me...”

You shake your head and his hand away, sobbing quietly. “I'm just frustrated and it's okay, it'll pass, like always. It's silly, really, crying over something like that...”

“It's not, you have needs too. Everyone has. And you shouldn't just be his plaything...” he tells you quietly, his voice vibrating through your very core.

“I'm not! You know he's not like that...” you start defending your boyfriend once more.

The boy next to you watches you closely. “Perhaps you want to be his plaything, but he just doesn't comply.”

“Stop saying plaything, it's vulgar!” you hiss.

He laughs, the sound ringing in your ears. “I can be more blunt, don't worry,” he says and nudges your knee before he leans away and crosses his arms behind his head. “So why don't you take care of your frustration yourself?” he then whispers, his eyes on you.

You stare at him, a little puzzled, before it dawns on you what he means. Averting your eyes, you blush deeply. “I... uh, tried, but it wasn't for me...” you admit eventually under your breath. “It doesn't feel right...”

“Then you may have done it wrong,” he says and leans closer again.

Swallowing hard, you raise your gaze and meet his. “I think I know my body and what it... wants...”

“Do you though?” he asks with a sly smirk.

“Well, of course, it's my body!”

“But then why are you crying in the hallway because your sorry excuse for a boyfriend can't satisfy you the way you like it, hm?”

His words hang in the air, luckily only reaching your ears, and you look at him long and hard. The longer you stare into those dark eyes that practically sparkle in mischief, the hotter you feel, your cheeks positively aflame as they burn your tears right off your skin.

“I can help you,” he then says quietly, and the implication alone makes you lean back from him.

“What? No! I... I have --”

“Yes, I know what you have,” he sighs and tilts his head. “And I'm not saying you should cheat on him with me, okay? I just want to... show you something. Help you out. Fight that frustration with you. Make you feel better.”

His promises sink into your mind and leave you wanting exactly that. You know how good he is at manipulating you, not that you would call it that, he was just very convincing. Persuasive even. And this was for your own good, wasn't it? Like he said, you have needs too. And as you wipe at your burning eyes, you find yourself inhaling deeply, before you nod shortly.

When you look at him, you see his face lighting up, the faint shadow of dimples gracing his freckled cheeks. “Of course this will be purely educational,” he tells you with a wink as he gets to his feet and holds his hand out for you to grab.

When you do and he pulls you into a standing position as well, you bite your lip and square your shoulders. “Of course,” you agree.

*

“So tell me what you usually do with him,” Sebastian asks as you sit down on that old couch in the far back of the dimly lit Undercroft.

You feel embarrassed, but then you sigh. “Well, we sit on his bed and then we... kiss and that's quite nice,” you start, already defending your boyfriend again, almost unconsciously. “And he would touch me...”

“Where?” the boy next to you inquires.

You look at your hands in your lap. “He usually gropes my breasts, sometimes my hips,” you whisper, before you look at him and he nods to make you continue. “Then he'd lie on top of me --”

“Are you naked when he does that?” You wince slightly at the bluntness of his question and look away again.

“No,” you admit, your ears burning. “He... doesn't like being naked...”

Sebastian laughs loudly at that, before clearing his throat. “I'm sorry, I...” he says a little breathlessly, before he shakes his head. “So you just grope each other through your clothes? But you do have sex, right?”

You blush deeply once more and fidget with your fingers. “Well, yes, he would push my underwear off and... stick it in...”

You hear him stifle another noise of surprise or whatever you want to call that gurgle that escapes his throat and you start feeling a little more frustrated, but for a different reason. “And then what?” you hear him ask once he catches himself again.

“He'd...” You let out a groan. “Tell me again why it is necessary to share these things with you?” you ask and stare at him.

“Well I have to know what you already do know in order to teach you more,” he tells you with a smile. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ridicule your boyfriend, I'm sure he has other redeeming qualities...”

“He has!” you confirm with narrowed eyes. “That's why I put up with that, okay?”

He raises his eyebrows, then nods. “I see. So, please, continue, tell me what exactly he does that leaves you so frustrated.”

You sigh and inhale deeply. “Well, he... comes very quickly. He's barely in there before he... grunts, pulls out and comes all over my stomach...”

“He doesn't even finish inside?” Sebastian exclaims in surprise.

“Because he shouldn't!” you reply a little more agitated than you've expected.

“Why not? You do take those contraceptive potions, don't you?” He tilts his head, looking genuinely concerned now.

“Yes, I do, all the girls do, we are basically forced to. Nurse Blainey makes sure of that...” you whisper.

“But then why doesn't he come inside you?” he asks as if you were talking about what to eat for breakfast and he was really appalled by your choice of cereal.

You take a sharp breath and look away. “I don't know, he probably doesn't like it...”

“I bet he never even tried...” you hear him whisper. “Trust me, it's the best feeling...”

You swallow and look at him. His smile is both boyishly charming and devilishly sultry. “So you know your stuff, eh?” you whisper under your breath.

He laughs. “I do, love,” he says with a wink. “And I'm going to teach you a thing or two. If you let me,” he adds quietly.

You are intrigued, certainly. And you've already shared all those embarrassing things with him. Talking about more couldn't possibly hurt, right?

But you haven't taken into account that Sebastian Sallow was more for learning by doing than anything, so you suddenly find yourself sitting sideways on the couch, your legs lying on his lap as he gently pushes your skirt up to reveal your underwear. Biting your lip, you watch him.

“So how would you normally touch yourself?” he asks as he looks into your eyes, making it sound so easy and simple as if he wanted to know your favourite colour.

You blush and look down, moving your hand between your legs slowly. “I'd... rub right here...” you whisper and put your middle finger against the thick fabric of your bloomers, lightly teasing your heated skin.

“No skin contact?” You shake your head and he huffs quietly. “Love, you have to give your body room to breathe, let the air caress your skin, put your fingers right in there, properly feel yourself. May I?” he then asks and you look up in surprise when he gently grabs your hand.

You nod hesitantly and watch how he moves your hand against your centre, repeating the motion you just made, guided by his slender fingers pressing against yours. “Remember this feeling, okay?” He then grabs the waistband of your underwear with his free hand and without hesitation pushes your hand beneath the fabric until you feel your fingers gliding over your hot, wet skin.

You gasp and almost jerk your hand away if he wouldn't hold it. You can feel not only your fingers, but his as well, as he presses your hand firmer against your skin. “How does that feel?” he whispers and his voice alone makes you issue a tiny whimper.

Taking a shuddering breath, you feel him letting go of your hand, before he puts his fingers around the waistband of your underwear and in a swift and unexpected motion pushes it down your hips and off your rear and legs, and you barely even noticed him raising your body for that. Too shocked about his brash action to fully react to it, you instead focus on your hand resting on your exposed mound, your fingers teasing at your folds. Your first instinct is to cover yourself with your other hand, but you hear him shushing you softly.

His hand is lying on your thigh now, his touch warm and somewhat comforting. You bite your lip and look at him. With a smile he tells you: “Come on, don't be shy, touch yourself.”

Oddly enough you don't feel shy at all in his presence, a little taken aback maybe, but not shy. And so you start moving your finger over your skin, exploratively, literally testing the waters as you let it slide over your lower lips and then between them. After just a few rubs, you feel your breath accelerating.

“You might want to move your finger a little higher,” he whispers, his voice not only helping you calm down under the unusual task he's given you, but also helping you in other ways that are quite the opposite of relaxing.

You follow his advise and move your fingertip higher until you feel the little nub that causes your stomach to tense slightly when you touch it. You breathe loudly through your nose as you push your finger against it and start rubbing slow circles around it. Closing your eyes you focus on the sensation, until you feel a warm breath near your ear.

“That's it, keep doing that,” Sebastian whispers right into your ear after he has leaned closer to you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your thigh. You open your mouth slightly and take a shuddering breath. “Feels good, right?” he continues, his voice causing goosebumps to ripple over your skin like waves. That or the steady movement of your finger. You feel your hips stuttering slightly, your thighs twitching with every push against that agitated bundle of nerves.

“Oh yes...” you moan softly and lean your head back, chewing on your lips as you work your finger against yourself. You feel a familiar tension, yet somehow it feels different, more intense, and you move harder and faster against that nub. As your body starts shaking badly, almost spasming, you feel his hand pressing on your thigh as if to calm you, or hold you in place, and in your desire to finally finish this you grab it with your free hand and close your fingers around his.

He holds onto your hand tightly and even scoots closer to you, lifting and parting your legs slightly as he does so, and then wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Almost there, love,” he whispers and you whimper under the sound of his voice, your eyes squeezed shut as you lean against him, furiously rubbing yourself. “You're doing so well,” he adds and his praise is what pushes you right over the edge.

You buck your hips and cling to his hand as you feel the coil that had been sitting in your stomach for so long, unattended and so tightly twisted it was almost painful, suddenly explode into a blindingly bright light. You gasp and cry out, your legs twitching as your toes curl up and you feel the blood rushing through your head while you hold your breath under the unknown feeling of your release.

As you slowly come down from your high, your fingers shaking against your heated skin, you feel him stroking your arm and squeezing your hand. “Well done,” he whispers and you feel his lips brushing against your hair. You are breathing heavily and when you open your eyes, you see him smiling at you. Your cheeks are flushed, your lips parted and trembling. You feel as if you've just run up several staircases.

“Was that your first orgasm?” he then asks and you just look at him, taking in his face, until the cold reality of the situation comes back to you. Blinking slowly, you squirm against him, but he holds you tightly, not letting you go.

“I... I shouldn't have --” you mutter under your breath, quickly looking away again, biting your lip.

“Oh you definitely should have, that was long overdue apparently,” he says quietly, shifting beneath you until he pulls you right onto his lap. You lean your shoulder against his chest and slowly look at him, fighting the embarrassment. “Don't be ashamed,” he whispers as he tilts his head, his dark eyes on you. “That was beautiful to witness.”

His words do the exact opposite of what he has intended, they don't reassure you, they make it worse. You look away with a hoarse groan, chewing nervously on your lips as you clamp your hands to your core and clench your thighs around them, too shaken still to think about just covering yourself with your skirt.

“Do you feel a little better at least?”

“A little,” you confess quietly.

“I'm sure there's more where that came from,” he then whispers, his lips right against your ear and you flinch and turn your head towards him with wide eyes.

“What do you mean?” you ask innocently, truly innocently because you just don't know any better.

He smirks at you. “You know, love, unlike men, who need a little time to gather themselves, women are capable of experiencing multiple orgasms in quick succession,” he explains almost matter-of-factly and you listen with blushed cheeks but growing interest. “Do you want to test that theory?”

You stare at him and lick your lips, still feeling the distant shudders of your last release, but you know he's right. You've been tense for so long, never able to let it all out, so why stop now? The harm is already done, you tell yourself and try not to think of the details of experiencing this whole thing with another boy while your boyfriend is probably fast asleep and happy about what you'd done earlier.

“Yes,” you tell Sebastian quietly and watch him smile wider at you. Without any warning, he then grabs your shoulders and turns you around until your back is pressed against his chest and you sit with your legs wide open astride on his lap, facing the vast space of the Undercroft.

“You can put your feet on the couch if you want, but keep those legs open, okay?” he whispers, his breath hitting your ear as he leans his head around slightly. You shift on top of him and gasp softly when he snakes his arms under yours and around your torso, grabbing the fabric of your skirt to ball it up more and push it out of the way.

“I can... take it off...” you mumble under your breath.

“If you want to,” he says and lets go of it.

You stand up then and suddenly feel your legs shaking beneath you. He quickly grabs your waist to support you and you inhale deeply to gather yourself. With shaking fingers you unclasp your skirt and push it off your hips until it drops to your feet. Stepping out of it, you then settle back on his lap and put your feet up like he told you to. You can feel the soft fabric of his trousers and slightly more as you shift your rear against him to find a comfortable position.

His hands now roam freely all the way to your legs, his thumbs teasing at your inner thighs. “I can assume you've never had a finger inside you?” he whispers against you and you feel a shiver run down your spine.

“Isn't it enough to have a --” Weirdly enough you can't say it, can't name it. You feel your cheeks blush even more.

“The word is cock, darling,” he tells you in that sultry voice that masks the vulgarity of his words so well. “Or dick or whatever you want to call it,” he adds with a chuckle. “Don't be afraid to name it. It won't bite. It's there for your pleasure, you know?” You squirm and make a low noise of embarrassment. He only chuckles again. “And you know, no, it's not enough to have a cock in your pussy. It is certainly the main goal, but there are so many other things you can use to pleasure yourself. Like your fingers,” he concludes and you feel your ears burning when you listen to him. He talks about these things so easily, it's almost impressive if it wouldn't be so lewd.

As you still chew on his words, he suddenly grabs your hand and guides it between your legs, his fingers on yours as he presses them against your folds that feel warm and wet under your touch. You inhale sharply and bite your lip. Feeling him rest his chin on your shoulder, his cheek rubbing against yours, you look down and watch him move your hand up and down your mound, teasing at your clit, pressing into your slit until you feel your fingertip pushing against your entrance.

“Give it a try,” he tells you quietly and just the sound of his voice makes you close your eyes and take a deep breath, before you tease your fingertip into your hole.

It feels so tight and you suddenly know why it hurts every time your overeager boyfriend presses his thing (still can't even think about it) into you without warning or preparation. You feel Sebastian moving his fingers back to close around your wrist as he guides your hand further, pushing your finger deeper. You shudder at the sensation.

“How does it feel?” he asks and you feel the vibrations of his voice more than you hear his words.

“Weird,” you reply quietly as your finger scrapes over your soft wet flesh. “So... squishy...”

He chuckles. “That makes it so desirable, love,” he whispers and you feel him turn his head and brush his lips against your jaw. “It can be soft and welcoming, but then it can clench and tighten and really squeeze...” He inhales deeply, almost longingly, when all you can do is focus on his voice and the sensation that causes inside you.

And you knew then that it wasn't your finger inside you that made your stomach tense, it was the timbre of his voice, those low vibrations, the way he pronounced certain words, those low and high notes of his speech, and that combined with his lewd words was just irresistible to you. A soft moan escapes you as you shift slightly against him, pressing your back into his chest.

“Keep talking,” you whisper as you move your finger a little faster against your flesh. “Please...”

He seems to pause at your request, then you feel a warm exhale against your cheek as he breathes a throaty laugh. “You like my voice, huh?” he concludes and all you can do is nod. “That's new. Have you always --” He pauses again. “Are you honestly jerking off to my voice right now?” he asks and you blush and bite your lip, but you don't stop moving your finger against yourself.

He laughs softly and tightens his grip on your wrist as he helps you with that motion. “Try adding another finger,” he tells you, his lips brushing against your ear and you shiver deeply. You comply and slip your index finger in with your middle finger, slightly stretching your entrance as you do so. Another moan escapes you. “Push as deep as you can,” he continues in a low whisper that resonates through your entire body. You do what he says and you don't even flinch at the wet squelching sound you create with your movements. “In and out, that's right,” he comments on what you're doing. “Go a little faster, really move those digits. The more friction the better, love.”

You feel your heart pounding inside your chest as you work your hand against your folds, your fingers slipping in and out fast and hard and you can feel your walls clenching around them, certainly reacting to your touch. Your breaths become shallow and you feel your wrist hurting from him holding it and you moving your hand so much, but you keep going.

“Now put your thumb on your clit,” he whispers, seemingly watching you follow his every word. “Pump those fingers and press against your clit and I bet it'll feel even better...” And it does and you almost flinch off his lap if he wouldn't hold you as you feel your thighs twitching when you start rubbing the sensitive nub with every rapid pump motion of your fingers.

You lean your head back against him, breathing louder and harder, your whole body shuddering under the sensation. “You're so good at this,” he tells you and you feel even better. “And I wonder why you never did this before, you're a natural.”

“You... you're... helping...” you whimper breathlessly. You hear him chuckle and then his lips press against your ear.

“Am I?” he whispers with his voice so deep and low that you can only moan more. “And I could tell you anything? And you would still find it... sexy? Hmm,” he hums and you almost lose it right there and then. “Hmm, okay, so, did you know --”

But you never heard whatever he wanted to tell you as your entire body shuddered all over again. You arch your back against him as you buck your hips off his lap and really push your feet into the cushions of the couch when you feel that awful knot tensing up painfully once more before it breaks free with such a force that you let out a cry of pleasure that echoes loudly through the Undercroft. While your hips stutter, you feel something warm and wet coating your hand as you finally still your movements and even press your thighs together before you curl up on his lap, shaking uncontrollably under your release.

He holds you in his arms as you shake and whimper, gently cooing in your ear, and you feel completely spent and very, very happy as you lean against him, smiling tiredly as your eyelids flutter open.

“That was powerful...” he whispers as he meets your eyes with a smirk. “Well done. You even squirted, I'm impressed,” he tells you and you frown at his words, before you loosen your legs and open them once more, only to see a large wet stain on his green trousers.

Despite the sensation still rushing through your body, you basically jump off his lap and hide your face in nothing but pure humiliation as you stand awkwardly in front of the couch, your release still dripping down your legs as you shift on them shakily. “No! Oh no, I'm... I'm so sorry... I didn't --”

He is with you immediately, pulling you into a tight hug and holding you against him. “Shh, it's alright! Don't worry about it! It's completely natural,” he whispers, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “And I can clean that up, no problem. Don't be ashamed! Be proud!”

You issue a strangled noise and bury your burning face in his shirt, your hands clawing at the back of it. It takes you a moment to recover and you feel even sillier over how you've reacted to your mess. “Sorry,” you mumble once more and he shushes you once more.

He even grabs your shoulders and leans you back, looking at you with a serious expression that stuns you for a moment. “Don't apologize,” he whispers and tilts his head. “I wanted you to feel good about yourself, and didn't you feel good just now?”

You swallow and nod almost a little timidly, chewing on your lip.

Sebastian smiles at you. “Then focus on that,” he says and you feel his hands moving down your arms until they hold your waist and pull you closer to him. “And I'm sure you want to feel good again, don't you?”

You take a shuddering breath, unsure if you do. But then he leads you back to the couch, sits down and pulls you onto his soiled lap. You shift a little uncomfortably as he pulls his arms around you and presses your shoulder into his chest. You look at him a little conflicted.

“Hey, cheer up!” he says with a smirk and kisses the top of your head. “And tell me... what do you think about toys?” You frown when he goes back to the topic right away as if nothing has happened. He mistakes your facial expression for confusion and adds: “You know, those phallic things that imitate the real deal? Or other toys you can stuff your pussy with?”

His lewd words make you shiver in slight discomfort and yet they also cause the heat to pool back between your legs immediately. “Haven't thought about those before,” you reply shyly, even though you hold his dark gaze.

“Want to test them out?”

“Do you have stuff like that?” you ask in earnest and surprise, before he chuckles and makes you frown again.

“I'm a wizard, love, I can conjure you anything you desire,” he says with a wink and you blush deeply.

“Perhaps... another time,” you reply eventually. “I... I think I'm good for tonight.”

He watches you closely. “Are you sure? Are you completely frustration-free?”

You consider his question, your eyes wandering over his freckled face. While he waits for your answer, you go back in time and think about your friendship with him. This was still a friendship, right? You have shared so many things, the good and the bad, the worst even, and you were always there for each other. But you have never been this intimate. You've hugged and he's kissed your head a couple of times, tonight included, and he didn't shy away from holding your hand or touching you (appropriately), but you never did the things lovers would do.

And somehow you still didn't consider what has happened tonight to be something like that. He had just helped you, assisted you in relieving the tension that's been troubling you for so long. He's never touched you (inappropriately) himself and you know he wouldn't do that without your permission. And even if the thought of pleasuring yourself right in front of him was still a little daunting to you, you haven't felt too awkward about it because he has made you feel so at ease.

Sitting comfortably on his lap, leaning against his chest, looking into his dark eyes, you suddenly wonder about something else and despite not really wanting to go down that road right now, you just can't shake the thought. So you voice it. “Sebastian?”

“Yes?” he replies, watching you patiently, a gentle smile playing around his lips.

“Why... aren't you my boyfriend?” you ask quietly and for the first time tonight you see him blush. He quickly clears his throat and laughs it off, shaking his head.

“Yes, love, why am I not your boyfriend?” he teases and nudges your shoulder playfully. “Take a guess.”

“Because I chose him or because he was faster in asking me?” you whisper.

You see him clenching his jaw, before he gives you one of his carefree smirks – that you know he uses to hide his deeper thoughts behind. “Both? Honestly, I am happy when you are happy and if you're happy with him --” He pauses then, watching you closely with the smirk slowly fading. “Are you happy with him? If I learned one thing about your beloved boyfriend tonight, it's that he seems to neglect you pretty horribly.”

You inhale sharply. “No, he doesn't! He's really sweet, he just doesn't know any better...” you quickly fall back into defending him.

“And apparently he's unwilling to learn either. Or do you guys just not talk about these things?” he says quietly, his tone a tad too serious for your liking. When you avert your gaze and bite your lip, he exhales loudly. “Of course you don't talk about it! Darling, you have to talk to him if you want to have a better experience! The times are changing, you don't have to take them like they come, you can fight against them, make them better!”

“It's really not that important...” you start quietly, even though you want to agree with him. But some things are always easier said than done.

“Really? It was important enough for you to get so frustrated that you ended up crying in the hallway! I bet he wouldn't like to see you crying either. Talk to him!” he insists, his arms tightening slightly around you. “Or shall I talk to him?”

“No!” you exclaim immediately, staring at him with wide eyes. “Please don't! I --” When you see his smirk, you groan and hit his chest playfully. “Don't even joke about it, okay? He can never find out what... happened here tonight...”

“You know your secrets are safe with me, stop worrying so much!” he says gently and raises a hand to push a strand of your hair out of your forehead. “What we have is special, isn't it? I wouldn't want to jeopardise that.”

“Me neither,” you agree, your eyes boring into his. “Sebastian, I... I want to thank you...” you then start, shifting nervously on his lap.

“No need, love, it's quite alright. I'm always here for you,” he replies, but you shake your head.

“I mean it, let me thank you,” you whisper urgently and he raises an eyebrow.

“What were you thinking of?” he asks then, sounding quite interested in how you want to thank him.

You lick your lips and lean closer until your lips are brushing against his ear for a change. “I...” You blush deeply and inhale sharply, before you lean back and look at him once more. “Listen, don't take this the wrong way. I mean, we've already crossed some lines today, right? So...” Taking another deep breath, you return to whisper into his ear: “I want you to come inside me.”

He grabs your shoulders and stares at you, his lips parted and his eyes wide. “What did you just say?”

You fight the heat overtaking your face and hold your breath when you look at him. “You heard me,” you say and chew on your lips.

“I'm not so sure, to be honest...��� he replies quietly, frowning deeply. “Sounded to me as if you --”

“Listen!” You inhale deeply, before you pummel him with your words. “You said it's the best feeling, right? And quite frankly, I want to experience that too for once. So this might also be a selfish request, but also a way of saying thank you for your help tonight...” Staring at him breathlessly, you blink slowly. “What do you say?”

He raises his eyebrows and watches you for a moment, unusually quiet. “Are you sure about this? That would be a major line to cross...” he whispers eventually.

“See it as a service between friends,” you explain with a shy smile.

You see him working his jaw as he looks away slowly, his eyes moving over your exposed legs. His hand moves down to your lower back, teasing under the hem of your shirt, before he lowers it to gently caress the curves of your bare rear. “And we'll still be friends afterwards? Promise?”

You tilt your head. “Of course! Why wouldn't we?”

“What if... that changes things?” he asks quietly, still not looking at you.

“Look at me,” you tell him and reluctantly, he does. “No, really, look at me! I just came all over your blasted trousers! That should have changed things, but it didn't! Not for me. We've been through so much, Sebastian. I think our friendship, or whatever you want to call this, can handle anything!”

He watches you closely, your words slowly bringing the smirk back onto his lips. But you're not done yet.

“And you know? It's only fair that I see you come undone as well, don't you think?” you whisper and smile at him, and despite your confident words and eager attempts to convince him to do that with you, you feel your cheeks burning and your stomach tensing up in anticipation. You might also be dripping onto his trousers some more, but you really don't care any more.

“I suppose,” he replies quietly and you see the tip of his tongue moving over his bottom lip. He smirks wider when he notices where your eyes have wandered. “And you wouldn't consider that cheating? You'd be sleeping with another guy...”

“There will be absolutely no sleeping, okay? Don't you dare fall asleep on me as well! I wouldn't be able to handle it,” you tell him with a hearty laugh.

He chuckles, but you can see a dark shadow crossing his eyes. “No falling asleep, I promise.”

Your eyes move over his face. “You want to do this with me, right? I wouldn't want to... force you or anything.”

His laugh is genuine this time. “You find me a teenage guy who wouldn't want to be forced to have sex!” he says, then clears his throat. “I mean, ugh, you know what I mean!” You see him rolling his eyes as he blushes deeply and you chuckle softly while you raise a hand to rub at his red cheek.

“I want you to feel good too,” you whisper.

“I appreciate that,” he replies, before he tilts his head. “You know, we never even properly kissed and now you expect me to put my cock inside your pussy? That's quite the step we'd be making...”

You almost choke on your own spit when you hear his blunt words before you try to laugh off your shock. “Well... we can also do the steps in between, if it makes you feel better...”

“Well, if I have to,” he mocks your tone and smirks at you, while he extends a hand to cup your face, his long fingers moving into your hair as his thumb caresses your cheek. “Do you want me to kiss you?” he then asks quietly, leaning a little closer.

You look at him, inhaling deeply. “Yes,” you reply without hesitation.

For a moment you just look at each other, each of you weighing the consequences of what is about to happen. But all that flies out the window, or at least your head, when he leans in and presses his lips to yours, gently, softly, testing the waters, and when you kiss him back, he tightens the grip on your face and pulls you towards him, his lips closing around yours eagerly.

You've often imagined kissing Sebastian, or at least for a long while, and you've seen him kissing other girls, but feeling his warm mouth on yours now, with his lips moving confidently against your own and his tongue cheekily slipping into your mouth feels like nothing you could have ever imagined. You are so absorbed in the sensation that you barely notice shifting on his lap until you straddle him, your chest pressed to his as you lean against him, your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepen the kiss almost hungrily.

His hands move down to your hips and even further, and when he starts kneading the soft flesh of your rear, you moan softly into his mouth. He leans back then, watching you out of dark eyes, and you draw a much needed breath. “You really want this?” he whispers equally breathless. You nod and already lean in once more, your lips brushing over his, but he leans back again. “You really want --” You see him clenching his jaw. “You really want me to come inside you?” he says barely audible and you smile at his sudden shyness, or whatever you want to call this kind of hesitation you've certainly never seen from him before.

“Yes,” you breathe against him, your hands finding his face as you hold it firmly. “I want it all. I want you!”

His gaze becomes harder for a moment. “What if I want you too?” he then asks darkly.

You tilt your head and frown, licking your swollen lips. “What do you mean? You have me, right here.”

“What if I... wanted more?” His voice is low, but in a way that causes cold shivers instead of pleasant ones to rush down your spine.

“What are you saying?”

He inhales deeply and then shakes his head, giving you one of his smirks. “Never mind. Forget I said anything,” he then brushes it off and leans in once more to kiss you quickly.

Your turn to lean away. “Sebastian...”

He sighs loudly. “Sorry, I shouldn't have --” You see him closing his eyes for a moment and working his jaw. “This is a service between friends. We are friends, nothing more. You have a boyfriend and I'm just here to help you out when he is too incompetent to treat you right!” He exhales then, leaning his head back against the couch, and rolls his eyes. “Sorry, I mean... I just...” He issues a groan and stays silent.

You grab his face and look at him. He avoids your gaze. “Do you want me to break up with him?” you then ask as straight forward as possible.

His eyes find yours. “I would never ask that of you,” he tells you and even though he sounds sincere, you know better.

“That's not my question,” you whisper.

“Why do you press this so much? Let's just fuck and get it over with!” he grimaces darkly and sits up straighter again, grabbing your waist. “Or not, if you don't want any more because I ruined the mood or something...”

You sigh and roll your shoulders, your thumbs grazing over his cheeks. “Tell me to break up with him,” you say quietly and watch his eyes go wider.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“You don't mean it,” he says quietly, eyeing you closely.

“What if I do? We could do this all the time, without having to hide anything...” you whisper, licking your lips.

“I thought you love him...”

“I love talking to him, spending time with him. The sex, if you want to call it that, was just a... necessity...” you tell him and scoff.

He watches you with dark eyes, his face hard. “What if he doesn't want to talk to you any more... afterwards?”

“His loss,” you say surprisingly indifferently. “I enjoy his presence, but I enjoy yours more,” you tell him with a warm smile.

You see him opening his mouth, ready to say something, make it better or worse, but instead he pushes his lips against yours as he grabs the back of your head and pulls you towards him. You gasp, but quickly lean into the kiss that is much more passionate than before. His words still echo inside your head despite the static trying to push them away and you wonder what if...

He never actually said it, you realize, if he wanted you to break up with your boyfriend, and even though you've seen the signs, you can't be sure. And quite frankly, you are a little apprehensive about making rash decisions while you're still battling your frustrations and basking in the sensations another boy has invoked in you and it wouldn't be fair to -- When you feel Sebastian's tongue pressing against yours demandingly, you focus back on the kiss and for a moment you truly forget about everything.

Your fingers dig into his hair, another thing you've always wanted to do, and you even start grinding your pelvis against him as you kiss him breathlessly. He groans quietly against you, the sound so low and deep it immediately causes a reaction deep within your gut. You grip his hair and wrestle his tongue hungrily, your heart pounding inside your chest. His hands are on your hips, just holding you, but his grip is tight and almost possessive, definitely bruising your skin.

With the last of your willpower (or the urge to breathe) you lean back then and watch him out of half-lidded eyes. “Do you... still want to stick your cock into me?” you ask, blushing from your own whispered words, but also no longer caring about etiquette. He's certainly had a bad influence on you.

Yet he seems just as surprised as you are and issues a short laugh. “Yes,” he eventually says back, breathlessly and with his eyes sparkling mischievously. You smile at him and scoot back on his lap a little as he pushes a hand between your bodies and fumbles with the buttons of his trousers. Watching him eagerly as he finally frees his arousal, you can't help but stare at it for a moment. “You can touch it if you want,” you hear him whisper with a chuckle.

When you look up into his face, you lick your lips and smirk. “I have a better idea,” you whisper back and shift on his lap once more, grabbing his shoulders to pull yourself as close to him as possible before you start moving your pelvis against him, feeling your wet folds sliding over his length as you grind against him slowly.

He immediately gives you the desired reaction and moans deeply, watching you with his eyebrows raised and his lips parted. “Good... idea...” he mutters breathlessly and grabs your waist to assist you in your movements. Together you move in a slow rhythm and you quickly feel your legs shaking and your core burning in pleasure.

Throwing your head back, you gasp and moan softly, before you close your eyes and lean into the sensation. You feel him gripping you tighter, his noises vibrating through you deliciously, before he suddenly grabs the back of your head and pulls your head towards him. Your mouths collide with a smack and after a desperate kiss, he rests his forehead against yours and breathes heavily against your lips. “You wanted me... to come inside you, right?” he whispers deeply.

You open your eyes and look at him, your vision blurry. “Yes...”

“Then please, take me inside already,” he says with a low chuckle. You watch him closely and realize that you are on top and he even confirms your suspicions. “This is your night, love, move at your own pace. Use me as your plaything,” he adds with a smirk.

You lick your lips and try to ignore his word choice for now. Inhaling deeply, you sit back on your knees and look down at his eagerly waiting cock. It's glistening from your slick and those veins bulge quite aesthetically and when you close your hand carefully around his shaft, you give them a light squeeze that causes another moan to fall from his lips.

With another reassuring look into his dark eyes, you lift yourself up and position his precum coated tip against your entrance. Watching you with heavy breaths, he gently massages your waist. Suddenly you feel a little nervous, not about doing it with him or because you think he might not fit, but because you've never been on top, you've never been in charge like this. He seems to sense your worries and reaches one of his hands up and grabs your face, gently caressing your cheek.

“You can do this,” he whispers and it's the sound of his voice that makes you start moving. “Yes, just lower yourself... slowly...” he comments and you bite your lip as you listen to him, your body doing the rest for you. He groans deeply when you feel his tip slipping past your entrance. “You're so tight...” he mutters, inhaling sharply.

You let out a moan and hold onto his shoulders with both hands after you let go of his cock as it slowly disappears inside you. You feel him moving further and further, deeper and deeper, filling you more and more, and the feeling is so new and foreign to you that you feel a deep shudder rushing through your entire body. A little whimper escapes you when you finally bury all of him inside you, and you are both impressed and terrified at the thought.

Breathing heavier, you settle on top of him, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as you try to adjust to his invasion and the sheer length and girth of him. You find him watching you equally breathlessly, his lips trembling slightly and his cheeks redder than you've ever seen them before. You lean in then and try to kiss him, but the motion causes you to move against him and you let out a wince when you feel him pushing so deep he's certainly poking something he probably shouldn't.

He doesn't seem to mind and finishes what you started as he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you closer, kissing you deeply as you let out another gasp. “Does it hurt?” he whispers into your mouth, but you shake your head.

“No, it's just... so new...” you confess and he grimaces darkly before he kisses you again. “But it feels so good...” you add and kiss the corner of his mouth as he gives you another smirk. “Having you all the way in there...” You inhale deeply and bite your lip. “Feels perfect...”

He moves his fingers into your hair and chuckles. “You just wait till we move together,” he whispers and pulls your mouth closer once more. You kiss him hungrily and wait for him to do what he just said, but he doesn't. When you lean back to look at him, he smiles. “I'm your plaything, use me however you like,” he says again, his voice low and sultry.

You chew on your tingling lips, before you grab his shoulders tighter and start leaning up on your knees, slowly raising your rear, feeling your walls clench around his length as if they don't want to part from it. He leans deeper into the couch and watches you, his hands letting go of you to rest on the back of the lumpy furniture piece. He truly lets you do all the work.

And you give your best as you keep moving up, before you move back down with a smack, coaxing a cry and a gasp out of your own throat and a deep moan out of him when he plunges back into you all the way. “Careful,” you hear him whisper with a smirk. “Ease into it,” he tells you and you nod, repeating the motion but a little more deliberate as you move back down on him.

Slowly you find your rhythm and he even starts assisting you as he puts his hands on your waist after all and guides you up and down. Your breaths are shallow and you feel your legs shaking under the exertion, but you keep going, your eyes on his face the entire time. His gaze is just as dark as yours. “Tell me... how it feels,” you whisper in between issuing moan after moan.

He exhales loudly through his nose as he smiles darkly at you. “Amazing,” he groans quietly. “You're so warm and tight... and how deep you can take me feels incredible...” His voice helps you in moving slightly faster now as you feel your insides tightening around him greedily. “Oh yes, you move those hips, love,” he breathes. “Just like that... you really are a natural...”

You bite your lip and move your hand to grab the back of his neck as you place your other hand on his chest, riding him faster and harder with every rapid heartbeat. The slapping of skin against skin and the squeaking of the old couch echo in your ears and fuel your desire to do anything to get that extra bit of friction, that extra scratch you need so badly as you grind your hips, feeling him stretching your walls and moving against those sweet spots. You moan louder and for once you don't care who can hear you.

All you care about is your pleasure and it feels so good and refreshing to have someone allow you to chase it. Even though he seems to really struggle beneath you, his fingers digging into your skin almost painfully as he grunts and groans while you moan and whimper. “Are... are you... close?” you ask, your voice strained and shaking from your continuous motions as you move your entire body against him.

He lets out a deeper grunt and you see him squeeze his eyes shut. “You... first...” is all he utters. You lean closer then, your arms wrapping around his neck as you press your chest against his. Your lips brush over his as you start moving your rear up and down as fast as you can, really leaning into it, and you hear him groan louder and faster as he too wraps his arms around you and holds you close.

You almost lose it right there and then when he starts pushing his hips upwards against you, mirroring your movements and doubling the sensation. Moaning right into his ear as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, you feel your walls clenching more and more despite the rapid movement of his cock sliding in and out of you as he fucks you open relentlessly. Your whimpers grow louder and you cling onto him as if your life depended on it.

“Please,” you hear him whisper hoarsely. “Come for me...”

You move faster, the heat almost unbearable now, and as you hold onto him and he holds onto you, you feel your muscles contracting, your insides convulsing, that sweet tension building and building, and when it finally burst into an explosion of tiny little lights, you cry out loudly, arching your back and sinking your fingernails into his shirt, gasping for air, before you collapse against him, breathlessly and spent, your limbs twitching and your heart ready to jump out of your chest.

Yet he keeps moving his hips against you even faster, the sound of your bodies connecting an obscenely wet one, the couch creaks beneath you, and his groans become louder and louder, until he shudders against you, his arms tightening around you to the point where you can barely breathe, and when he pushes your body hard onto his lap, burying his entire length as deeply as possible, he grunts and stills his movements, and you feel him twitching inside you, before something warm and wet fills you up as he mindlessly pumps his load into you.

You whimper softly as you lean against him, completely exhausted and yet so satisfied like you have never felt before. For a moment, none of you move, it's only the last tremors of your orgasms causing your limbs to twitch occasionally, before you hear him breathing heavily into your neck as he pushes his lips against your damp skin and kisses it lazily. “You're amazing...” he hums and you shudder deeply at the sound and sensation. “That was... amazing...”

You move your shaking fingers into his hair and gently caress his scalp, your breaths still shallow but not as frantic any more. “You... too...” you whisper quietly. “Thank you...”

He chuckles softly at that, his voice hoarse and strained as he speaks. “No, thank you. It really is the best feeling, you know?” He shifts beneath you and you gasp softly as he pushes his hips upwards once more. “Can you feel it? How warm and cosy it feels?” You nod your head, hoping he'll notice it. “I almost want to stay like that forever,” he continues quietly, his breath ghosting your ear, causing goosebumps to ripple over your heated skin. “You're the perfect fit...”

You breathe against him, fighting the thoughts pushing through your cloudy mind. Before you can help it, you feel a tear dropping from your lashes and a sob falling from your lips.

“Are you alright?” he asks immediately, loosening his grip on your body, but you keep clinging onto him, not wanting to face him right now. “Does it hurt? Shall I pull out?”

“No,” you say firmly. “I'm okay, don't move...” You feel him rubbing your back soothingly, his touch warm and comforting, and yet it causes more tears to roll down your cheeks. “I wish we --”

Suddenly he presses his lips against your ear, his breath hot on your skin and his voice vibrating through your head so intensely, it stops any ongoing thoughts instantly. “Please break up with him,” he whispers.

It's these words and his low voice and the need behind it that makes you lean back eventually. Ignoring the slight jab of pain as you shift on top of him, you look at him and his face is as flushed as yours feels. His eyes are dark, yet pleading, his lips parted and trembling. You reach out a hand to caress his cheek and push a wild strand of his messy hair out of his forehead, before you lean in and gently press your lips to his.

You'd be a fool if you'd ignore his request now. It wasn't just the amazing sex and all those moments before, it was the promise behind his words to treat you like this for as long as you'd let him. And how could you ever say no to those puppy-dog eyes? You chuckle at the thought and lean back, meeting his puzzled gaze. “I will,” you then tell him, as simple as that, and his reaction couldn't warm your heart more.

The smile spreads over his entire face, making those dimples pop and his eyes sparkle, and then he wraps his arms tighter around you, pulls you against him once more and kisses the side of your face with a happy chuckle. You laugh against him, relishing the warmth that courses through your entire body. And you know from that moment forwards that you need him to come inside you every blasted time.

Because it truly is the best feeling.

End notes: Breeding kink activated! He's converted another one!

And speaking of kink: that voice kink, right? Confession time: I cannot stop listening to Sebastian saying "forgotten", the way he pronounces that word is just *chef's kiss* to me! (I have it bookmarked, see link above... And even though it's the scene where he's angry with us, I cannot help but melt away at the sound of it XD)

On another note: With Kinktober over, what are we calling November? Because uh, no, I will not participate in No-Nut-November, excuse me? Our boy can't handle that! So Smutvember? Lovember?

While I wrote this I was imagining who that useless but sweet boyfriend would be - and while I have some ideas, I'd like to hear yours! Who do you think would be a great guy to talk to, but would be utterly useless in bed?

MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER - AO3

[the-moon-files]

Aaaaa yay, you updated for Linked Universe again! 🙏 And right when the hyperfixation was coming back for me, too 👀 

I was looking over your posts for LU, and if you don’t mind, I’d love to share some of my own random thoughts with you! I hope that’s okay 👉👈

After I read your “Humans aren't just round-eared Hylians?” post I have had,, many thoughts 👀 One random difference between humans and Hylians I thought about was the possibilities of varying strength,,, You briefly mentioned how Hylians seemed lighter than they seemed to Guide!Reader, and let me tell you, it was such a small detail, but I was transFIXED. I have this image of humans/Guide!Reader just being naturally stronger than the average Hylians - and it made me think of scenarios of the Reader just effortlessly hauling around two Links on their shoulders like sacks of potatoes- And them also picking up things that are supposed to be really heavy with ease! Like, Four would make a longsword, and Reader picks it up out of curiosity, expecting it to be really heavy, but it’s actually not that bad?? (Four in the background: 🧍)

If the Reader is already pretty strong (and maybe even has a profession in fighting, like a boxer or something,, [I might be projecting slightly—]), then ooo 👀 I can see there being this one time where a bunch of monsters ambush the Chain, and as everyone is fighting with the Reader giving them advice and whatnot, a Lizalfos managed to slip past everyone and sprint towards the Reader to attack them. The others are panicking because they won’t be able to reach the monster in time, but just as the Lizalfos raised its sword, one single punch from the Reader sent it flying back into the fray, knocking it into a Moblin. Reader is just standing there with their fist still in the air like “👁️👄👁️ h u h … whY ARE YOU GUYS STARING, YOU’RE STILL FIGHTING—”

In your newest post about the Guide!Reader’s voice, you mentioned how some entities could hear them, and I don’t know if he would, but I think it’d be kinda funny if Ganon and all of his other reincarnations could hear the Reader talking to Link- I’m not sure if he remembers his past lives, but if he does and hears/recognises Reader’s voice, I love the image of him thinking “Oh god, THIS guy again??” Because Reader WILL clown on him-

Dehydrated Ganondorf: *insert evil monologue here*

Guide!Reader: Uh-huh, sure, bold words for someone whose skin looks like a prehistoric riverbed. :|

Sage: *w he eze*

As I was writing all this, I had to think to myself, “Huh,, Guide!Reader doesn’t die when they fall into lava, aren’t really affected by harsher temperatures and winds, and also can swim against strong currents. They’re environment-resistant basically. But there’s bound to be at least one weakness to it all, right?” I did come up with said weakness, and I think it’s kinda basic, BUT one idea I had was that because Guide!Reader is so resistant to the natural elements of Hyrule, they are conversely quite weak to unnatural causes in turn. If they get injured, say they get cut with a knife by a Bokoblin, then that wound would take much longer to heal than it should. Any injuries that the Reader sustains in Hyrule are harder to heal (which I feel like could make some interesting angst,, 👀); their injuries would take more magic to completely heal them, or have more healing potions to drink. I also thought of the Reader being very vulnerable to any sort of poison- Like, if they get a pinch or two (or three) of strong poison in their system, they get knocked out for like two days 💀 

So basically, Guide!Reader is very resistant to the environment, possibly quite strong, but does not have any good constitution,,

[On another note, maybe it’s just a me thing, but I personally love the thought of Wind looking up to the Reader as like a big brother figure,,]

And also!! Happy birthday!! 🥳🥳🎉 As a way of procrastination, I’ve been compiling memes with Guide!Reader and the Chain because the brain rot is hitting HARD,, I can share it with you in the future if you like! /gen /pos And sorry if this is such a long post dkjfgndf-

NOT SOMEONE BEING HAPPY I UPDATED UwU

ur ideas, ur compliments, ur bday wishes, etc. hitting me like^^

Sun: Masc!Reader (he/him) this will be default unless ppl specify otherwise! , Guide!Reader, Boxer/Martial Artist!Reader

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: Most Links of the Chain mentioned + Sage (Totk Link)! No focus/centric Link

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: light cussing, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

In reference to This Post! Wait, Humans Aren’t just Round-Eared Hylians??

YOUR BRAIN>>>????!!!

This was such a yummy treat tysm for this, sharing is caring 🫶

I absolutely think Humans could be 10x stronger than Hylians, I mean if we base everything abt their universe off of Link weighing ~8 apples lmao

that means swords, armor, broadswords/claymores, battle axes, huge shields, if those weigh abt like fake swords/wooden ones back on earth to us, then i cant even imagine what canons/horses/tree trunks/boulders weigh 💀

like props on a stage weight rather than the real thing lmao

No but how many Links can you fit in one carry??

ok u got a heavier Link on your back, like Time, Twi or Wars, then Four/Wind/Hyrule/Legend (yes he’s light/smaller side, tho he may deny) in ur arms like one Link per arm, maybe 3 Links if you can like wrap ur arms around them

so like 4 Links total? well, Wind or Four r so light/small one could possibly ride on ur shoulders, so 5 LMAO??? that's like half the Chain already AHALJFAfJLL-

on another note,

I LOVEEE ganon being able to hear Guide Reader bc spent too long around them, also i originally based that off of characters who’ve shown they're meta/highly magical kinda (esp the meta part where they may have directly addressed players/broke 4th wall)

No bc Ganon would just be SO fed up by like, Wild’s time, it would literally be EXACTLY like what u said I’d imagine:

(u just playing the game and not realizing until later they can hear you)

Ganon: “ugh that blonde twink again, god when will this plan actually work-?!”

You: “eyyy, Ganon! omg, why’s he?? Hot??? damn, botw best ganon version fr”

Ganon: “you know what maybe you should just kill me right now, hero Link.”

(the thought of Ganon never being able to escape ur voice whenever Link was near him bc u didnt have a body to fight/kill, and instead he just had to deal with ur comments is SENDING ME)

changing subjects again sorry

YES!! that's the weakness/drawback I was thinking abt for Humans in Hyrule, while yes their environment isn't that effective on us, (i like to use “inside a video game” as the reason bc i think its neat)

humans are notoriously fragile in our own world already - we get sick, we get acid-reflux/throw up from bad food/food poisoning, etc.

so it makes sense we’d be more sensitive to this new environment, but even if we got adjusted,

we’re more external-proof, not internal-proof

(u know that's another reason why it works for Hylians and not Humans, we aren’t automatically healed by food, but their world does, and even in botw/totk when u have “dubious” food, its never inedible, its just useless to eat, so technically Hylians can kind of eat most anything off of that logic, like there is no such thing as “bad food” for them)

and u could take this either way tbh,

like we’re either entirely resistant to magic/dont take to it well bc our world didnt have it so potions/fairies don't work and we have to heal naturally

or just yeah, its like ur in a new country tbh, new germs/nature/food/etc. and u def cant guarantee u wont get a little sick from that

this would definitely include genuine poison!

bro the amount of WORRY the Links would feel after realizing the human guide guy who’s physically here now can barely handle their food??

Wild’s making a thorough list of what foods work for you and what don't, like safe foods to go back on, including recipes,

the way Time/Wars would absolutely be willing to take little detours/stop by towns more to make sure you have the right food you can eat,

and even tho Wild’s cooking, Sage is constantly testing for poison, like the dish itself, the herbs/plants, every ingredient needs to be extra safe even by Hylian standards (like not eating adventurous stuff like pufferfish or smth that could possibly have poison if cooked wrong/not enough etc)

that is to say, even if Wild makes a new recipe/other meal, he always has a backup safe meal to give you instead on those nights, and just way too many in general (yes he knows it doesn't buff ur health but he cant help his Hylians instincts to stuff the hurt person’s face with food ok??)

Hyrule! Is!! Losing!!! It!!!!

he has all the healing magic in the world and the one man he wants to help the most, for keeping him from being lonely on his adventure/looking out for him/being on his side no matter what, now he finds out he can’t even help them??

mans would literally keep trying to heal u til he’s drained it all out to just try and get the wound to close, if u didnt stop him

U get injured for the first time, and while a bruise/cut taking weeks to heal (depending on how bad) is normal to you, Hyrule + lowkey everyone is Freaking Out

Wounds DO NOT take weeks to heal?? They take hours at most??? Dude, are you dying-

(Wind got elbowed for that one, purely bc he voiced Sky/Hyrule/Wild/Twi paranoia out loud lol)

that is going with the version ur mostly unaffected by magic, but u could also do the human thing where we get adjusted to things over time (at least more than nothing), including food/sickness

The way All the Links just surround you or outright don’t let you come into crowded parts of town so ur poor immune system wont make u sick again 😭

on the bright side they'd all get rlly good at preventative measures like this, and taking care of sick you lol

(yes, u bribed Wind to get little bro cuddles when ur sick, it wasn't hard, he sees u as the most genuine bigger bro probably bc ur likely hte most affectionate out of all the Links)

(should I get into cultural differences between humans/hylians like humans being more openly cuddly/affectionate? like how in humans are space orcs fandom they acknowledge its unusual for us to “packbond” so easily to so many different species? and how this could possibly apply to not only Hylians but any Friend-shaped creatures across the Hyrules?? ..nah. I’ll save that for another post)

AND YES!! feel free to shoot rambles/thoughts/not even requests my way! Id love to talk abt it or just post it for the world to marvel at too lol

ohh mY God;; YOU HAVE MEMES FOR THIS?? PLEASEEEE SHOW ME????

thank you for this, srsly /pos

Peace out,

🌙

[smiley-mcdoggington]

FIRST POST YAY YAY YAY (tw: smut, stancest, dubcon, beware!)

Unicorns were, by far, the most irritating creatures Ford has ever come to know of all the anomalies of Gravity Falls. The amount of trouble it took to sedate that unicorn made Ford want to grab fistfuls of his own hair were they not already filled with the holographic strands from said unicorn. It had taken all day, but it would be worth it - once his house was Bill-proof, it would be worth it.

He fumbled with the frozen doorknob before shouldering into the house with a loud noise. “Stanley! I'm back!” He called, kicking the snow off his boots and reaching for the lightswitch.

There was a takeout menu taped over the thing. Ford rolled his eyes. Of course Stanley couldn't make the trip to the grove on his broken leg but he could snoop around to beg for food.

He tugged the paper from the wall - but then his eyes caught the stocky writing on the back.

‘I'm sorry, Sixer. You can put me in a home or something when it's over, I know I shouldn't have done this without saying but it's the only way to protect you from him forever, this way you don't have to worry so much. Please take care of yourself. -Stanley’

Ford struggled to fit the pieces together. He looked further into his dark home. “Stanley?!” He called again.

He strained his ears, but he couldn't hear any sort of response.

He flicked on the lights, reading over the note again, and making his way deeper in.

“Hello?!” He practically shouted up the stairs.

He almost thought he didn't get a response - then he heard a very faint “Hello..?” from his brother. Ford’s shoulders dropped with relief.

He stormed up the stairs. “Stanley, what is the meaning of this note? Is this about Bill? I told you what the unicorn hair was for--” He found his brother sat on the floor or his bedroom wearing Ford’s favorite trench coat that had gone missing that morning.

“What are you doing on the floor?” Ford asked.

“My leg hurts.” Stanley said astutely, and Ford eyed the leg that Stanley had taken out of its boot.

“Yes, that tends to happen when a leg is broken. Why did you take your boot off?”

Stanley looked dumbfounded. “My leg’s broken?” He asked.

Ford started walking closer when his foot met something. He looked down and saw the memory gun.

He picked it up, and saw the setting entered.

‘Stanley Pines’

He looked back at his brother - who’d cut his hair, was wearing his glasses and his clothes, and was staring uncomprehendingly up at him.

“Stanley, what did you do..?” He asked faintly. Of course he had theorized - but it was just that, a theory, one only meant to be proven when all other options ran out.

His brother had a confused frown. “I'm Stanley?”

Ford’s hands shook where they held the gun - the one Stanley pointed at his own head. He threw it across the room, getting to his knees in front of his brother. “Yes. Stanley, what do you remember? Do you remember making a deal? Anything?”

Stanley leaned away from him. “Uh. Sorry, man - I don't, uh. Do I know you?”

“You do.” He said immediately. “Stanley, you know me, it's Stanford - you know me--” He put his hands on his brother’s shoulders, the same way he had done two days ago, but instead of him calming down he just seemed more uncomfortable.

“Sorry, Stan, doesn't ring a bell.”

“I'm not Stan, you're Stan and I'm Ford.” He corrected immediately.

“Yikes, that's gotta be confusing. So Ford, would you tell me where the hell I am?”

He genuinely didn't remember. Ford felt sick.

‘You can put me in a home or something when it's over,’ Stanley had said in the note he left. He knew what he was doing to himself. Why would he--

Ford got to his feet, storming out of the room and down the stairs, down to the basement - the second floor of the basement, the floor he’d been avoiding for months. He grabbed the lighter from his pocket and started lighting dusty candles.

He sat himself in the middle of the circle, anxiety overwrought with anger. He recited the incantation he knew by heart and forced his mind to open.

But nothing happened.

He tried again.

Nothing.

He looked up at the ceiling. “Bill!” He yelled into the air. “I've come to make a deal!” He lied, but nothing happened. There was no possible way Bill would pass a declaration like that up - just like Stanley said, Bill was getting desperate, he wouldn't pass up a chance for Ford to let him in his head.

Stanley was dressed up like Ford. Stanley knew how desperate Bill was, knew he would shake hands with Ford no questions asked if he thought Ford offered up his mind.

He ran out of the room, back up the stairs so quickly he ran out of breath. When he got back to the second floor and his brother was face-down on the floor. “Stanley?!” He was over immediately, a hand on his neck looking for a pulse.

Stan smacked his hand away with an annoyed huff, sitting himself back up on his own. “Hey, Phil - thought you left.”

“Ford. What were you doing, Stanley?”

“My leg’s broken.” Stanley said in explanation. “I was thinkin’ of driving myself to the hospital.”

“You could have called me!” Ford argued.

“I did! I thought you left and I wasn't gonna keep on yowling for help like some sick cat, now are you gonna drive me to a hospital or am I gonna drive me to a hospital?”

“Drive myself - grammar.” He corrected, and Stanley gave him a blank look as if unaffected by their usual topic of bickering. “Just - let me help you up.”

Ford hefted Stan's thicker arm over his shoulder and hoisted him to his feet - mostly his left foot, his right dragging behind them as they started walking.

“Hey, uh. Buddy. Stairs are that way. This ain't the first floor.”

Ford wanted to drop him, frankly. Stan again forgetting his name made him perhaps a little too angry. “Wise deduction, but you came from that way - and you walked into my room with a boot on. A cast, too, but I don't want to see what chewed-up mess you made of that. I'm assuming you hid it there.” He said, lining up the back of Stan's knees with his bed and dropping him. Stan didn't make a sound, but the short drop made his eyes wide - still afraid of heights? Or something else?

It didn't matter. What mattered was that Stanley was blinking up at him with eyes that still didn't quite recognize him. Ford kind of wanted to punch him. Or the wall. Or Bill when he got back.

He busied himself with scanning the room - everything had a fine layer of dust, his bedroom hadn't been used quite possibly since the day he made that deal with Bill to increase time spent on the portal past all of his waking hours. He had most of his wardrobe in the basement, and needed nothing comfortable to catch him when he passed out.

He opened the closet door of his room - filled with summer attire for all the good it did him in February. At the bottom was the plastic boot the hospital had given Stanley, and just as he suspected the torn up remains of his cast, still with a pair of bent kitchen scissors lodged into the thick material.

A new cast would be easy to make, but the boot would help as a guideline. He didn't want to go to the hospital with Stanley again - not after the looks the staff gave him every time previous.

He grabbed it and headed downstairs again, already logging what he would need. Fiberglass, cotton, calcined gypsum, calcium sulfate, polyurethane, bandages - he was sure he had more than enough lying around for something as simple as a cast.

He started nosing through the clutter in his house, picking up everything he needed and putting it in an old grocery bag he found to take upstairs.

Once he was satisfied with his haul, he went back upstairs. He checked back in his room and Stanley was right where he left him.

Stan was also looking at the bag like it was his saving grace, then back up at Ford with a determined set of his shoulders. Ford ignored it, going over to the bed and dropping the grocery bag next to the cluttered nightstand

Stan was looking at him still - scanning him. Ford had no idea what his brother could be thinking until he opened his mouth. “Can't get on my knees that well with the leg, John.”

Ford’s mood soured. “Ford. It's Ford, you don't even have to remember two syllables, Stanley.” He snapped, but Stanley just tilted his head down like a scolded dog.

“Sorry, Ford - I'll call ya what you want.” He said, once again eyeing the bag for a second too long to be inconspicuous.

Ford sighed. “It doesn't matter - will you just - just sit there? Sit still?”

“Yes, sir.” Stan said, and then dropped into his back, completely ignoring what Ford just said, but Ford was still reeling from the use of “sir” by his twin brother. Ford didn't look nearly that old - or maybe he did, he had broken all the mirrors weeks ago - but Stanley was the same age as him, regardless!

Finally collected on why this offended him, he turned to look at Stanley again but then lost his train of thought.

Stanley was looking at him. He had taken his glasses off and was staring down at him expectantly over his own chest - was his back arched? Ford opened his mouth and Stanley’s legs visibly inched apart.

“... Stanley?”

“Yes, sir?” The title again - but now in a vastly different context. Why the hell was Stan looking at him like that? Sounding like that? Acting like that?

“What?” Ford said in summary of all his questions.

Stan tilted his head coyly. “Just doin’ what you want, sir.” His eyes flicked to Ford’s bag of supplies and then back. “Bag like that of food ain't cheap. Lemme make it worth your while?” He purred, and Ford’s usual urge to correct him didn't even notice that Stan thought his cast supplies were normal groceries.

Why was the thought of a bag of food making Stan act like a cat in heat? Was his brain damaged with the memory gun or is this such a frequent occurrence even the memory wipe couldn't rid him of it? Ford wondered just how many times Stan had looked at a stranger the way he was looking at him right now. Was he even clean?

Disgust and guilt and something else rolled in his gut - was this a con? Had Stanley still not put together that they're brothers? Would he still be lying on the bed that nicely if he did?

Stan's arms itched upwards and the sides of his knees couldn't go any farther apart from where they hung over the bed - that must hurt, with the leg. Stan didn't react to that, though, instead staring intently down at something while his fingers slowly dug into the dusty sheets.

Ford looked down as well.

Oh.

Ford cleared his throat awkwardly, tugging the front of his shirt down. Stan was looking up at him again, an easy smile on his lips. “You gonna just look at me? You can do whatever you want, s--”

“Sixer.” He corrected, his voice sounding off in his own ears. “You'll call me Sixer.” He said with more confidence than his sweaty palms suggested. He vaguely justified the change in his head while he watched Stan's fingers drag along the sheets.

Stanley, again unaffected by being corrected, leaned up on his elbows. “Alright, Sixer. You want me on my back?” He was scanning Ford again. Ford began answering when Stanley added another question. “... You want me to start by myself--?”

“Yes.” He said in response to the first question, because rolling over might shift the bones in his leg, and then felt shame burn in his throat when he registered the second. He moved to correct himself but Stan moved quicker.

He was undoing the buttons of Ford’s trench coat that Ford had yet to make him take off. His fingers sliding over the large brown buttons with ease, revealing more of the collared shirt he had seen just peeking over it.

It was no wonder he had closed the jacket Ford normally left open - the button-down was also Ford’s, and it looked it, stretched over Stan's larger frame. Ford’s eyes drank up the peeks of skin between buttons where fabric had bowed out, the buttons straining to keep from either undoing themselves or ripping from the their threads entirely. Dark hair wiry and obvious with the white background.

Stan shucked the trenchcoat, leaving it under him while he went for the smaller buttons of his shirt - Ford’s shirt that he had probably stretched beyond recovery. The long sleeves were like a second skin on Stan's forearms as his hands went deftly over the top button.

The button over Stan's pecks, the one most strained, popped open before Stan could even touch it, and Stanley’s breath hitched. He was staring right at him. “Sixer?” Stan asked, still releasing the buttons from their strain. Ford waited for Stanley to say anything else, breath shallow and eyes watching Stanley’s fingers.

“Sixer, come on.” He said, it sounded almost like a whine, like a twisted mimicry of when Stan would tell him to keep up as children running across the sand. Ford’s mouth went dry. Then he felt the warmth of Stan's wrists under his palms as he yanked his hands off that godforsaken button-down. Ford froze like a deer in the headlights when he realized what he’d done, but Stan was looking up at him like he was fucking smug about it.

Ford grabbed him by the back of his roughly chopped hair and dragged him into a kiss that was mostly teeth. Ford bit Stan's lower lip and Stan huffed a laugh like he had won, somehow. Perhaps he had, now that Ford was indulging in this - this incest.

He broke the kiss, going down to undo the last stubborn button and get the shirt off.

“Fuck you've got big hands…” Stanley huffed in almost a whisper, and really? That was Stanley’s candid reaction to the extra digits? Ford almost wanted to cry, instead he went back to kissing Stan like his life depended on it while his hands ran over his arms to get his sleeves off. Stan started pawing at Ford’s own button-down, but Ford just pulled it over his head easily - he had lost a few pounds before Stan got there.

Stan didn't seem to mind at all, hands running down his sides and leaving goosebumps. The distraction let Stan push forward in the kiss, technique much different - better. One of Stanley’s hands started itching down the front of his pants and Ford made an embarrassing noise that had him freezing up.

Stanley stopped, breaking away to get a look at Ford, but Ford just grabbed his wrists again and pushed them into the bed. “No touching.” He said, trying to sound authoritative instead of like someone liable to come in his pants at some heavy petting.

Stanley obediently kept his hands where they were when Ford let go, leaning down to meet Stanley again. Ford tried to copy what Stan was doing earlier, and Stan hummed in his mouth.

Ford slowly moved down to Stan's pants - still his, it seems he didn't even attempt to squeeze into Ford’s stiff slacks. Or maybe he did and hid the ripped remains somewhere. He undid the fly and button and Stan groaned. Ford, spurred on by the noise, started pulling down his pants and underwear at once.

Stan chuckled in his mouth - voice low and harsh and scratching at Ford’s brain. “You wanna stretch me or you wanna watch?” He asked, nose running by Ford’s cheekbone.

“Watch.��� Ford said. It was only smart, he had never done something like that before, all of his college trysts were with women. Stan scooted backwards on the bed - barely wincing when his leg shifted. He looked Ford in the eyes and started laving three of his fingers in saliva for a second, before pulling away, a string connecting them to his lips for a moment as he reached down, passing his erection and going further.

Ford watched Stan shove two in immediately - really, how experienced was he? He started pushing them deeper and then back out. Ford watched him work himself open, want making his stomach ache. He reached down and started palming himself, and Stanley groaned again. Ford’s eyes snapped up to his face.

“Sixer? Six - get - lemme see? I wanna see.” He was looking directly at Ford’s crotch, fingers slow and making faint wet noises.

Ford hesitated - one of Bill's many efforts to demonstrate his lack of bodily autonomy was to go to a tattoo and piercing parlor and get what he thought would shame Ford as much as possible - publicly and privately.

“Sixerrrr…” Stan's voice dragged, his hands moving faster - three fingers, now. “Please - God - please lemme see, jus - please, Six I just wanna see…”

Ford undid the front of his pants like they were on fire, and Stan's hand in himself slowed to a crawl. Ford swallowed thickly, pulling himself out of his underwear.

The small barbell glinted off the light. Stan made a breathy sort of whine as his hand sped up again. “Please.” Stan said, more easily than he had ever begged for anything. “Wan’ it - Sixer, Sixer - Shit--” Ford grabbed the hand Stanley had half-buried in himself and pulled it out. His hole was red - open and flexing to the beat of Stan's panting. Ford lined himself up. “Wai - wait.” Stan licked his own hand, the one he just had in his asshole, and then reached down. He ran his five-fingered hand up and down Ford’s length twice and Ford moaned. Stan squeezed his base to keep him from shooting off early and Ford’s cheeks burned.

Stan was looking up at him like he was gorgeous, though. “You good?” He asked gruffly, and Ford nodded.

Stanley leaned back again, resting on his elbows and bending his unbroken leg up. Ford lined himself up again and slowly pushed in.

Stanley was hot - he was saying something, but Ford didn't recognize what. He was so hot - his muscles spasming around Ford and Ford had to grab his base again, whimpering as his orgasm failed again.

Stan started thrusting down onto him - fucking himself, shit - and Ford started tentatively following, slowly releasing the pressure from his hand.

“Shit, Six - Sixer. You gotta move, you - you're killing me here.” Stan whined, back arched, and hands gripping the sheets. “Please.” He begged, and Ford drew his hips back and slammed them forward.

Stan moaned. “Tha - Fuck - That's it, Six - Jus’ like that--” Ford started thrusting in earnest, Stan making these huffing noises to the pace of it. Then Ford’s unfortunate piercing caught something on the drag out and Stan's gasp hitched. He groaned obscenely. “The - their - right there sweetheart - Sixer - Fuck!” Ford’s mind pulled up a diagram of male genitalia - specifically the location of the prostate. Should be…

“FUCK--” Stan sobbed. “Please please Sixer Sixer Sixer F-Ford--”

Ford’s body was overtaken by static, spine curling forward until his nose was buried in Stan's chest hair while his spend flooded his brother. Hands started carding through his hair while he trembled and groaned, he felt himself slowly relaxing into the big arms around him and the soup of endorphins in his head.

The last thing he thought before his mind drifted away was that he could have sworn he was supposed to be staying awake.

[ladysomething]

I forget, is it snippet wednesday or full chapter wednesday today?

hi!

it is snippet Wednesday, and I did post one last night, but after the day we've alll had .. fuck it, lets have another one.

this one will also be heavily edited before it makes it's way to ao3, so that's exciting! yay for seeing the process!

“You can talk to me,” Max murmurs, voice so endearingly awkward and unsure. “If you want. I—I’ll listen.” 

He’s so nice. He’s always so nice, always just wants to be kind to him, but Charles doesn’t think he deserves it. 

“Why would you do that for me?” Charles asks, sniffling loudly. 

It’s pathetic. He’s pathetic. 

“You know why,” Max answers, a little helplessly. 

Charles’ heart squeezes, so painfully it makes him whimper. He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve Max, and his unwavering loyalty, his dedication to keeping Charles safe even when he was being such a dick. He definitely doesn’t deserve to still have Max’s love, even when Charles can give him nothing back.

“I’m sorry,” Charles says, but it comes out almost as a sob. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ve been so mean to you and now you’re stuck with me forever and I can’t even . . .” 

“Stuck?” Max asks, clearly bewildered. Charles doesn’t blame him—he’s just as confused at his own behaviour. It makes him cry harder, because Max is being so gentle, even though Charles is acting crazy. “What on Earth makes you think I feel stuck? If anything, you’re the one stuck with me.” 

“You are,” Charles cries, fists tightening in Max’s shirt. “You’re so nice, and you always defend me, even though Lando was right, because I can’t make any food and you always have to do it and maybe I can’t have kids but everyone keeps telling me that you want them! I’ve ruined everything. I ruined your life, and my life, and what if I can’t even win the Championship? What if I’m not good enough? And—and—Kelly! What about Kelly? Jean-Luc is here, all the time, and not with Kelly and Penelope and it’s all my fault, I’m so stupid, I don’t know why all of you would do this for me! I’m not worth it, I’m not, Max, I’m so stupid.” 

Max rubs gentle, soothing circles on his back as Charles sobs desperately into his neck. He doesn’t even know where half of that came from, which just makes him cry more. 

What is he even saying? What is he talking about? He really is so fucking stupid—

“You’re not stupid,” Max whispers fervently. “Don’t even say that. You’ve been put in an awful situation and you tried to make the best of it. That doesn’t make you stupid.” 

Charles sobs loudly, rubbing his wet face against Max’s shirt. 

“Don’t be nice to me,” Charles whispers desperately. “I don’t deserve for you to be nice to me.”

[multiwreckedmess]

Kinktober Day 6

Prompt: Dubcon/Noncon Pairing: Frat!Changbin x fem!reader WC: 2,170 Summary: Changbin’s boys went out for a boys night. Changbin stayed in to stay with you. You stayed in to work on your capstone.  This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Changbin or any Stray Kids member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this. 

I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy.

TW/CW: DUB. CON. Coercion, overpowering, pestering, objectification, constant boundary violations. Pet names: love, babe, bunny boy. Unprotected intercourse. Oral (m. receiving). Dry humping. Masturbation (male)

“Surprise!” Changbin yelled as he threw open the door to greet you. The boys were all gone for once. All the boys except for your boy. Changbin instead of being social and going out for boys night had decided to forgo the movie and drinks for working out and lazing around.  Arms laden with a tote full of books, your overnight bag, and your laptop bag, you tried to feign excitement for him. “Yay?” You push past him to drop your things in the entryway. “It’s…it’s so quiet.” You marvel. “I can hear my own thoughts.”  Changbin attaches himself to you immediately, full weight pinning you to the wall as his hand delves into your jeans with a groan. “I’m gonna fuck you on every horizontal surface. Shit, even the vertical ones. Gonna make this apartment ours.” He promises as covers your neck and shoulder in kisses and bites.  You shove your elbow into his side, he barely budges. “Binnie,” you whine, “hey, hey, HEY! I have work! I have work!” Your plees crescendo into shouts, finally bucking him off.  He stands stock still, eyes wide and lip pouted like a puppy. “Study later?” Asking, aegyo voice in full effect. It’s hard not to roll your eyes as his switch up from domineering to begging. It was the duality of the man you loved.  “No, study now. The faster I study the faster we can fuck,” you say the magic word and watch his face light up. “Maybe fuck, MAYBE.”

 Your belongings practically levitate to his room, Changbin in full cheerleader mode. All in the name of getting your work done so that he can have his way with your cute ass. He tries so hard, really, he does. Practically hovering over you to make sure any need you have is met. Water? Check. Post-it notes? Check. Snacks? Check. He sits eagerly in his computer chair awaiting your requests, no matter how small.  But even the best of boys gets impatient with a cute girl lounging in their bed. Belly down into the mattress the natural curve of your spine up to your perky ass has him fantasizing about all the things he wanted tonight, each passing minute needing to narrow down his list. You suck on the cap of your pen, a habit that helped you focus, an oral fixation. Oh it was too much for him, watchin you poke at your upper lip before placing it just between them. He shoves his hand down his pants, thumbing over the head of his dick as it flexes.  You see him out of the corner of your eye, staring at you unabashedly as a conspicuous lump in his pants moves in time with his breaths. “Changbin, are you kidding me? Are you getting off in the corner?”  “You won’t stop sucking that pen so yeah. Yeah I’m getting off to my girlfriend. Sue me.” He keeps pumping his fist as you glare at him, gaze quickly shifting back to your laptop screen. Your mild annoyance is a little hot. Or is it your attention that he gets off on? Changbin doesn’t think much further about it, getting out of his computer chair to stand just over your shoulder. “Maybe you could help me, help you.” He offers, sliding down his sweats. “You know, something to have in your mouth.”  Rolling your eyes, you ignore him. You know if you give him and inch he’ll take a mile. The drooling head of his cock presses to the outside of your cheek gently, a physical suggestion paired with his words. Bold. You still stare at your computer screen, not even reading the article pulled up in your browser. He presses again, a strand of precum clinging to your cheek as he pulls back.  “Just a kiss, just a little peck? C’mon babe, I promise, you just keep putting that pen in your mouth and it should be me.” He whines, pairing his words with another jab, lower into the corner of your lips.  “I won’t be able to see my computer with your cock in my face,” you hiss, eyes unwavering.  Rubbing the side of his shaft against your lips he pouts. “It’s not that big. See? Just, just kiss the side for me. I won’t ask for any more, okay?”  With a sigh your lips pucker and softly peck his dick which seems to shut him up. He doesn’t stop though, continuing to let your lips rub against the velvety skin, teasing up along the veins. He knows eventually, eventually you’ll slip. And you do, your mouth doesn’t stay closed forever and eventually you refocus on the article and what do you do when you focus? You suck. It’s your habit. Lips curling around the spongy tip, letting it bump against the walled fortress of your teeth. Even this much has Changbin entranced, watching your cheek hollow as he tugs the head from your suckling lips with a pop. How easy it was with just enough persistence to slide even a little more inside with the next thrust, pressing out that same hollow leaving the imprint of his cock.  You don’t even realize that your jaw has slackened and he’s pushing further into your mouth, letting your teeth lightly drag along the shaft. It tingles as he shallowly thrusts against your tongue, slowly lapping at his slit. His gaze softens as he loses himself to the inviting warmth of your mouth, tugging your head into a better position, even as you fight to maintain some semblance of studying.  “Changbin! I can’t-” you start to try to tell him that you can’t see your work, but he doesn’t care.  “Just a little more love, a little more and I won’t bother you I promise,” he’s breathless as he uses the opportunity to shove himself even deeper, cock head pressing past the tight ring of muscle and into your throat. Nose pressed to the soft skin of his lower abs he fucks deeply as your body starts to fight him. Gagging and tearing up, your hands come to his thighs, trying to push off of him but he’s unrelenting. Finally you tap him twice and he releases his hold.  Mascara running and saliva clinging to your frow, you’re unamused. “Changbin let me finish. Then you can finish.”

 His cock is violently reddish purple and ready to blow. “What if-what if I just hump your ass?” Changbin tries to bargain. “You’ll be able to see your computer. I’ll be able to cum. I won’t get in your way at all I promise.”  “Seo Chang Bin. You keep promising-”  “I know, I know, I know,” he’s already straddling your hips, palms pressing your jean covered ass. “See? There’s no way for me to get in the way here. Please? Please I really, I won’t get in your way.” Turning over your shoulder to give him a withering glance, he sticks his lower lip out in a pout. “I’ll get blue balls please. Don’t give your darling boyfriend blue balls.”  “Going to wish I gave you blue balls,” you mutter under your breath. “Yeah, okay, fine. Hump away you dumb bunny boy.”  Without a second thought he roughly yanks your jeans and underwear down, just under the globe of your ass. The drag of the fabric burns slightly, much to your mounting annoyance. Even worse is his fingers, probing between your lush thighs to spread your gathered slick along your crack. “I fucking knew you liked it.” Changbin smirks, the smug bastard. Spreading your cheeks to accommodate his girth he slowly runs his spit soaked length along your crack.  You continue to try to read this stupid idiot fucking article as your big horny boyfriend uses you like a toy. Pulling your hips up just a bit to meet his thrusts, he relishes in the way you rebound and jiggle with each push and pull of his cock. While he’d prefer to watch your walls stretch around his girth, this will have to do. His thumbs keep him sandwiched between as he humps away, force dimpling your lower back.

 As much as you try to remain head down in your research, the twisting turning snake of desire is awake in your belly. It’s not that you don’t want to fuck him, it’s that you can’t fuck him right now. It would be irresponsible. To get into a good graduate program you had to be responsible, one of you did at least. His lewd grunts and rutting was not helping you stick to your gut. Fuck, your guts weren’t helping, winding like a spring, tension without relief.  It’s not enough, his grunts and groans of effort as he fucks the cleft of your ass filling the room. He adjusts you again, your hands clinging to the edges of your computer as he grabs your waist to arch your ass higher. God you’re glistening below him and he can’t help but note that you haven’t progressed at all in your reading. The clock ticks closer to his roommates coming home and losing the opportunity. A thick finger travels your slit, greedy eyes seeing nothing but opportunity. Changbin slips a single digit into your entrance, cunt squeezing down and pulling him in.  “Changbin! Are you kidding me?” Your head swivels around. Try as you might to sound stern, your leg twitches as he swirls his finger inside of you. Vision going fuzzy for a second you blink extra hard to force your focus. “Changbin, are you listening?”  He pulls his finger from you, licking it clean with a smile. “Yeah I am.”  You don’t even get to turn around before his cock is pressing into you, your arm lashing out to swat backwards at him. “I gave you a fucking inch, dickwad!”  “Just the tip, I just need to put the tip in. Please it’ll be like two minutes, I’ll cum fast, I promise I’ll cum so fast if you let me-” his mouth runs a mile a minute, like a caught con man. The tip is already well buried past your entrance, thick ridge popping in and out as his hips roll.  To your chagrin and shame it feels so good. You’re so wet and ready for him the slide is easy, your protests is hollow as your hips fuck back on him, eager to fill your walls more. “God damn it, fuck you’re thick. Fuck Changbin.”  “God, I know, and you’re taking me so well. I promise, two minutes,” he pushes deeper as he leans over you, closing the lid of your laptop and moving it safely to the side. It’s that small gesture that clues what’s left of your rational mind into the fact that you’re fucked. Not just fucked as in being penetrated, fucked as in brace for impact. Changbin braces himself against the frame of the bed, knuckles white, using every muscle in his body to rail you into the mattress.  You’re screaming and shaking, legs scrambling to get under you unsuccessfully. The speed and force is overwhelming, leaving you breathless with each percussive hit. Your hands find his arms, grabbing on and slipping and grabbing to try to rebalance yourself. Sweat from his brow drips onto your back. Neither of you breathe, Changbin gritting his teeth. He could at least keep this promise, two minutes.  Changbin can feel his peak coming, fucking blindly into your heat. Without warning your walls clamp around him hard as your feet kick and legs stiffen. Gasping your release floods his cock and ruins the sheets, leaving you ragged below him. Just like a little fuckdoll. The ringing in his ears all but forces a crazed tunnel vision. He’s been denying his release for so long, delaying it and saving it for your wet warmth. Ramming himself as deep as he can go he practically topples off the bed as he cums, grunt caught in his throat, sounding more like a half choked whine.

 Both of your releases spilling out and coating the back of your things and his lower abdomen he rolls the both of you to the side to keep himself from crushing you below him. Small after-shocks rock your bodies as you lay quietly together. Changbin takes mental stock of the physical damages; nail marks clawed into his arms (deserved), bed soaked through (a small triumph), potentially sore vagina (whoops), and a growing hickey on your shoulder that he hadn’t realized he’d left. His hand rests on your shoulder, raising and lowering with your slowing breaths.  “I can carry you to the bath,” he offers quietly. “If you want.”  “Did you cum inside me?” You hesitate for a second, knowing the answer but needing to hear it from him.  “I got carried away- I-, shit,” Changbin drapes his arm over you and squeezes. Comically this small squeeze is enough to force more cum to leak out between your thighs, emphasizing his answer.  You sigh. It would be fine. It was always fine. “A bath would be nice, babe.”

Yeah. That’s. Well. As a debrief I just wanted to say again. Even if a person seems to “want” something you should always ask for consent. Even if someone starts out wanting a sexual experience they can revoke it. Fantasies and experiences should be planned beforehand and both parties need to agree. Anyway. I think that’ll be about the heaviest it gets.

Sorry Binnie i love you so much. Sorry i made you a pest.

[moonpie016]

Heeeeyy.

*SLAMS FIST ON TABLE*

I HAVE FINISHED LE ANIMATIC!!!!! YAY!!

But, thing issssss.. Imma put it on YouTube. Now I haven't made the thumbnail yet, (because I just finished editing it now). Sooo it'll be posted whenever I have the time too.

I lost track of my progression on how long it took. Maybe I'll calculate it later.

(But it probably took weeks though.)

(Another reason for putting it on YouTube, one, Tumblr's size stuff for videos, two, more accessible to everyone. :] )

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For idk... waiting? (Idk?) You get these doodles made when I was bored.

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Another drawing will come its way when that's done. And when [LIFE™] is free.

Sooooooo. Yeah.

*Melts into a puddle.* :]

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[midwesternvibes]

Hey, hope you're having a good week!! I wanted to ask in your Leon Me Alone! Au How do Raph and Donnie react when they discovered Leo wasn't the one bullying Mickey? How do the dynamic change between them when they discover Leo is their brother? Does Raph discover Leo not just want that scholarship, but really need it?Sorry if there are a lot of questions, it just that I really like your concept for this Au

I had to reread my own posts about this au i haven't looked at it in a while lol but I do still have answers for you! Also dw about the amount of questions, I love it! Gives me plenty of things to think about ha

How do Raph and Donnie react when they find out it wasnt Leon bullying Mikey?

They react...not well. It's very much so an "Oh shit we fucked up really bad this time" moment, especially because they find out as they are in the middle of beating him up. This is only made worse by the fact that Mikey is furious at them for hurting his friend that they have hated for years and that he has told repeatedly to leave alone.

....which is made even worse by a teacher appearing as soon as this information sinks in for them, and now Raph is holding a bloodied and bruised Leon up by just his wrist, Donnie's fists are covered in Leon's blood, and Mikey is standing off to the side with enough rage to rival Ares himself. Yikes.

2. How do the dynamics change between them when they discover Leo is their brother?

It's just pure guilt for the older Hamatos. They feel absolutely miserable that they've hated on someone who is legitimately their family, in the same way that they are family to each other.

Mikey gets a lot clinger to Leon and basically refuses to leave his side, Raph is just guilty all the time and gets Leon literally anything he ever wants all the time (and Leon absolutely abuses this, he's pissed about the years of rivalry and he wants at least some revenge)

As for Donnie? He wants nothing to do with this situation, he hates everything about it and wants Leon out of their lives. He's convinced this is some kind of long con and is determined to dig up the truth, no matter what.

3. Does Raph discover that Leo not just wants that scholarship, but really needs it?

He does eventually, which does not help with his whole guilt situation. However, Donnie starts telling Raph about his whole theory, and while Raph wanted to stay out of it at first, the more evidence Donnie gathers, the more Raph starts to doubt what he's been told.

Yay this was fun! I love asks, literally any prompting to talk about my aus will have me rambling forever lol

Keep asking! I'm happy to answer!

First // Previous // Next

Mini lore drop

[thaliagracesgf]

THALIA GRACE X READER HEAR ME OUT OKAY I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO PUT MY IDEAS INTO WORDS BC ENGLISH IS NOT FIRST LANGUAGE

Maybe reader were part of their group (luke annabeth and thalia when they werent in the camp) and they had a little thing back than (crushing basically) but maybe something happenned along the way and she couldn't gowith them to the way of chb. and maybe they found reader but she's on lukes side

happy ending pls

i'm finally posting again!!! and answering a request!! i hope you enjoy this (even though i lowkey hate it).

also yay finally adding headers!!!

thalia grace x hestia!reader

summary is basically the request!!

constant arguing. constant, constant, constant arguing. luke’s head was about to split open. 

“i could have handled him just fine, thanks,” thalia shouted, storming ahead on the narrow path through the woods somewhere in pennsylvania. 

‘guys, please,” he would have thrown his head back if he wasn’t carrying a sleeping annabeth on his back. you thought she was the most adorable thing, drooling a little on luke’s shoulder. even the knife she kept clutched in her small fist was cute, although luke looked a little terrified that if she jolted in her sleep she would slice his chest open. a few weeks ago, you had convinced luke and thalia to stop, let you brush out her matted curls, and put her hair in braids that wouldn’t get caught or tangled as you all continued along the road. of course, thalia sat there critiquing every knot and part you made (with a celestial bronze knife, mind you). 

“it had you pinned to the ground,” you said, referring to the stymphalian bird that had been chasing you from philadelphia. “it would have bitten your head clean off if you hadn’t gotten involved.”

thalia rolled her eyes. 

“can we try a little patience here? gratitude, maybe?” luke chimed in.

“shut up, luke,” you said in unison. you might be bickering all the time, but thalia was your best friend. you certainly didn’t need luke coming in the middle, acting like he ran the show because he was the oldest. you got enough of that from thalia, and she was only a year older than you.

“for gods’ sake,” he muttered.

you trudged along, summoning soft flames between your hands. you hadn’t been born to a goddess, necessarily, but your adopted mother, who had fallen for a kind librarian in your town, had found your doorstep one day, long after the librarian had disappeared from her life, with a note attached. you had accidentally incinerated it shortly after she took you in, but she gave you the gist, which was that hestia had found you through a fire in an orphanage, enthralled by the flames, and that she had decided you were in need of a mother. she had pulled you through the hearth, given you some strange blessing, and dropped you on your mother’s doorstep. 

eight years later, when you were nine, your mother had died in a plane crash on her way back from visiting her father. the foster homes hadn’t loved taking in a nine year old who could summon fire, so that was when you ran away. 

so far, you could tell that hestia was trying her best to help you along your travels, which was more than you could say for hermes (ironically) or athena, let alone zeus, who you were pretty sure was the one stopping the others from intervening. you got the impression that hestia didn’t answer to zeus as much as he would have liked. 

the fire came in handy at nights, when you could warm yourselves around it. you had a way of making even a campground in the middle of the appalachian mountains that crawled with monsters feel like home. you would go to sleep around the fire, but manage to wake up curled within thalia’s arms. you could never place it, but it felt different than how luke held annabeth like her life depended on it: as in, you would always wake to them giggling over their breakfasts at you, but it didn’t hold any weight to laugh at them.   

⭑

the fire came in handy when you were trapped, alone, in the cyclops’ cellar. you had screamed for your friends to leave you, that you would be okay. and it came in handy on the streets of new york for the next five years, and even at the candy shop you managed to get a job in (somewhat illegally: a nice woman named sally did sort of pay you under the table). 

then sally went missing. you lost your job, and you made your way south again, staying in the demigod hideouts you had made with luke, thalia, and annabeth. flames trickled across your skin as you cried, wishing they were still with you. you hoped they were safe at camp, but you could help wondering why they hadn’t sent anyone to come find you. did annabeth even remember you? 

⭑

luke found you just as you were about to starve to death. you’d been in an especial depression, hiding in the cave of the blue ridge mountains, over in tennessee. the cold of the winter was insane. you couldn’t remember it ever getting that bad in the city. 

you broke when he told you she was dead. 

“it’s his fault,” he said, false tears in his eyes. he had long forced away any emotion pertaining to camp half-blood. 

and so you joined him, becoming his right-hand man. the monsters in kronos’ army feared you. the girl with the flames, they whispered. yet in the privacy of your cabin, you silently prayed to hestia, let her guide you as you fought her brother. 

it was she who told you to follow luke to mount tam. 

⭑

the mountaintop was impossibly windy. you were relying entirely on your sword if there was trouble—any flame would be immediately extinguished. 

you hadn’t accounted for the bigger threat—the air leaving your lungs at the sight of your sister on the ground as artemis held the sky beside her. 

he promised. 

he had promised annabeth would never be hurt. 

your stomach churned. she didn’t even see you, bent over in pain. you couldn’t speak. you turned to luke, suddenly terrified. what had he done? what were you a part of? your legs turned to lead. no. he was already practicing. the titan lord was already too far in his mind to turn it around. and he sensed your allegiance shifting.

when she came over the hill your heart stopped. 

your vision blurred as you saw her face. as she came to your side, held your face in her hands, and helped you to the ground beside annabeth. 

you watched through teary eyes as she fought luke. as he fell from the cliff, you couldn’t help but reach out. 

and then your vision darkened. 

⭑

your eyes opened to warmth. annabeth sat by your side, brushing hair from your face. thalia stood talking to a boy—about twelve or thirteen, you guessed—and a man who shared annabeth’s dark skin and deep-in-thought expression. 

she rushed to your side when annabeth called. 

as she knelt beside you, you adjusted yourself on the couch. your hair was probably a disgusting mess. she smiled softly, brushing her own short hair behind her ear. 

“i thought you were a tree,” you croaked, and she laughed lightly. 

“i was. i thought you were cyclops food.” 

“i wasn’t.”

she lowered her head, and you pushed yourself up on your elbows. she pushed a pillow behind your head, but held it up with the hand that wasn’t resting on your thigh. as she kissed you, you saw the years of camping behind you and the years ahead of rushing to her tree as the hunters arrived at camp all at once. 

and as she pulled back, you saw annabeth smile, hiding her face in the other kid’s chest.

[stolitzsings]

Yay! Yippee!! Another WIP Wednesday!! Thank you @sunsetofdoom for the tag, and for giving me a mechanism to shame myself into finishing fics 😅

I'm back on my "Blitz being praised and adored and learning to love himself through the eyes of the people who love him" bullshit, so I'm posting an excerpt from the fic I'm calling "Reflecting You," about Stolas doing just that

Blitz flinched away from the magic mirror on instinct, casting his eyes towards the scratched-up coffee table in front of it. Then he felt Stolas tracing one finger over the back of his head and down his neck. “It’s alright, Blitz. I just need you to see.” “S- see what?” Stolas’s finger had continued its path downwards and was now drawing circles around his trembling spines.  “Just look, dearest.” Reluctantly, Blitz looked up.  There he was, same asshole as always, and there was… Stolas. Lithe and elegant, a faint blush tinging his cheeks, his very presence somehow brightening the dingy living room. He rested his chin on Blitz’s shoulder and Blitz had to fight the urge to turn towards him, to grab a fistful of his feathers and press him down against the couch and— “Don't you see, darling? Just look at yourself.” He said it as though he was pointing out something obvious.  Blitz grimaced and shook his head, his eyes flicking back down to the coffee table. There was nothing in that mirror he hadn’t seen a thousand times before, and he’d much rather be looking at Stolas head-on, preferably from between those soft, feathered thighs.  “Look, Stolas,” he said quietly. “Whatever you think you see in there, we both know nobody else does.” Especially me. No, he saw the real Blitz. The failure, the life-ruiner, the walking disaster. The guy who didn't deserve to grin into a camera with his loved ones and act like he wasn’t going to fuck everything up. It was enough to make anyone sick. His spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a sharp gasp as Stolas’s hand slipped beneath his shirt and snaked up his belly. “I know,” Stolas began– and his beak brushed against Blitz’s cheek in the most distracting way– “that you are strong… caring… brave…” He punctuated each word with a kiss, moving down his jawline to the sensitive skin of his neck. Combined with the gentle fingers now stroking his chest, Blitz had to fight to keep his breath even. “And so damn sexy,” Stolas breathed against his throat, and Blitz felt a thrill run down his spine. “Stolas…” It came out more of a moan than Blitz wanted. But he couldn't help it; Stolas was an expert in driving him wild.

Tagging @bookishcatcafe and, as always, anyone who wants to join in!

[veinsfullofstars]

In a harsh world, at least we have each other.

(ID: Kirby series fanart of Shadow Kirby and Dark Meta Knight providing each other with small comforts. Top right - DMK flies off with an injured SK on his back, tattered wings outstretched and fists clenched at his sides. Middle left - SK sits crying on the ground, and DMK gives him a gentle pat on the head. Bottom left - DMK removes his mask and sets it on the ground beside him. SK, looking concerned, places a hand on the knight’s face just beside the scar over his left eye. DMK simply looks back at him, resigned or maybe just tired. His wing hovers near SK as if to wrap around him. END ID.)

Part 1 (here!) | Part 2

Just stewing in my Mirror World headcanons, don’t mind me. I imagine DMK’s not the best when it comes to displaying kindness or affection, but he tries his best, dangit, and Shadow Kirby can have at least one edgelord dad. As a treat.

Also soft shading this time because I’m eternally indecisive when it comes to rendering, yay.

(Psst, hey, if you’re craving some more sad times, I added a little bonus dialogue for the bottom right one below the cut. Because the inner writer demands comics I simply do not have the stamina to make right now, so it’ll have to make due with snippets instead.)

Started 11/06/23, finished 11/08/23, updated 03/01/24, updated for color correction 11/02/24. NOTE: This was originally posted on my deleted account on 11/08/23.

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SK: Poyo?

DMK: Hm? Oh, this. No, it’s fine. Long since healed. Don’t worry about it.

SK: Poyo po.

DMK: That’s just because it’s a newer one. It’ll fade like the others, I assure you.

SK: … Poyo?

DMK: … No. Not anymore, at least.

SK: … Poyo.

DMK: Don’t be. It’s not your fault. This is the result of my actions, not yours. Remember that.

SK: …