#also i realized right at the end that i was drawing the horns far too squished in lol

[trollbreak]

Played w drawing aurrel through the worst of the storm till i settled back down

[primrosebow]

Do you draw or write for the girls? Because I would love seeing any type of Lute, Charlie or Vaggie art in your style

Also I would eat your art 20/10

Short answer: yahhh xoxo💞

Long answer:

_-->Various hazbin hotel women x reader // art

//

!Content warnings!:the usual nsfw, this has the gals listed in the ask🫡 a few headcannons added for flavor, gn reader cause I never specified literally anything, more words than usual.

We are SO BACK 💪💪💪 request things ‼️ My activities would get me perma banned from the vatican, I'm afraid.

Charlie //

I, unlike most other people here, believe that charlie most often tries to take the role of a dom! She's used to trying to fix everyone else's problems, but, she'll crumble if she ever gets treated like the perfect princess that she is. Call her beautiful, praise her, give her that affection she desperately needs. She's been helping her citizens for so long, she deserves to get taken care of!

Honestly, when you slowly push that vibrator inside her after what felt like an agonizing ammount of time for prepping, she was ready to cry on the spot. She can barely believe you even talked her into being in the receiving end of this -she's the one supposed to be pleasing you!- Getting this much attention and love made her brain go all fuzzy and tears well up in her eyes as her limbs felt weak; she was trembling far too much from the overwhelming pleasure she felt right then to truly care about what this whole situation did to her ego.

She doesn't realize her horns have made an appearence as she pleads with you: come on! You were giving her so much attention just a minute ago! Please! Being as close to you as possible is her only wish right now. Her pitiful tone and cries for you directly contradict how her tail is shaking at it's tip, much like that of an excited cat -she's enjoying this far more than she expected-.

If you do decide to give in and finally rub on her already overstimulated clit just as you had been doing before, she'll cling onto you for dear life- practically sobbing as you give her precisely what she needs. Maybe she can get used to being treated nicely by you. (She learns that she cannot get enough of the overwhelming passionate act of letting you be in control, it's far too good for her to only experience it once.

She'll soon get a little cocky though... she isn't the daughter of the king of pride just because of her name, if you catch what I'm throwing)

// //

Vaggie //

Vaggie has placed quite a notorious quantity of expectations on herself. She's always been this way, and, continues to be despite your affirmations of her worth. Your constant and relentless words of praise to her: how beautiful she is, how strong, how perfect, how brave, how hot- it all got to her head very quickly. Your words contradicted her thoughts on herself but the way you kiss along her neck makes any thought melt away from her brain and be replaced with pure emotion.

// //

"Mh.. please, darling- I-" she tried to form a sentence, eventually getting cut off by her own moans. Her nightgown was pushed up as she laid with her back against your bed, squirming slightly as she feels your fingers rub against her insides. She clenches around you as you drag your thumb over her swolen clit, which was begging for your attention since the very start of this. Her hips stutter as she can't pick between indulging the stimulation and running away from the pleasure.

Her eyes struggle to keep themselves open, but you had told her to look at you during this. She couldn't let you down. Not when you were saying she was "doing so good f'me". Those are some of the few words that can pierce through the thick veil of the ecstasy-like feeling of your attention and carve themselves into her very soul. She was good. Good for you. She couldn't ask for anything better, and, won't- can't be letting you down.

You.. leave her easy tasks such as looking at you and being a little quieter just so she feels like she's still, in some way, being useful to you. Slow and steady wins the race, and, soon enough you hope to remove the constant anxiety of servicing you from the act of love you want to give her.

Lute //

Lute is quite interesting because she has this weird duality between wanting approval and not being able to take said approval. Sometimes, she'll activelly attempt to rile you up enough that you'll punish her (something you have already told her is not necessary, since you can be harsher on her if she simply asks) but please don't blame her! She's just used to being treated roughly, it's "safer" for her to stay in her comfort zone of thorns and cruel words at first.

But only at first. Like I said, she really does want to feel loved. One of the first times you attempted to give her the affection she craves, after having learned that she can't deal with the purely lovey, sappy affection yet, you had to get resourceful with bringing her the love she needs.

"Awh sweetheart, you can't handle this?" You dig your fingers even deeper into her, a squelching noise arises from the action because of just how wet she already is. She groans at your words, and, if you didn't know any better, she'd have sounded like any other cheap sinner from lust with how aroused she was at your teasing. But you do know better. Your comment- it was slightly mocking, it was maddening; it was a challenge. For her to keep her composure for as long as she can. Lute grabs onto you even harder so she can regain some sense of stability, finally locking eyes with you. She moves her hips slightly against your fingers. Despite it being her own action, she groans. She says in a shaky tone

"Do your worst."

Ah, you can't deny such a request, now, can you?

// //

BONUSSSSSSSSS‼️

Velvette //

"Agh- fuck you! H-ah-" she tried to act mad, don't get her wrong. She really did. But that's astoundingly hard to do when your lover has their hand in your panties and is currently relentlessly and harshly rubbing against your clit like it was the last thing they'll ever touch.

You really could not have picked a worse time to do this; right before one of her new collection showcases? Did you want her to die? You forcefully push her thighs apart when she pressed them toguether, not letting her even attempt to get back a semblance of composure. As if that wasn't enough, you had locked her bracelets toguether behind her back, and, even if she wouldn't admit it to a single soul, it really turned her on.

She tried to think as hard as she could, try to offend you, try to play her own pleasure down, but she really couldn't. Empty remarks about your incompetence or appearence or literally anything she could get her mind around slowly melted away into moans and whines, the much too familiar shame from getting overwhelmed so easily by you also pushed aside by a desperate search for her own release.

When she finally did cum, she doesn't hold back on how loud her moan of your name was, her thighs trembled as she leaned on your body for support. She intentionally turns her head away from the mirror so she won't be faced by her own overstimulated self, and much less your self-satisfied grin as you watch her panting against you.

Oh gods... what was she doing again? Hmm.. OH YOU BASTARD YOU RUINED HER PANTIES! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW EXPENSIVE THAT FABRIC WAS? FUCK YOU.

Let's just hope that the fashion gossip blogs don't catch onto how uncharacteristically out of breath she was during that showcase!

I love piracy so much RAHHHHHH‼️‼️ if buying ain't ownin, piracy ain't stealin, but I wish it were. IMAGINE‼️ you download idk ratatouille and they just don't have it anymore. "Guys they took ratatouille again..." I wish. I wish watching media through torrent sites was like taking various items from ikea.

I WOULD download a car.

@bigfatbimbo cause of the little bonus of velvette

[holy-reference-in-a-username]

unused art for goretober

as mentioned in this post, i had a couple takes on this year's prompts that i ended up not using. so here they are, and most of them i still really like!!

Content Warning: blood and gore, nudity

day 10: horns. this was always going to be matt comforting tom and also a bit of backstory as to how matt knows tom likes horn scratches :3 buuut i realized it would take way too many pages and panels to make it believable, especially since this was supposed to be taking place directly after day 3: gashes. plus, monster tom wouldn't even let edd close enough to touch him after something like that, let alone matt. still like a lot of the poses here. i loooove my monster tom design <3<3<3<3

day 12: burning. i initially really wanted to do a more detailed, gory and scary piece for this prompt still based on matt catching fire in the sun. i was super busy that day though, so i decided to go with something else. still think this sketch kicks ass though.

day 13: headache. as you can see i got pretty dang far in this one. i knew i wanted it to be tord, but i ended up deciding this just didn't feel "headache-y" enough. even if i did add a blood splatter on the wall, tord's expression just didn't work with the prompt. i still like how this one looks, though, so i just came up with a new idea instead.

day 29: teeth. this is by far the one i had the most trouble with. i went through many sketches with my first idea (zombie tord obv), and didn't like Any of them. teeth are not easy to draw. i actually really like how take 2 looks (right), but it didn't really match the prompt... so i went looking through my past art with zombie tord and eventually settled on a panel redraw, which i fucking LOVE.

and finally, day 30: dinnertime. i had a lot more ideas for this one. i mean, c'mon, who doesn't love a little consensual cannibalism? <3 but i decided that something a little more symbolic with edd giving himself to his partners was the right way to go. and i really like both takes! the reason i didn't go for this one is because... yeah fuck that perspective. great idea, would be a HUGE fuckin pain to actually commit to. so i went for a similar but simpler idea that i actually think turned out way better than what i could've done with this idea.

anyway thanks for reading my rambles i love talking about my art

[alchemicaladarna]

I have this headcanon that the eggs have this ability where over time, they gain certain traits- physical or personality wise from their parents. If you consider Pomme's parents though, well-

So my girl has an eldritch entity, a duck hybrid, a sentient intergalactic cucumber, an undead robot, a fallen angel turned demon, and Kameto as her parents, and you're telling me she's not at least a little bit on the biblically accurate eldritch horror side of the cryptid scale??

So here's my personal HC: I think Pomme doesn't physically look like any of her parents. Personality, yes. French, yes. Physical looks, far from it.

However, nost people don't end up seeing/realizing that, Pomme did inherit all her parents' physical traits- it's just very well-hidden.

Whenever Pomme feels a lot of strong, especially negative emotion, she transforms from a small dragonling, to a demonic looking/heavenly figure.

Her skin becomes like a void, and you can see stars in them. So her body is like an inky midnight sky full of stars.

Pomme's eyes become completely white and start glowing.

Other eyes appear on one side of her face.

Her horns are more prominent and become longer.

Multiple wings sprout from her back, and her arms and legs are just covered in feathers.

She completely affects the surrounding environment. Especially electricity. Like, lights would begin to flicker, machines would go haywire, etc.

Basically Pomme as a monochrome biblically accurate void who is also really op and a glowstick.

Only Richas ever saw Pomme's full form- when ElQ kidnapped Dapper and Pomme was so angry, she was demanding Richas to let her go, despite being told to just stay and wait in Richas' room.

This form was beginning to appear in her anger, but only a little bit when Dapper was kidnapped again, and qBad was trapped in prison, and the feds did jack shit to help them.

I wanted to draw this, but I'm way too sleepy right now XD. More people need to talk about Eldritch horror Pomme though. So much potential.

[hollowistheworld]

Flies

Day 2 of IBWeek 2023, hosted by @the-bureaucracts-are-everything

Also on AO3

They’re admiring Gabriel’s statue again, and that’s how Beelzebub knows they’re absolutely fucked. It shouldn’t have been endearing, watching Gabriel stare lovingly at a statue of himself. But unfortunately for Beelzebub, Gabriel was no longer capable of doing anything that wasn’t endearing. Everything was their song miracled onto the jukebox, Gabriel buying them human consumables so they wouldn’t draw too much attention, Gabriel letting his gifted fly out of its matchbox just to smile at it and listen to the buzz of its wings. 

Beelzebub had decided they didn’t care about the fraternizing, didn’t even care about pretending to come up for a reason for it, but this… They looked up at Gabriel’s statue, at the massive cross, the memories of the days of robes and ceremonies.

“How were we both more and less formal back then?” Beelzebub asks.  

"Hmm? Oh. I…” 

And Beelzebub misses the next bit of Gabriel’s blustering, because they’d looked over just in time to see Gabriel look up at the statue - meaning he hadn’t been looking at it all along. It had looked, instead, for just a moment, like he’d been looking at Beelzebub. 

And Beelzebub isn’t quite ready to think about all the implications of that, so they tune back in just in time to catch Gabriel saying, “I don’t miss the robes though. Suits suit me far better.” He chuckles and repeats, “Suits suit me better. That’s good. Didn’t even mean to.” 

Beelzebub, with barely any attempt at restraint, smiles. He is funny. Not that obnoxious excuse for funny that one usually gets with angels, where they pretend they don’t realize they’re rubbing the Fall in their demonic audience’s faces. Actually funny. And genuine. 

And… sweet. Gabriel is sweet, which would have been an unimaginable description of him a few years ago. But back then Gabriel had been more of an idea than another living being. Just Beelzebub’s counterpart Upstairs, the one they’d butted heads against a few times over the millennia, the one they'd be squaring off against once the War finally got rolling.

Now Beelzebub would rather take a massive demotion and spend the rest of their eternal existence in the worst of Hell’s pits than play that particular story out. 

Because they’re fucked. Because they’re standing here in a graveyard, looking at a statue of the Supreme Archangel Gabriel while standing next to the actual Supreme Archangel Gabriel, because there’s nowhere else they’d rather be than wherever Gabriel feels like being. Fuck that, there’s nowhere else they even like being anymore. 

“Are there any statues of you out there?” Gabriel asks. 

Beelzebub shrugs, and makes an effort to not preen too obviously at being asked. “None that bear such a good likeness. Mortals like to emphasize the horns and scales and things when they make representations of demons. They are meant to be afraid of us after all.” 

Gabriel looks down at them with a sort of frown. He has an odd way of frowning, Beelzebub has noticed, as though he’s trying to convince you he’s smiling at the same time. Probably wasn’t really allowed to frown in Heaven, same as you could never look too happy in Hell. “Right,” he says. “Demonic attributes. You have more than just the flies?” 

…Right. They’ve only ever met up on Earth, where boils on the skin or rotting teeth might cause a panic. “Plenty more. I’m the Grand Duke of Hell. I can’t look mortal. We aren’t like you lot, where we can brag about being made in God’s image.” They sneer a little, but with far less bite than there’d been the first few times they’d had conversations like this. It all feels so natural now. They're not so different, at the end of it all. Not in ways that matter. 

Gabriel turns his back on his statue. “May I see?” 

Beelzebub stares at him. “…Why?” 

“That’s what you really look like, isn’t it? I’d like to see your real face.” 

They’re doing it again. Taking a step they aren’t supposed to, heading toward another place they won’t be able to come back from. The first had been when they’d simply agreed they’d meet again soon, no pretext provided, and the steps have been coming faster and faster ever since. This is the most dangerous thing Beelzebub has done since the original rebellion, all those thousands of years ago. But unlike then, when Beelzebub had looked up at God’s place above them and braced themself for the brutal consequences they knew were coming, there’s no real fear. Just the awareness that they’re about to do something just as reckless and dangerous as the Fall had been. 

Beelzebub is pretty sure this fall is going to be worth it. 

They’re still caught off guard every time they move closer to it though. This isn’t what demons do. This isn’t what angels do. But when Crowley and his angel had canceled Armageddon, they’d messed up a lot more than just the Great Plan. 

It occurs to Beelzebub they may have to come up with some reason to cut Crowley loose and take him off hell’s shit list. They have enough decency to at least recognize when they owe someone, and it would seem they owe Crowley a lot. 

“Alright,” Beelzebub agrees, and Gabriel smiles. 

It’s been a long time since they’ve been on Earth without disguises. Humans aren’t so easy to terrorize or impress as they used to be, and even Hell’s Grand Duke has to deal with an obnoxious amount of paperwork to get a new body if the old one gets burned at the stake or stoned to death. Beelzebub takes off their hat and twists their neck, stretches their shoulders, feels the pop in the back of their ribs. Their flies begin to buzz. They can see when the noise reaches the world - Gabriel tips his head and smiles wider.

The night grows a little darker, the air thicker. Beelzebub feels their skin shift and snap, the left side of their mouth pulling up, their teeth sharpening and elongating and filling up their mouth. Flies crawl over their tongue and out of their mouth, burst out of freshly formed pustules on their skin. 

And then they’re fully demonic; surrounded by flies, their skin rotting off in patches, boils sprawling across their face. They’ve even exposed their wings - a rare thing to bother with, but if they’re showing off, they’re going to do it all the way. 

Beelzebub’s wings have changed over the years, no longer the soft feathers God had once given them all. Now they’re stretched thin, transparent, like feathers made of fly wings. Beelzebub unfurls them, lets them catch the light Gabriel summoned and throw twisted shadows on the surrounding tombstones. 

This is one of those things a demon shouldn’t be doing. It’s been a good few centuries since you could just wander around with all the evidence of your crimes against God on your face for anyone to see. They put regulations in for this. To intentionally not pass yourself off as a human was to declare yourself to have bad intentions, and that meant any nearby angels had free reign to slam down with all the holy power they could muster. 

And here’s Lord Beelzebub themself, in front of Supreme Archangel Gabriel, making sure there’s no question about exactly what they are. And not only is there no fear, Beelzebub doesn’t even feel the need to be challenging about it. They feel no need to brace themself, to meet Gabriel’s eyes and dare him to turn away in disgust. 

And Gabriel doesn’t. His eyes are glowing violet and his own wings blur into existence, and the two of them are spotlighted, their wings catching and throwing the light at each other. The rest of Earth seems to have disappeared and it’s just them now, in all of existence. 

Gabriel reaches out one hand and flies swirl around his wrist as he cups his palm against Beelzebub’s cheek, his thumb running gently along a patch of rot. “You’re stunning,” he says softly. 

And it isn’t… Beelzebub has never been insecure about their appearance. They’re intimidating and horrifying and know how to put on a disguise (which is more than can be said for at least half of their people) and that’s what being a demon is all about. They’re proud, if anything. And they certainly aren’t wondering about humans or angels finding them attractive. 

But once, a long, long time ago, Beelzebub was an angel. They had once crowded at God’s feet and shouted with delight as the universe formed around them. That had been stunning. Beings who had been present at the birth of everything didn’t use words like stunning and awe-inspiring lightly. 

They lean into Gabriel’s touch, feeling a smile on their mouth they hadn’t thought about making. It’s like a small miracle in its own right, how often that happens around Gabriel. As though a smile is the expression that belongs on their face, not a snarl or the slack-jaw of boredom. 

“You’re rather nice on the eyes yourself,” Beelzebub returns. “I like purple.” 

Gabriel’s smile gets a little smugger and Beelzebub laughs. Gabriel’s free hand falls to their shoulder and his fingers slip into the tangle of their hair. “Your laugh is the most beautiful sound in the universe,” he says. 

Beelzebub remembers the singing of the morning stars, remembers how lovely God’s voice had sounded, back in the beginning, before everything had gone - quite literally - to Hell. Remembers sounds so beautiful you could cry at the way they filled you up. 

And not one of those sounds compares to Gabriel’s voice right now. “I could stay like this for eternity,” Beelzebub says, voice quiet, carried up by the buzzing of their flies. 

“Me too,” Gabriel replies, and he bends forward, touching their foreheads together. 

It isn’t eternity, in the end, because they don’t have that luxury. It isn’t even hours, because these meetings are crowded into their already busy schedules, around complaints and demands and paperwork and battles that just don’t feel worth fighting any longer. They drop their disguises back into place and the night feels grayer for it. They squeeze each other’s hands and hold on longer than is necessary, even as they pull away. 

“See you soon,” Gabriel says, stepping away like it pains him. 

“As soon as possible,” Beelzebub returns. 

It won’t be soon enough. It never is anymore. 

[lunashiba]

A bit of a redesign for Morgan, first posted on 7-13-2022. I was very, very happy with how this piece turned out actually! It was my first time using a binary brush, so I had a small bit of a learning curve with this one. I usually paint and render, so I feel pretty uncomfortable with cell shading (but this time, it ended up alright). I’ll put some processes and such below, along with some more backstory and thoughts, if anybody is interested.

A minion is dangling on her tail on the bottom right.

Above are the sketches and WIPs I had leading up to the finished piece. I really liked these sketches, but ended up deciding to fully draw out one. Morgan was actually one of my first OCs, but her design has changed a lot over time. Back when I first started to draw, I thought that OCs were a bit too far out for me- I only ever envisioned myself as a fan artist. Nowadays, it’s quite the opposite- I don’t think I’ll ever do much art of popular media and such except if it’s for friends. The friends I made when I first started drawing all had OCs though, and that was what eventually made me more keen to the idea of making one. In my mind, having a consistent character to grind out all the time would be helpful in building my consistency and speed, so it counted as something that would help me grind- not to mention all the art stuff that went into “designing a character”.

I used to be extremely into learning art in a very methodical, nearly academic way. Everything had to be very productive and effective- I had to make sure I was getting as good as I could, as fast as I could; otherwise I’d be wasting time. I think it’s pretty easy to see my mindset at the time being unhealthy, but I don’t know if I’d regret too much of it. I enjoyed finally having a “productive” hobby in my life. With my online art friends, we decided to altogether draw something of a banner, with all of our pieces lined side to side- with this opportunity, I decided to draw the first iteration of my OC, who had no name at the time.

3-4-2018

I think that this may have also been my first piece with color? Or at least, full page of color. I think I just referred to her as “the horn girl” or “the antler girl” and based it on some crazy deer stuff. I loved the little doodles I did to the side- It’s something I haven’t done as much. I used to make sure to always put a little scribble as somewhere as a joke for anybody who looked hard enough to find it in all of my pieces, but it started annoying me because I couldn’t ignore it once I posted the piece. After this, I tried to further work on my OC, opting for different colors.

4-5-2018

I liked this design actually, but it didn’t really fit my personality. I guess I don’t really vibe that well with smug characters. I like the outfit I designed for her, but I think it shows a bit too much skin- it wouldn’t really be something I’d draw nowadays. It’d take a bit for me to realize that NSFW art or anything slightly so wouldn’t really be for me either.

4-30-2018

Things started to get refined- I kept around the ponytail, and toned down her outfit. I remember being extremely happy with the satchel and the earrings, and I kept around the thigh highs. I still felt a bit unhappy, with the design, but I couldn’t put my finger on what.

10-23-2018

If you look at the dates, you can see that it took a few months for this current design to come along. I actually extremely adore this design, and I don’t think I’ll ever fully shelve it. Disregarding the hair, this is pretty much the final design of this character. This is the Morgan that truly lives through to today. I remember drawing the shoes for over an hour- maybe two hours. I worked a long time on the line art, especially regarding the shoes, making sure that I’d get it absolutely correct in both perspective and in geometry. Nowadays I’m much less of a perfectionist in some ways (though more in others). Morgan initially had more brunette hair, but I gradually transitioned to a bit more of an anime red, and I brought back the horns that I really liked. A particular artifact of this era of art was that I used to draw little triangles above the eyes, to symbolize the little wrinkles in the eyelids. I know I didn’t make it up myself, but I’m not exactly sure where I got it from. Now, I just draw the eyelid folds. From here on out, it was more just personality growths than visual design changes.

3-6-2020

At this point, I had been accepted into art school and engineering school. I couldn’t give up either of them, so I doubled majored- as a result, what I had to give up on was time. I stopped doing as much digital art for a while, so most of what I have at this time period can be seen in notebook paper or scrap paper. I was a huge workaholic, and it started to affect my health.

3-8-2020

Morgan is gay. I came to the realization that I was pretty gay too, at around this time, and I guess I wanted to show it in my art too.

3-9-2020

The day after. She is very gay still. Here, you can see the absolute beginnings of a tiny doodle of Soone. She’d be developed later.

4-19-2020

I found my favorite marker. It wasn’t anything special at all- the tip was running dry, and it was completely blank- I couldn’t find any trace of a brand at all. The terrible paper with the texture of the marker made it extremely appealing to me however, and I fell in love with it. I don’t know where it is now, but I hope I’ll find another terrible marker at some point to fall in love with again.

Bonus Soone sketch idea. I really like this design, but overall decided to not use it- or at least, not all of it. I don’t think it’s fully gone yet though.

7-19-2020

Morgan’s character design is basically completed- She is very gay. I think at this point, she was also trans, though it was much more unspoken. It’s a bit subtle, but I stopped giving her as much indication of having “a chest”.

9-4-2020

I did a bit more work with Morgan’s horns here. It’s nothing that stays around too much, but who’s to say it won’t come back? I think I stopped drawing horns like this because I was a bit lazy with horn rendering. Also, it made the design a bit busy. This outfit is cute though, and I like it as a general vibe of Morgan. She also has a tummy piercing.

9-12-20

A little in-joke between friends.

10-7-2020

A Halloween drawing. She still has red horns. I used to always draw Sharingan on everything as a joke, but it’s faded out a bit now.

1-15-2021

I treasure this comic a lot. In a way, it helped me cope a lot, as it was based on a true story. I love this design for Morgan, kinda symbolizing an earlier Morgan, maybe a bit earlier in her transition. It somewhat aligned with my life, and the mental state I was kinda living in. I want to make more comics like this.

1-28-2021

Small doodles I had lying around on another blog.

3-29-2021

I forgot I drew this until writing this post. This Morgan was a bit of a vision of how a more confident, future Morgan would be like. Regarding her future, I think she’d end up enjoying being a professor, and I felt the vibes would be nice. Who’s to say if this is canon or not- or if there is a canon. I like having fun. Her horns are red and have ridges as well. I’d like to imagine that she’s the type of professor to have photos of her wedding on her desk, along with photos of her wife and her cats.

6-14-2021

This one was for Pride Month 2021. I should draw another piece next year, since I missed 2022′s. This is probably one of my proudest paintings ever, and one of my favorite Morgan Designs. I want to draw her like this again. I dropped the horns being red also, and moved to a more white/cream color.

8-18-2021

This one I made while I was very sad. It took a lot of coming to terms regarding my family, but this sketch helped me out a lot. I didn’t have the heart to color nor render it however, so I had posted it as is. I think for all of us, many things change, but some things may always stay the same.

8-24-2021

A bit of a happier time- a bitter sweet smile.

9-03-2021

I started to draw more of my daily life as well- this was inspired from my bus rides, where I’d constantly be stressed about school, but simultaneously wanting to draw. I’ve also transitioned from drawing wired to wireless earbuds. Technology evolving is great.

1-1-2022

Happy New Year doodles. I really like all of these designs. I don’t know what to do with this like though. I could always say “Maybe I’ll turn them into Twitch Emotes since I have space,” or “I should make some Discord stickers with them,” but I think I already I’ll be a bit too lazy to do so.

4-10-2022

This was inspired by two adorable mannequins I saw at the mall- I knew right away that I wanted to draw them in these outfits, so I took a picture right away and started a sketch I never finished. It’s around this time that I slowly started to approach the Adventure Time methodology to characters. In Adventure Time, the characters always had such varying hairstyles, clothing, and outfits that I adored- differing from episode to episode. I decided that any Morgan and any Soone will still be Morgan and Soone no matter how they looked, and actually focused on less of a central design (though I still liked the central design).

2-27-2022

A bit more of a “Realistic” Morgan and Soone. I think optimally, I’d love to draw Morgan like this more. Her design here as a more androgynous character is something I really wish I could do more often, instead of falling back on the easier to draw very-feminine Morgan. I based this design a lot on the Fate character Enkidu, whose androgynous design I’ve fallen deeply in love with (specifically, this one, which is one of my more memorable adored arts that I can think of).

4-01-2022

Morgan but ACTUALLY more real. I couldn’t get the colors right, so I left things as black and white. I’m still extremely happy with it though. I initially posted it for this year’s Pride Month, but then mentally removed it, since I felt I’d rather have a fully complete piece.

[------ END ------]

There are a few more Morgan pieces here and there, but maybe I’ll place out a few posts with them, so that I can put out the process and WIPs separately. As it stands, this post has run pretty long, and ended up being a lot more detailed than I had initially planned for. I ended up finishing the draft for this post at 4:40 AM, though I had initially posted it nearly 10 hours earlier. I ranted a lot, but I think it was nice to type all this out. Not sure who’d be interested in reading all this, but thanks for sticking through. I’m glad that I was able to write out so much for Morgan though. I also hope I can draw her more often, and post her everywhere. I hope that other people also like her as well. I hope everybody has a great day and night.

Thank you for reading.

Luna

[alenadragonne]

15 questions, however many people

Tagged by @rosieposiepuddingnpie (was finally able to have the time and memory to actually do one of these lol)

1. Are you named after anyone? My dad actually! His name is also Bobbi. Except it’s spelled the masculine way. And he’s technically named after his grandfather Robert.

2. When was the last time you cried? It’s actually been a while now. Long enough for the short term memory to forget how long it’s been. But it’s usually quite often for one reason or another. Perhaps it was right around Christmas?

3. Do you have kids? No but I want kids so very bad. I love children so much. Every age group is great for different reasons!

4. Do you use sarcasm? Naturally? No. If I was taught it I never would have used it or realized it existed. I’ve forced myself to use it but I really only do it with people I super duper trust because I’m often mistaken for being completely serious. It’s not a concept that comes easily for me.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people? How they greet me, if at all. How they hold themselves, are the being forced to introduce themselves? Are they making the first move so to speak? Is their handshake confident or slacked? Do they even bother with a handshake ( understandably of course, Covid is still alive and well). Then it’s physical stuff like hair, eyes, and mouth. I stare at peoples mouths when they talk so really it’s probably mouth and teeth right after eyes.

6. What's your eye color? Hazel, but like REALLY dark hazel. They are a perfect mix of my moms very dark brown eyes and my dads dark green eyes. So they look brown from afar until they get direct light then you can see the inner ring is more green and the outer ring is completely brown.

7. Scary movies or happy endings? I like both, it really depends on the expectations the movie sets for itself. Like if I go into a happy movie and I’m scared I’ll be upset. But scary movies should be scary imo. I also hate spoilers and love surprises so I try to avoid spoiling myself.

8. Any special talents? Uh drawing? I guess. But I consider that more of a learned skill than a talent. I just started young. I’d say as far as special, I can make a clown horn noise with my throat by restricting air flow and then breathing fast. Kids love it, and honestly adults do too.

9. Where were you born? Texas, been here my whole life. :/

10. What are your hobbies? Drawing. Recently got an iPad and Apple Pencil and the barrier for my brain to start drawing is was less. Booting up my laptop often was too many hurdles and it made me draw less. Also reading fanfic for sure. I’m constantly looking for good fics. (I’d write but I’m ass at writing and the thought of posting any of my shitty writing makes me feel ill)

11. Do you have any pets? Yes!!! I have two sweet boys named Faendal and Chonk. Faendal is a shelter mutt. He’s white with very light tan spots and big ole pointed ears that stick straight up. And Chonk is a Pittbull, Labrador, Husky mix. Yeah you read that right. Although he has none of the physical traits of lab or husky. He looks Pitt but he’s got the braincells of a lab and the mouth of a husky.

12. What sports do you play/have you played? No sportsball. I danced competitively in highschool though on the local drill team. And I was what my friends so lovingly called a “mathlete” since I was like 10. I competed in mental math basically.

13. How tall are you? 5'4” ish

14. Favorite subject in school? Math, Physics, Art

15. Dream job? Gosh idk if I have a dream job anymore. When I was a teenager my answer would have been pediatrician. But now idk. I toy with the idea of doing art for a living. But I’m afraid of the job market and I’m not good at selling myself. And also do I wanna make my favorite hobby my job? And then I’m rather good at math so I should utilize it right? That’s what every one tells me. “You have such a unique skill set being so good at math, it would be so easy to get a math degree and a great job.” But would I be bored? Idk that’s a loaded question.

Idk who I should tag 🤔 perhaps @naked-aardvark (although you never do them ಠ_ಠ) @theheightofdishonor if ya feeling up to it. And of course anyone I didn’t tag and wants to!

[lostvi21]

I finished it 😁 After two weeks of concept, developing the character and drawing this piece, I can proudly announce that I've finished this drawing.

And I've learned soo much in the process. I'm still not sure how I got the horn that shiny but I love his yellow eye and the fire in the background.

I also integrated him into my head-canons for my story "In-Between". His name is Derag and he is a half Demon destroying one world after another. In the process of planning this piece, I took a day time to write a chapter of his story and I also got this to a point where I can call the chapter finished (maybe it's not perfect but I can still improve on writing the next one)

Here it is, if you want to read it (Trigger Warning: descriptive violence):

<...>

One tried to crawl away, even after I cut off his leg. I picked my staff out of the corpse in front of me and slowly walked towards him, "Oh, and on what kind of adventure did you want to embark on?" He was still focusing on getting away but I clearly heard his huffing become louder.

It didn't take long for me to reach him and I kicked him to the ground. He was staring at me with fear and oh, how did I love that expression. The moment when you realize that it'll be over soon. That you don't stand a chance. That you're powerless. I couldn't hold back a smile spreading on my face, "Hey, I asked you something." I ram my staff into his shoulder. He screamed, but since he was the last one, that wasn't a problem at all. I enjoyed it.

I started to spin my weapon around, digging a deep hole in his shoulder, "Honestly, if you had answered me, I might have considered ending it quickly. But now, I don't want to. That's why I'll make it painful. Because you acted rude." I fixed him on the floor by pushing my staff through and took a couple of steps back, "As you can probably imagine, I don't get many possibilities to talk to somebody. But you …"

I turned my attention back to my victim, "… You're boring." I pulled out my staff and sliced his neck. And after he stopped choking there was only calming silence left. Surprisingly, it didn't last for too long. I heard whispers coming from not too far. Were there more than these couple of people? Then why didn't I notice them earlier?! That guy's scream probably warned them! God, dammit! I need to get rid of them quickly before they manage to warn anyone!

I walked towards that direction. I was confirmed to be going in the right direction as the whispers turned into terrified screams. As I arrived at the source of the voices, I was standing before a group of young women. They pushed one of them towards me, causing her to trip and fall. One of them exclaimed, "W-We give you this sacrifice and you leave us alive!"

… I wasn't expecting that. I wouldn't have thought they would be the kind of people 'sacrificing' somebody to save their own skin. What do they think I am?! A bloodthirsty demon, who feeds on his victims? Hah! Then I realized I was still staring at the woman in front of me. She didn't even dare to look up at me. These women were not different from the men I killed earlier. I couldn't stand people like them.

I grabbed my staff and threw it towards the one who talked. The tip of the blade impaled her through her chest against a tree. The others screamed. As one tried to run away, I grabbed her by her neck and choked her to death, "You know, I hate people who abuse weaker ones to hide their own weakness." I dropped the corpse on the floor. One of them stood there terrified with that priceless expression on her face. As I walked towards her she started begging with teary eyes, "P-Please! D-Don't kill me! I-" I smashed her against a tree, causing her to drop dead.

Then I turned my attention to the woman on the floor. She still didn't move an inch and tried not to cry. I guess she was scared. Strangely, I was hesitating about what to do. Normally, I would go and make her death quick, but for some reason that felt wrong this time. Maybe it was because I witnessed how the others treated her.

I went over to the tree and pulled my staff out of the stem, causing the corpse to drop on the floor, "You know, I hate to kill women but these ones were insufferable and deserved it." I noticed how she sat up behind me. As I looked at her, she froze. It almost seemed as if she would have stopped breathing for me to not notice her. But now I was able to see her face for the first time. Her tearful face with her green eyes staring at me hopelessly.

I crouched down in front of her, "They did you pretty bad, huh?" She was still staring at me but carefully nodded. I tilted my head to the side, "Tell me, what's your name?" She answered after a couple of seconds, "A-Amelia." I smiled at her, "It's a pity, I have to kill you, Amelia. But sadly, you would go and warn others about me." I expected her to say she wouldn't and beg for her life, but she didn't. I guess she was probably the type of person to freeze in fear.

I straightened up and stretched, "But the least I can do is promise to make it short and painless." "… C-Can I ask for a last wish?!" I looked surprised at Amelia. She was just going to accept that? Not going to beg for her life? … interesting. I responded carelessly, "A wish?" She seemed to gather all her confidence to speak, "I - … I-If I h-have to … to die … Can I … Can I a-at least k-know your name?"

I burst into laughter, "Hahaha! I wasn't expecting this! You're about to be killed and your last wish is to know my name…" I crouched down and gently took her face causing her to flinch, "You don't need to waste your final wish to know my name, sweetheart. But surprisingly for all the worlds I have been in, you're the first one to ask for it. But it's not that many people would have meaningful conversations with me…"

I got up and prepared my staff to chop her head off, "My name is Derag. I also like to call myself destroyer of worlds… Do you have any last words, Amelia?" First, she stared at the floor. But then, she looked up with a smile, "M-Maybe we meet again in another life, Derag." How was it possible that she smiled in a situation like this? Where was that fearful face of realization when everything comes to an end?

She was … different. I wasn't used to that kind of behaviour causing me to hesitate once again. Then I swang my staff and … I stopped. She didn't move. She didn't even flinch as I was about to cut her head off. She only scrunched her face up, preparing for what came next. But I stopped before the blade reached her neck.

I didn't want to do this. Not to her. Not after she was the only person ever really talking to me. She was betrayed by the other women, gathered all of her confidence to speak to me and it should end like this? That wouldn't be fair, would it? I took my staff aside and she opened her emerald-green eyes. She even looked a little confused.

I was desperate to explain the situation, "I, sigh … Listen, I don't want to kill you, okay? But If I let you go, you'll warn the others and I cannot allow that to happen." She looked at her now-dead companions, "… I guess they would already know if I returned alone." Then she stared scared at me again. I avoided looking at her face and looked back at the corpses. If I couldn't let her go back and didn't want to kill her, then what was I supposed to do with her?

Suddenly, I had an idea, "Amelia… You were the nicest person, I've ever met. So I want to make you an offer. Normally I would kill everyone in a world and then erase it, but I could make a little exception. If you want, you can come with me, or stay in this world. It's your decision."

I reached her my hand. She looked at it with her eyes wide open. Then she looked at me again, "I … I want to go with you." She took my hand and I helped her get up. I smiled at her, "Alright. Then we should leave, Amelia. I'll have enough time to destroy this world the next time." I called out for shadow and he brought us to my world.

<…>

(And if you want to know what happened before, I don't know either 😂 Maybe I'll figure it out after some time, maybe not)

[the-acid-pear]

Alright this is the first time the eyepatch appears, around the end of 2018. 2018 was also the first time the bandages appeared, though those didn't last shit, and neither did the other scar.

By the way most damage Luluco has was based on me actually getting injured I think the eye scar came from me fucking cutting near my brow or maybe on my cheek. Though I have no clue about the eye, I know in universe it was always Takochu's fault but idk irl.

Also you can still see the abdomen scar from the very first eye drawing here

The first drawing was the first time I drew it again.

There was also this brief period where I was gonna make em be fingerless before giving up though seeing the ring I think it'd be funny if their finger was cut up to the knuckle leaving just enough for the ring. That'd be fun. I might do that. Same reason as the scar btw real injury translated to oc.

I did. Huh. Lmao.

Because I used to draw little things for future me at the end of each year, right? And 2018 was a shit year so I didn't have much, but I did end with "(...) so I'll just tell you to get ready for the apocalypse and Happy 2019!".

If this was fiction I'd say that foreshadowing was a bit too heavy handed.

One last note while I can't find the actual first time I drew the horns it looks like it was on 2018 where my whole "I'm the devil" era started. Also I don't know how I entirely neglected to mention Luluco's missing leg until now I guess that just happened sometime. The first drawing is clearly a character ref compiling as many previous and new traits as possible I realize now.

How far has this little guy come!

MOST CURIOUS it was only in 2019 when Luluco lost their eye. The mouth and eye appeared in 2017 tho.

[talesofesther]

Traces of dark ink on your skin

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Moments in which you discover Eddie's tattoos.

A/N: A little idea that I had and thought would be cute to write something about <3.

Masterlist

The first time you saw one of Eddie Munson's tattoos was also the first time you properly spoke with him.

It was Ms. O'Donnell's class, not your favorite, you must admit. She wasn't the kindest of teachers, always running out of patience quite quickly plus her tests were the absolute worst, you lost count of how many nights went by with you wide awake and a book glued to your face.

The sharp tone of her voice made you look away from your textbook. Her hands moved around wildly, ordering an annoyed Eddie to sit in the front of the class. In the previous class, you had a project in pairs, the desks were still paired together and there just so happened to have an available seat right beside you.

Eddie plopped down on the chair with a huff, arms crossed and glaring at the older woman writing on the board.

You observed his profile; his messy, curly brown hair being highlighted by the sun coming through the window from the other side of the room. He was different up close, his chaotic attitude that made you laugh in the lunchroom was now a polar opposite to the gentleness of his chocolate brown eyes; which you just realized, were staring right back at you.

Eddie raised a cautious eyebrow, straightening in his seat with a smirk. "See something you like?" He didn't give you time to answer, smile wavering the tiniest bit. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna bite you or anything."

One corner of your lips quirked up, you took note of his effort to sit by the far end of the table, furthest away from you. "I didn't think you would."

It was muscle memory to assume most students who weren't inside his social circle wanted the distance. Eddie relaxed with your words, and more so with how you leaned towards him with a smile of your own.

Ten minutes after mindlessly doodling on his textbook instead of writing down what was on the board, Eddie shrugged off his jacket; the warm sunlight right over him was becoming too hot.

He laid the black leather jacket on the table between you two, your eyes followed the motion, traveling from the ring on his hand to his forearm. You furrowed your brows in concentration, black inked strokes adorned the inside of Eddie's forearm.

You tilted your head, not so subtly trying to catch a better look until the arm was turned and you had a clear view of the drawing.

Feeling eyes on you as well, you glanced up.

Eddie was looking at you with a lopsided smile. "It's a puppet, and its master." He tipped his nose towards his arm.

The puppet was devilish looking, with two small horns on its head as a hand with sharp claws held the strings. You couldn't help yourself, you raised a timid hand and touched his skin, fingertips tracing the outline of the tattoo.

You smirked, Eddie's skin became littered with goosebumps. He ducked his head with his gaze focused on every muscle twitch of your face.

"It's pretty." You concluded, your palm now flush against his arm, just under the drawing. Thumb running gently over one of the last lines. You caught a glimpse of other dark lines just below his elbow, you decided to let your curiosity linger for a little longer.

Eddie's cheeks were flushed. Pretty wouldn't exactly be the word he'd use to describe the sketched lines on him. But he loved the sound of it in your voice.

______

You already called Eddie your friend by the time you saw two more of his tattoos.

A low guitar solo from a band you couldn't name played from the speakers in his room. Eddie's bedroom, as messy as it was, became one of your favorite places to be.

Eddie laid on his bed, his head resting by the end of it with his guitar resting on his stomach. He stroked the strings in random patterns.

You sat on the ground, back leaning against the bed just beside Eddie. You twirled a strand of his hair on your fingers while reading a book.

His familiar presence was enough to ease any nerves that might have been bothering you. Eddie had a warmth to him, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. The words in your book looked like a foreign language. Slowly bringing your hand up to the side of his head, you scratched his scalp; Eddie hummed, closing his eyes and turning his head towards you, from his position on the bed, his forehead was almost resting on your shoulder as he nuzzled closer. You knew he felt the same.

Getting up to go to the bathroom felt like the hardest of chores. But you had to get ready, Eddie was buzzing with excitement that you'd be joining Hellfire tonight.

You wandered back to his room with a smile, that faded quickly once you crossed the threshold, along with your ability to breathe.

Eddie had his back to you, no shirt on, rummaging through his closet. The muscles on his back were evident under the soft yellow light as he scratched his head.

They were bats, you realized. The black strokes you had a glimpse of, that day in class, were bats. And just above the newly discovered tattoo laid another. A dragon-looking snake, mouth opened in a growl with spikes on its back.

You were itching to walk closer and trace the lines with your fingers. But the room felt too hot, and your heart was loud in your ears.

The drawings were covered by the black sleeves of Eddie's Hellfire shirt before you could memorize the details. A breath you had been holding in your lungs escaped when he turned to you.

Eddie's smile was huge, his hands halfway to reaching out to you before he tucked them in his pockets. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

______

When you discovered the last of Eddie's tattoos, the circumstances were less than ideal.

The raw fear and dread still lingered, even now, more than a week after it all happened. The wounds, both physical and emotional, were still too fresh.

Sometimes you wake up at night, and your mind can't remember quick enough that Eddie is fine, alive. Sometimes, for those five seconds right after you wake up panting and covered in a cold sweat, you fear that you woke up to a world without him.

You don't talk to him about it, he's been through enough. Though you know he knows there's something wrong. You can tell by the way he always insists on touching you; playing with your fingers as you sit by his hospital bed, loosely holding one of your hands while you drive him home, a tight hug and words of "I'm right next door" last night before bed. Everything to assure you he's there.

Today was Eddie's second night back from the hospital, his bandages needed changing. You had been adamant about being the one who took care of him, not even giving him room to argue about staying at your house.

Eddie sat on your couch, with loose black sweatpants and a worn Metallica shirt, it was heartwarming to see him so casual and relaxed.

You walked into the living room carrying a fresh set of bandages and antiseptics, clutching at the white cloth when Eddie smiled at you. So sweet, so gentle; that the partly healed scratches on his cheek and down his neck made you gulp down the bile that rose to your throat.

You sat down beside him and pointed at his shirt. "Can I?"

He nodded, raising his arms with a hiss for you to remove his shirt. You did it carefully, almost too carefully and slowly. And you had to summon all your strength to keep your composure when he was bare before you. His abdomen, chest, and part of his arms were covered in bandages; some taped in, and some wrapped around him. Yet a few of the minor gashes on his skin peeked through, healing, but still with a reddish color. He had purple and yellow bruises too, they made your stomach turn unpleasantly.

He was so beat up, moving carefully while still feelings bits of pain here and there. It all shouldn't be there.

You exhaled sharply, discarding his shirt to the side and raising shaky hands to put his hair up in a bun and out of your way.

Eddie's soft gaze never left you, he was silent, watching you move about. You had that small frown on your eyebrows that he wanted to kiss away, you were cursing under your breath when your very unsteady hands failed to tie up his hair on the first try, and you didn't notice the single tear running down your cheek as you were about to redo the first dressing on a smaller wound.

He raised a gentle thumb to your chin, making you freeze, your mouth went dry. Timidly looking up, your gaze was meant to find his eyes but stopped on his chest.

A spider and a skull, you pursed your lips with a smile seeing the tattoos, somehow it wasn't a surprise. The spider was a black widow and the skull had funny-looking hair, the details were scattered though, being torn apart by bites and scratches that shouldn't be there.

"Why not?" Eddie's voice was tender, it made you jump anyway, your eyes finally found his and you realized you had said the words out loud.

"It's a pretty sick skull." He reasoned with a smirk and a tilt to his eyebrow.

Your jaw was set tightly in a cheap attempt to keep at bay the tears stinging the back of your eyes. "Yeah, it just shouldn't be this damaged." You ducked your head, voice so low you were surprised he even heard you.

The deep brown eyes you came to love were shining with emotions that matched your own. Eddie shifted closer, he silently asked for permission before pulling your body to his, as if you'd ever say no.

You all but melted against him, your head resting on his collarbone. His arms around you squeezed tightly, not caring about the distant pain that came with the movement; Eddie needed the comfort just as much as you.

He kissed your hairline, mumbling promises of "I'm sorry" and "I'd never leave you."

You kissed the black lines that formed the spider on his chest and heard the constant beating of his heart. You brought one hand to rest on top of it, to feel the rhythmic thudding just because you could.

You made a promise to yourself to plant a kiss on each one of the black-inked lines adorning Eddie's body, and one day to what would be the scars of the day you almost lost him, but didn't.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Eddie’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @alicefallsintotherabbithole @bambi-laufeyson @boooil @science--hoes @cherrypieyourface @tssf-imagines @daph-505 @astream-ofconsciousness @fentyreligion @fantasylovestoryme @justabeautiful-letdown @crazyrapunzel @yessica41 @dancing-hillary @bakugouswh0r3 @hehehehannahthings @jakebasement @zervopoulouu @forverdaydreamer-blog @fromthedt @oeuryale @mcueveryday @palah @witchbinchstories

@call-me-magpie @loveshineslikethesky @luvmybbies @tvserie-s-world @agirlsguidetolove @hallothankmas @ribyourtoplip @sweetpeapod @harringt8ns @forsaken-letters @hazydespair @munsonzzgf @fangirling-4-ever @electric-cabaret @ollyoxenfrees @linkpk88  @twinkofmydreams @ribyourtoplip @paola-carter @masterlistmanic @boomhauer

[weirdgirl92]

Some info dumps on my Cuphead OCs

@firecurls-27 @nightmaretherabbit @marshmallow-biscuit-blog @zibiscusloon @anawkwardgalnamedtarazan @ur-typical-nerd @dnpanimationstudioclone

As you might already know, these past few months I’ve been stressing over how I’m going to introduce my Cuphead OCs here on this site, since: 1.) I have a LOT of Cuphead OCs, and 2.) I can’t draw for shit (literally, I only have one OC design finished so far). So, I’ve decided to suck it up, and just introduce most of them with only written descriptions for now.

((Remember what I said about having only one OC design completed so far? Well, this was the one I was talking about, and even then the wings don’t look quite right…))

Briar

A snarky, free-spirited forest sprite and my ��main” Cuphead OC, who came from a hidden island called The Willow.

In sprite years, she’s 360 years old, which is basically 18 in mortal years (in my AU, a forest sprite ages every 20 years, which is the same amount of time a tree matures).

An outcast among her race, since she was “born different”. She can’t physically use magic to heal herself like other sprites can; and despite having plant magic, she’s really only able to conjure up mutant plants (and before you ask, no, this is NOT my fanon origin story for Cagney Carnation, though, Bry does kinda befriend him later on).

Has very unstable fire and hurricane powers that are only triggered when she’s very angry, which is why she always tries to keep her temper in check; she’s also the only sprite of her kind that can shape shift. There’s a reason for both of these things, which I can’t give away yet, because it’s a big spoiler.

Loves to play pranks on others, because it stems from a coping mechanism she’s had when other sprites would leave her out of “normal forest sprite activities”, since her magic was deemed too dangerous and unpredictable.

Initially runs away from home to find out more about her powers and where they actually came from, but ends up getting so wrapped up in her newfound freedom and finally settles down in Inkwell Isles, where she develops a huge fondness for jazz music and chocolate.

Is 4 inches tall at normal sprite height, but can make herself grow up to “human height” whenever she feels necessary to do so.

First time she met Cuphead and Mugman was sometime after the events of Sweater Luck Next Time. See, Mugs suggested he and Cups go on a relaxing camping trip together with Elder Kettle, to get his mind off The Devil; but during the night BEFORE that, Briar came across burnt remains of the forest that The Devil destroyed in his attempt to destroy the invisible sweater. This made her very frustrated, not just because of how long it’d take for one forest sprite to heal, but because of how limited her plant magic was. Then, after a miscommunication with the local forest animals, she mistakes Cuphead and Mugman for “that weird horned creature’s two little cohorts”. So, she used her powers to try and scare the two cups away from the forest they were camping in; but after realizing they were just kids who have an elderly caretaker, she revealed herself to them, explained her story and apologized for the misunderstanding.

When Briar first met The Devil, she wasn’t the least bit intimidated by him, because she’s heard so many stories about a devil over the years, that she was kind of disappointed to find that he was nothing more than a fluffy noodle with a childish temper. This bruised his ego so much more, that he made it his mission to find out what her worst fear is (all while trying to snag Cuppy’s soul).

Eventually, she develops a very tsundere-ish crush on The Devil, but refuses to let anyone know about it.

She also gets along very well with Henchman, because of his gentle and unassuming nature, and because of his willingness to listen whenever something on her mind is bothering her (he’s such a mom friend, I swear).

Mother Nature

Guardian of The Willow and mother figure to all sprites who live there, including Briar.

Is a GIANT woman (I’m talking Cala Maria height).

Proper, elegant, usually soft-spoken, but can be very fierce and strict as well.

Has pale green skin, doe-like ears, forest green eyes, silver antlers; and long, wavy, floating hair that slowly changes to any color of the rainbow.

When she gets angry, however, her hair becomes a fiery orange-red and looks like the shape of a giant flame, while her antlers become sharper and more pointed.

Wears a long flowing dark green robe that accentuates her curves.

Is very adamant about Briar keeping her powers in check, even if it means having her sit quietly on the sidelines for a while as other forest sprites preform their daily tasks of keeping The Willow alive and growing.

Lord Apollyon

The Devil’s evil bastard of a father, and the demon of discord and destruction.

Used to be an angel before he got booted out of Heaven for rebelling against God, but as he fell, he split some of himself up into 7 more demons, which (in my personal headcanon) was how The Devil and his 6 brothers were born.

When all 7 his sons came of age, Apollyon gifted each one of them their own pitchfork, their own henchman demon, and their own “underworld” on Earth for them to rule over and spread out his evil….all except for young Lucifer (Devil), because he was much too small and weak. Though, after much begging and pleading from Luci, Apollyon nonchalantly gave him a pitchfork that was more unstable and hard to control, along with a fat clumsy purple henchman demon (whom Luci would eventually name “Henchman”, because he’s just so terrible with names).

His upper body resembles a Siberian tiger, but with pitch black fur and small white stripes, while his lower body resembles a black snake, and his wings are leathery torn up dragon wings.

His horns are silver and look like ram horns.

Has scarlet red dragon eyes.

His pitchfork is made of lead (I chose to make it that way, because lead symbolizes death and sin).

Asmodel

Is based on Asmodeus, the demon of lust.

Is a scarlet red demon whose head and torso resemble a dragon/goat hybrid. (( Basically, like this, but without the long fangs sticking out of the lower jaws:))

Has the legs of a dragon, tail of a scorpion, and arms that look like talons of a harris hawk.

Wears a dark cape decorated with two large skulls on the shoulders: a bull skull on the left, and a ram skull on the right; also wears a black furry loin cloth with a silver chain as the belt, and a tiny rat skull in the middle of it.

A total sleazebag, and womanizer. Briar is especially uncomfortable around him, because he’d tend to flirt with her right in front of The Devil, which in turn makes HIM very uncomfortable, and angry (though he swears it’s totally not out of jealousy, nope, not at all).

Extremely vain, and incredibly extra (which is pretty much why he wears a dramatic looking cape all the time).

Loves to gamble and was the original owner of the casino, before Devil won it from him in a game of poker (thanks to a little card trick King Dice taught him when they were young).

His pitchfork is made of antimony, since it’s a metal that symbolizes “animalistic urges”.

His henchman is a goat-legged imp named Deva.

Beez/Beelzebub

The demon of gluttony.

Looks like a giant, morbidly obese bat with orange fur, black horns, and bat wings that are orange on the outside and black on the inside.

Is very infamous for stealing people’s crops.

Has the ability to use his powerful breath to inhale and suck in anything he chooses to devour.

Commands an army of fly demons (and yes, I did base this off of actual demon myths of Beelzebub and the Order of the Flies).

His pitchfork’s made of brass, since brass symbolizes “abundance” in life.

His henchman’s an imp named Grub, who has a pig-like nose, pig-like ears, and tiny insect wings.

Maymun

Is based on Mammon, the demon of greed.

A wolf demon with charcoal colored fur, dark gold claws, long gold spikes on his elbows and shoulders, a long black dragon tail with tiny gold spikes, and ivory colored horns with gold tips on his head.

His eyes have a bronze colored sclera with golden amber irises.

Often disguises himself as a “normal-looking” anthropomorphic white wolf to scam unsuspecting mortals out of their riches.

Has tried to cheat The Devil out of his casino on occasion, but was unsuccessful each time.

Does NOT get along with Asmodel at all, mostly due to their common obsession with gambling.

His pitchfork’s made of copper, since copper is said to attract money and good fortune.

His henchman is a fox-eared, frog-legged imp named Mulciber.

Leviathan

Based on the envy demon of the same name.

Is a giant sea serpent with bluish-green scales, a silver underbelly, large transparent gills on the sides of his face, icy blue eyes, and emerald green horns.

Uses his roar as a siren call to command any sea creature to do his bidding.

Has the ability to breath fire under water.

He also eats electricity, and his tail can produce electric shocks to paralyze his victims.

Is bitter rivals with Cala Maria, because he wants to be known as the most fearsome creature in the ocean, and hates that she’s stealing his thunder.

His pitchfork’s made of blue cobalt, since cobalt is often considered an “ocean metal”.

His henchman’s a sea slug looking imp named Nudi.

Belial

The demon of wrath and Apollyon’s favorite son.

Is a crimson red dragon demon with black horns, small black spikes that go down from his neck, all the way to his tail; black claws, and piercing green eyes.

Usually prefers to work alone.

The other demon brothers really don’t like to talk about him that much, because they’re all terrified of him (including Devil).

His pitchfork’s made of iron, because iron represents aggression and primal rage.

Doesn’t have a henchman, but he does have a pet manticore that eats or attacks anyone he doesn’t like.

Belphy/Belphegor

The demon of sloth.

Resembles a giant light blue sloth with short dark blue horns, long razor sharp claws, and eyes that have a gray sclera with red irises.

Easily the laziest of the seven demon brothers.

Doesn’t usually take on a task unless if there’s something in it for him.

His claws can literally slice through anything.

Has the ability to enter people’s dreams, where he is most powerful (this idea I kinda stole from @anawkwardgalnamedtarazan, lol, sorry).

His henchman’s a bat-winged, donkey-eared imp named Almos.

His pitchfork’s made of magnesium, because it’s a metal that’s said to “relax the body and brain”, and induce sleep.

So, what do you guys think? Constructive criticism is welcome, of course, because there’s probably some things about these characters I might want to change in the future.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

was it a dream, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): yoongi x reader x jungkook

summary: You fucked Min Yoongi on Jeon Jungkook’s bed, then you took Jungkook’s virginity because Yoongi told you to, and still you and Yoongi don’t know what the fuck you are because, let’s face it, everything is too complicated now – so I guess that’s grounds to let Jungkook cum all over your face and tits as Yoongi fucks you? Sure, whatever.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, alcohol consumption; no one wants to admit anything and there’s no closure tbh; fluff and feels; smut (fem reader, threesome, semi-public sex, fingering, f-receiving oral, nipple play, penetrative sex, doggy, facial, cum-eating); non-idol!AU - friends with benefits / lovers? with Yoongi and JK

a–dick–ted au, but can be read alone.

–

next on ‘dreams‘ playlist > pretty ting by bibi ft. kim seungmin > te quiero by twly ft bibi

"I get bored."

"Mhm."

"I don't like lingering."

"Mmm."

"... We're still in front of the house, Yoongi."

"I know where we are."

Min Yoongi was peeling your black hoodie up and over your head. Well, actually, his hoodie. It made your now red hair cascade down over your shoulders, wisping around your red bra straps. Yoongi was the one who suggested you to dye your hair. You didn't do it for him. You were going to do it anyway. 

Right.

Whiskey on his breath, leaning in. Tasting like danger and sex, just because it was him. 

"I like this skirt," Yoongi purred. "It's tiny."

He was referring to your plaid red skirt. Almost schoolgirl-style, except no schoolgirl wore anything that short. You used to wear it in high school when you went to the arcades on weekends. Back then, you were much skinner and trying to unsuccessfully hook-up with guys. You still fit into it, waist-wise. Ass-wise.... not so much. You filled out over the years. 

"It's cold."

Yoongi hummed knowingly. His hands worked up your thighs, spreading them out. Pushed down your black thigh-high socks so he could knead more of them. 

"You still wore it though."

Well, yeah. You weren't trying to pick up random guys anymore. Only Min Yoongi. Every time, at these loud ass house parties with too many drunk people and too loud bass. It was a mess. Someone was attempting to chug a whole barrel of beer and ended up vomiting in the grass. 

Disgusting. 

"Why do you go to these things?" you muttered as Yoongi lifted one of your legs, tucking it beside him so he could stare at your clothed pussy. Red, seamless, cheeky. Not a thong. He clicked his tongue in disappointment, but you ignored him. 

"Free alcohol."

"Really?" you snorted, backing up a little as his hand neared. "I could just buy whiskey and bring it to you if you want free alcohol that bad."

Yoongi smirked, licking his pink lips. Wet, glistening. You wanted them on your clit right now. His fingers dipped down, stroking the smooth red fabric lightly. Too lightly. Teasing you. You twisted the urge to raise your hips for more pressure. 

"Where's the fun in that?"

You raised an eyebrow. 

Yoongi pressed down, fingertips shoving the fabric into you, soaking it instantly. You sucked in a breath, staring into his dark, cat-like eyes.

"Why do that when I can make you jealous by going to these parties and having you wonder if I've kissed someone else, touched someone else, fucked someone else?"

He rubbed your clit through the fabric and you gritted your teeth, moving your hand down, but Yoongi was faster, slapping it away. Rubbed harder, a low moan leaving your throat. You didn't want to reach up with your other hand because you might lose balance and hit your steering wheel and accidentally honk your horn. That would be a disaster. 

Yeah.

Of course, that’s why you weren’t stopping him now.

"I don't care what you do, Yoongi," you panted, glaring at him. 

Different house, different party, same car, the correct scene this time, with the right guy in your car, getting you off through your panties. 

Why don't you have a boyfriend?

That was Yoongi's first question when he slid into your car this night. Looking fine as hell with his black-and-white flannel, gray t-shirt, black cargo pants, black sneakers. Straight black hair covering his eyes, a clean undercut when he pushed it back to smirk at you. 

Yoongi curled his finger, now grinding your clit with his knuckle. Oh, fuck. Your juices leaked into your panties, darkening the wet spot and filling the car with your scent. Close.

"You don't care, hm?" Yoongi mused in a tone implying that he knew you cared. Very much. After all, what happened last time… You don't slap bitches across the face for no good reason. 

"She was making out with someone who couldn't consent from my point of view."

There was a dark sparkle of mischief in Yoongi's eyes. 

"Who was? I wasn't referring to anything in particular."

Shit. 

Your face heated and you grinded into his hand, breathing hard, not caring anymore. Whatever. Who cares what Min Yoongi thought? You were going to get off and whether he was there or not didn't fucking matter. Yoongi pressed his knuckle into you, dark hair shadowing his eyes, soft exhales as he watched you near your peak. 

"Cum for me," Yoongi breathed, raspy and deep. "Right here, in front of this party, in your panties, and on my hand."

He could make you do anything. 

You bit your lip and pressed the back of your head into the car window, shutting your eyes, letting the whines out. Pleasure warming you, tendrils of heat crawling up your torso from Yoongi's hand, your soft voice telling him he was so good and he was purring your name, drawing it out, so sexy in his husky tone saturated with lust. 

"A-ah, Yoongi..."

Your back arched and your breathing hiked, onto the edge and then falling, falling, Yoongi's knuckle suddenly slicker, your hips rocking and shivering, whimpering as the pleasure shocked your heart, beating so fast and hard that you felt your pulse in your throat. You heard Yoongi snicker, spreading his fingers out, pressing them to your wet panties, shoving them into your folds, rubbing soothingly.

"I like this most," came his smokey whisper behind your closed lids. "I always have the most fun with you."

You're such a bad boy, Min Yoongi. 

You breathed out in long, smooth breaths, trying to calm your speeding heartbeat. Yoongi's hand still on your crotch, the other on your thigh, squeezing it.

"Noona, open the door."

A muscle in your eyebrow twitched. You sucked on your tongue and opened your eyes. A clear voice with silvery depth. It had come from behind your head. You made eye contact with Yoongi. 

He looked thoroughly amused. 

You turned your head partway to see your side mirror. Yup. Ash blond hair, dark eyes, black tattoos as his right hand tapped your car window, tan skin, sharp jawline. White turtleneck, white denim jacket over it. Black jeans.

The wrong guy. Jeon Jungkook. 

You heard your car doors click and, out of the corner of your eye, you saw Yoongi press the button to unlock them. Hmph. Jungkook moved from the front seat to open the backseat. Climbed in like he owned the damn place. He also smelled like alcohol, but all kinds, unlike Yoongi's whiskey scent. 

"Hey, hyung."

"Hello, Jungkook."

You didn't look at him. 

"Hey, noona."

"Get out of my car," you spat.

"Should I get out of the car, hyung?"

"No. She doesn't mean it."

You glared daggers at Yoongi, who smirked widely. Your legs were spread open in Yoongi's lap, your hoodie was off, there was a giant wet spot between your thighs, your skirt was far too short to cover anything, and your red hair was in disarray, fucked up by Yoongi's insistence. Your eyes flickered to Jungkook, who looked back at you. You thought he would be gazing at your body, but he wasn't. He was staring at your face. 

Somehow, that was worse.

Your neck heated and you looked away from those brown eyes, to the house. Jungkook's female harem was at the porch, gaggling at your car. Seven of them. Why was there seven? That's a random number, you thought. They were beginning to recognize your car. Hmph. Well, you can have him, just leave me and Yoongi alo–

You gasped as Jungkook pulled the lever of your seat, dumping you to the back of the car, scooping his arm around your shoulders, grabbing your head and kissing you hard, tasting like alcohol and smelling like laundry and the sea. You moaned into his mouth as Yoongi slipped under your panties and shoved two fingers into you, grunting at your tightness. Jungkook's soft tongue slid into your lips, your name mumbled onto your tongue, rubbing it as Yoongi fingered you. Too much simulation at once. Jungkook's free hand pushed up your bra, exposing one of your breasts and pinching your nipple. You whined, hips bucking into Yoongi's hand, too much, it was too much, Jungkook’s rough kisses and Yoongi's long fingers, and you felt the wet squelch as it all spilled out, gushing down Yoongi's hand, chest heaving in Jungkook's arms, moaning your release into the younger man's mouth. 

Jungkook broke the kiss, scrambling down as Yoongi removed his fingers. Yoongi brought them to his face and swirled his tongue around his digits. He hummed approvingly around his fingers as you whined, feeling Jungkook's hot tongue lap up the rest, licking at your swollen clit, sensitive from Yoongi's prior work.

"Don't put your dirty tongue on me after you've ate out other girls all night," you gritted out, hand reaching down to grip Jungkook's blond hair. Not pulling him away, but not pushing him in either. 

"I didn't eat anyone out," Jungkook murmured into your pussy, vibrating the slick lips with his low voice. "Hyung told me you were picking him up and that you would pick me up too."

You said no such thing. You gave Yoongi a peeved look and Yoongi just smirked around his wet fingers, smearing your juices over his lips and licking them off. You shivered and pushed Jungkook's head into your pussy, gasping as he shoved his tongue into your hole. 

The girls outside seemed to realize what was going on. They were pointing accusingly and yapping amongst themselves. Your tits were half out, after all. 

"Great, now everyone thinks I'm a slut, Yoongi," you grumbled.

"Who cares?" Yoongi said dismissively. "Anyone who talks shit is going to answer to my fist."

Jungkook lifted his head, panting for breath, chin shiny with your pussy. He didn't look outside. He simply curved his arm around Yoongi's head and flipped off anyone looking in the car. You raised your eyebrows. Thank the American culture for making the middle finger the universal 'fuck you' so that even Koreans knew what it meant. Yoongi seemed to know what Jungkook was doing and laughed huskily as Jungkook backed up, slumping in the backseat. 

"Am I supposed to drive like this?" you hissed, shoving your exposed breast back into your bra and snapping your panties into place before lowering your leg. Ugh, your underwear was soaked. You had pulled your foot out of your boot before Yoongi started pretzeling you in the driver's seat of your own damn car. You shoved your foot back into it now, fixing yourself up. Yoongi plucked the black hoodie from the driver’s seat. 

"Technically, this isn't yours."

"I thought it looked familiar," Jungkook remarked, wiping his chin and then licking off the back of his hand.

You righted your seat, rolling your eyes. 

"Whatever," you mumbled as you started your car. 

-

“Why did you make me do it?” you had asked him.

Yoongi’s lips trailed along your bare shoulder, pulling down his blanket to leave his marks on you.

“Do what?” he had murmured against your skin, making you shiver.

“The whole ‘taking-Jeon-Jungkook’s-virginity’ thing.’”

He traced your shoulder blade with his tongue. “Did I read the situation wrong?” Completely neutral, his hand coming up to run his fingers through your hair. You melted into the action, one of your favorites. It made your skin tingle and your breathing soften, releasing the tenseness in your chest. “You always tell me if I’m wrong.”

“Yeah… I do.”

“Did you hate it?”

“… No.”

Yoongi turned you around to face him, his black hair brushing against your cheeks. Eyes barely open, but seeing all of you. He collected your hair in his fingers, pushing it back and away from your neck. His lips swollen from your kisses; his fair skin nicked with pink from your bites.

“That’s good.”

His finger drew the line of your collarbone, dark orbs watching your lips part, wanting him. Pulling yourself closer to him, skin to skin, his warmth against yours. You leaned in. Yoongi didn’t move away, his breath against your lips.

“What are we?” you whispered.

“Don’t know.” His lips grazed against yours and your moaned softly into them. “Whatever you want.” Dainty, simple kisses. “We’re whatever you want. You know that.” Capturing your lips, trapping them, fingers dancing down, looping around your waist and pulling you close, chest to chest. “You want it to stay like this, it will stay like this.” Grinding against your thigh, hardening against your softness. “You want me to keep driving you crazy, you want me to keep letting Jungkook play with you, then it’ll happen.”

Deep, intense kisses, teasing you, making you addicted to him.

“You want me to go away and leave you alone, I will.”

Your arm came around and you tangled your fingers in his black hair, kissing him fiercely.

“No, don’t leave me alone,” you breathed. “Want this. Want you.”

He purred your name against your lips, flitting his tongue between them.

“Want you, Yoongi.”

-

Everyone said the same thing.

Min Yoongi is a bad boy. Min Yoongi is a playboy. Min Yoongi doesn’t care about anything. He’s just a guy who makes pretty good music, but think twice before trying to get close to him. He’s had the same friends for years and any new ones were superficial acquaintances.

You didn’t care about any of that. You weren’t really hanging out with him anyway. He was just always there when you were kind-of, sort-of dating Kim Namjoon. And it was a kind-of, sort-of because you kept it that way. Namjoon kept asking you to take it further, but you held him at a distance, saying it was too early and that you were careful with your heart.

Then It was the little things. Accidents.

A brush. A graze. A single fingertip.

Yoongi’s eyes on yours. Watching you. Challenging. It didn’t mean anything, until it did. It didn’t mean anything, until the touches got bolder, the moments got longer, and then you were in the bathroom hallway of some random club, face-to-face with Min Yoongi, and he was close, so close, but not touching you. He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at you and you knew, shit this whole thing with Namjoon is not it, because no matter how good riding Kim Namjoon’s dick was, it was not Min Yoongi’s stare that was instantly making your pussy throb.

His long fingers danced in the air. Tracing the curve of your jaw, but not touching you. Whiskey on his breath, but not breathing on you. Cocking his eyebrow at you, at you. His palm turned upwards, two fingers outstretched and, if you leaned forward, you could place you chin on them.

But you didn’t.

“Are you wet?” Yoongi whispered huskily, barely heard over the loud bass.

You blinked slowly. “Are you hard?”

His lips curved into a devious smirk.

“Yeah.”

Pause.

“Yes.”

Someone was vomiting real fucking loudly in the men’s bathroom.

Yoongi dropped his hand and took a step back. Let his eyes linger on you as he backed up and walked away, rounding the corner.

You broke up that thing with Namjoon that night. It wasn’t fair to him and he wasn’t in that deep yet, so he was chill with it. Understanding. He wasn’t getting the vibes from you either. You didn’t even know if you had vibes.

You didn’t throw yourself into Min Yoongi’s arms. That would be rude and, besides, it wasn’t like you knew him that well. But Namjoon still invited you to things, concerts and stuff, because he was a nice guy and, even if you guys weren’t dating, he was still friendly. And you went, even if you didn’t really like people. Just in case.

The first couple times, Yoongi wasn’t there.

And then he was.

And then it started again, but bolder this time, crazier things, short skirts and exploring hands, no talking, no chats, only eyes and touches, until it wasn’t, his hands curling into your shirt, shoving you against the wall and kissing you and you kissing him back, fingers slipping under his leather jacket and pushing up his shirt, nails on his skin.

His raspy voice against your puffy lips.

“Let’s have some fun.”

Always going to these damn parties, always asking you to take him home so he could take you down, gasping your name into your ear, telling you the same thing.

“I always have the most fun with you.”

Asking you how you wanted it today, from the back, from the front, against the wall, saying he’ll do anything to get you off. You want his tongue? His fingers? His dick? He would give it to you. Spread your legs open on his kitchen counter and eat you out like you were his fucking groceries.

Always reminding you.

“The best sex is still you.”

You would still go to the events Namjoon invited you to, his underground concerts, and watch Yoongi open for him every once in a while, growling into the mic and glaring at the audience, until he found you, lips curving into his trademark open-mouthed smirk that would be in between your legs later that night.

Min Yoongi is a bad boy.

Min Yoongi is a playboy.

Min Yoongi doesn’t care about anything.

So what?

You can feel however you want.

You can live however you want.

No reason to take anything seriously.

Whatever, right?

-

“Give me the fucking hoodie.”

“Nah, you can borrow Jungkook’s jacket.”

“Except you can’t button it, noona.”

You sucked in an annoyed breath. “Fine, give me the fucking jacket.”

Min Yoongi smirked, watching Jeon Jungkook strip his denim jacket and hand it to you. You put it on, scowling. “You act like it’s acid,” Yoongi chuckled.

“I’m burning,” you snapped sarcastically. “Absolutely dying being covered in Jeon Jungkook.”

“You want to be covered in Jeon Jungkook’s cum, that’s for sure.”

You took too long to respond to Yoongi’s quip. Jungkook smirked, placing his forearms on the headrest of your seat, craning his head around to look at your face. You turned away, feeling your neck and ears pulse. His ash blond hair drifted down, shading one of his brown eyes.

“Yeah, noona? Is that what you want? I’ll give it to you.”

“Shut up.”

You twisted away and got out of your car, followed by the two men. Didn’t look at either of them. It was a cold night, but your body was hot. It wasn’t covered enough. You felt an arm curve around your waist, tattoos on a tan hand. A sharp chin balancing on your red hair.

“Need your help, noona. I’m kind of drunk.”

“Let me call the Grim Reaper.”

A fair hand sliding under the denim jacket, making you hiss with the cold touch.

“You chilly?” Yoongi teased. “Need cuddles?”

You didn’t say anything. He could feel how hot your skin was, saw your ears were fucking scorching with embarrassment with how short your plaid skirt was. You locked your car, ignoring them.

“It’s only three flights of stairs,” Jungkook murmured, probably staring at your ass.

Whatever, right?

-

“Need my jacket back, noona.”

“Where’s the hoodie?” you grumbled to Yoongi.

Yoongi shrugged. “Left it in your car.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fucking typical. I’ll go get–”

Yoongi shoved you into Jungkook’s apartment.

-

“He just wants another taste.”

Warm lips on your neck, large fair-skinned hands circled with black-and-white checked flannel dancing up your bare chest, bra already gone. Jungkook already on his knees, looking up at you, licking his lips. Still in his white turtleneck and jeans.

“Look at him. Isn’t he cute? Don’t you want to shove your dripping pussy into those pink lips and grab that blond hair?”

“You’re so bad, Yoongi.”

You lifted up your skirt, so fucking short it was basically useless. You ticked your chin to your panties, damp from earlier in the car. “Help me take them off, Jungkook.”

Jungkook licked his lips again, letting his tongue dawdle before sliding it back in.

“You sure, noona?”

“Yeah.” Sucked in a breath as Yoongi teased your nipples, too familiar of a scene. “Want your mouth, please.” Rubbed them in between his fingertips and you moaned, leaning into Yoongi’s touch. “Please, Jungkook, wanna cum in your mouth.”

The side of Jungkook’s lips cocked upwards. “Of course, noona.” Reached up and hooked his fingers on the sides, pulling them down your thighs, mouth watering as he witnessed your wetness. Leaned forward and buried his nose into it, inhaling deeply, shuddering. “Smells so fucking good.”

Yoongi’s fingers leaving your breasts, running through your red hair, the hair you dyed because he causally said you should dye it red. He got it out of you eventually, both hands in your hair as he fucked you into his bed, balls slapping into you with his force, breathing in your face.

“Your hair is so fucking sexy,” he had panted. “You dyed it red because I said you should, didn’t you?”

“No.”

He stopped suddenly, leaving you full, but unstimulated, bent in half under him. You tried to move, but Yoongi’s grip in your hair had tightened, breathing hard against your lips.

“You’re no liar,” he had whispered.

“Move.”

“Tell the truth.”

Gentle kiss. His cock twitched inside you and you moaned, needing more.

“Tell the truth,” he had commanded.

“Yes, fuck, Yoongi, yes, now fucking give it to me.”

He began to fuck you again, hard and satisfying and everything you wanted. The best fucking dick you’ve ever had, made you cum twice before him, made you gasp his name and clutch his sheets, just like how you grabbed his shirt and gasped his name right now, leaning back against him as Yoongi’s head curved around your body, attaching his lips to your nipple as Jungkook’s tongue dipped into your drenched pussy, his moan vibrating your core as Yoongi sucked, playing with your other nipple with his hand. Standing in Jungkook’s bedroom, two mouths on you. Jungkook took one of your legs and put it on his shoulder, noisily and messily eating you out, Yoongi’s whiskey breath now all over your tits.

You could have been mad, but you were too horny to be angry, too busy humping Jungkook’s face and arching your back to get more into Yoongi’s hot mouth. One hand in Yoongi’s black hair and the other in Jungkook’s blond hair, gripping them both tight, losing yourself in the pleasure, head tipped back and tongue sliding out, impossible to catch your breath. Jungkook’s tongue lapped at your clit, closing in on it, adding more force, and you whimpered, legs shaking.

“Jungkook, a-ah, fuck…”

Skirt bunched around your waist, far too short to even blanket Jungkook’s face, giving you a clear view of his intense brown eyes, one hand on your thigh and the other wrapped around your ass, shoving your hips into his face.

Yoongi flicked your hard nipple with his tongue and pinched the other. You moaned, shivers up your spine, suddenly tipping into your orgasm and spilling it all into Jungkook’s mouth, Yoongi’s name leaving your lips, rolling your body into his face, hearing him chuckle in that deep voice of his. Jungkook slurped greedily, lapping at your pussy as Yoongi released your nipple and came up, murmuring your name, feathery kisses on your lips.

“So sexy,” he breathed. “So fuckable.”

You moaned into Yoongi’s mouth as your rode Jungkook’s face, and Jungkook got the hint, licking you all over again, your clit throbbing onto his tongue, leaking more and more into his mouth.

“Fuck, noona, you taste so fucking good when you’re horny,” Jungkook growled, his Busan satoori slipping out. “Extra sweet, like candy.”

Yoongi gave you one last kiss as Jungkook lowered your leg, standing up to cup your face and kiss you, smearing your juices on your face and licking them off, a fucking mess, your own sweet-sour taste spreading everywhere. You shuddered against his lips, one hand still in his hair, the other letting go of Yoongi’s black locks and clutching Jungkook’s turtleneck as he kissed you.

“Leave the skirt on, noona,” Jungkook mumbled. “You look so cute in it. Cute little slut.”

Body so hot, so fucking hot that it felt like your skin was on fire.

“… Fine.”

Jungkook’s hands sliding back, burying in your dark red shadow root, light kisses on your cheeks. “Just playing around, noona. I know you’re not a slut.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Jungkook chuckled and grabbed your ass, grinding his crotch into yours. “You do like playing with me, don’t you?” He was so fucking hard, even through the thick fabric of his jeans.

“Mhm.” You swallowed your moan, gripping Jungkook tighter. “Don’t know why you’re so obsessed with me though.”

“I told you,” Jungkook purred, nudging you towards his bed, getting you to climb onto it, those familiar navy sheets, so soft against your skin. They smelled just like Jungkook, fresh laundry with a hint of the sea. “Sex dreams with you are too good. I need the real thing.”

He dumped you on his bed, leaning down, kissing you once more.

“I wanna see you doing the stuff you do in my dreams.”

-

“You look cold.”

You shivered. “I’m not.”

Yoongi pulled off his black hoodie and held it out to you.

You puffed out hot air. “I don’t need it.”

His voice low and husky. “Smells like me.”

You bit you lip and took it from him, slipping it over your shoulders. Smelled so fucking good, just like Yoongi with a hint of whiskey. You snuck a glance at him in your passenger’s seat. He was leaning back in the chair, sighing softly, black hair all over his closed eyes. You saw the dark circles. His face seemed paler than usual. You started the car.

“Need to drop by the pharmacy.”

“Any chain in particular?” you replied absentmindedly.

Yoongi waved a hand. “Just need hangover meds and water.”

You tapped the water bottle in your cupholder. “There’s some left.”

You kept your eyes on the road as he reached over and drank from it. You heard it being drained. You drove steadily, thinking of the closest pharmacy. Stopped at a red light, thinking you needed to turn left at the next one.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

“Mhm.”

Silence with your steady driving, ever so slightly going over the speed limit. Not enough to get caught. Just on the edge. Gliding in the darkness, surrounded by yellow headlights and red backlights. You pulled into a parking lot, right in front of the pharmacy.

“Be a sec.”

Yoongi hauled himself out of the seat, wearing only his over-sized white t-shirt and distressed blue jeans. Was it just you or his arms a little skinner than before? The silver bracelets seemed looser on his wrists.

“Want your–?”

The car door shut.

“Hoodie,” you finished, speaking to no one. You watched Yoongi stagger to the door, pulling a black face mask out and covering his face before entering. You had a brief, fleeting moment where you thought, I should have gone with him, but you frowned. Yoongi was an adult. He didn’t need you.

He didn’t need you.

You rested your arms on your steering wheel and waited. Waited. You were good at waiting. Was it still waiting if that your default state, just breezing through life, wondering if there was any meaning in it all, wondering if anything meant anything? You made a face. Why were you having an existential crisis right now? Stupid. If nothing mattered, why bother agonizing over it?

Whatever.

The car door opened and Yoongi slid in, tugging off his face mask and holding a plastic bag.

“Here.”

You jumped as Yoongi threw a small plastic packet in your lap. Gummy bears.

“You like these, right?”

You blinked at them. “Yeah… I guess.” You did like gummy bears. Why did he get gummy bears?

“That’s good.”

That was that. Yoongi cracked open a water bottle. You waited as he scowled, dumping powder into the water and shaking it up. He squinted at the directions and then resumed shaking the water bottle, turning the water a cloudy white. He reopened the bottle and took a large swig, shuddering as he removed it from his lips. He didn’t look pleased, but he accepted it.

“What are you trying to forget?”

“Hm?”

You shrugged, tilting your head at him. “I mean, you go out drinking a lot. That’s what alcoholics do.”

Yoongi snorted. “I’m never drunk.”

“What’s with the hangover meds, then?” you pointed out.

His eyes slid to you. They seemed extra dark even in the bright streetlights.

“I don’t want a headache in the morning,” he muttered. “Or a limp dick.”

You chuckled. “I can just drop you off and go home.” You reached over and started the car. He seemed tired and stressed. You figured you could let him sleep. Wasn’t like you picked him up only because you wanted a quick fuck.

He tapped the water bottle against your forearm as you started turning out of the parking lot. You spared him a glance, raising your eyebrows.

“Wanna see your face in the morning,” he said casually, taking another sip. You could barely see his eyes with his black bangs covering them. “And hear you begging for my dick to fuck you harder.”

You rolled your eyes and drove him to his apartment.

You stayed that night.

-

“Jungkook, your dreams are freaky as fuck,” Yoongi cackled, hoisting your hips up as you whined, back arched and wrists tied by Jungkook’s belt looped a few times around them and buckled closed.

Jungkook asked you to keep the skirt on. He asked you to move your arms back and stick your chest out, breasts pushed together by your upper arms, nipples sticking straight out. He asked you to press your forearms together and not move them, hands clasped together as he jacked off in front of you.

Sure, whatever.

He also asked Yoongi to rail you from behind while he was doing it, and asked his hyung to make your tits bounce.

And Yoongi told him he was freaky as fuck as he slid into you, using one of Jungkook’s condoms, mentioning that Jungkook should buy a different brand because they were thinner and better quality.

“Okay, hyung, I’ll make sure to have them next time.”

Next time, okay, yeah, sure Jungkook, it’s not like you’re the one on Yoongi’s dick, you thought wryly as Yoongi began to move, slow but hard, your breasts bouncing at the action, gasp torn from your throat.

“Why do you even have condoms?” you muttered between pants, rocking on Yoongi’s hips as he lifted you and dropped you on his hard cock, ugh, so fucking good, felt so good as Yoongi fucked you and you watched Jungkook’s right hand wrapped around his stiff length, the red head disappearing and reappearing in his tattooed fingers, his chest rippling and his lower lip in his teeth, tiny mole dancing underneath it, eyes on your bouncing tits, moaning as he watched the obscenity in front of him.

Felt good to be watched and tied up, kneeling on Jungkook’s bed, because it was wrong, so fucking wrong, but it felt so fucking good.

“In case you want to fuck me,” Jungkook gasped. “Unless you want my babies.”

You huffed. “I do not.”

Jungkook ticked his head, smirk on his lips with his lip bite. “There you go.” He scooted closer and you ticked an eyebrow, feeling Yoongi’s fingertips dig into you as he smacked his crotch into your ass. You moaned, Yoongi’s name dropping from your lips.

“You always look so fucking hot when you’re getting fucked.”

You chuckled. “This is only the second time you’ve watched me getting fucked.”

Jungkook grinned. “Nope, I’ve seen you get fucked hundreds of times in my dreams.”

You rolled your eyes and the action was cut short as Yoongi shifted and hit your favorite spot, making you cry out and lurch forward, breath in Jungkook’s face, breasts knocking together. Your hands touched the bed, squeezing your tits, gasping for breath.

“Don’t fall over, naughty girl,” Yoongi purred. “Give Jungkookie the best view.”

You lifted your head back, balancing on your fingertips, mouth open, tongue touching your lip, vision hazy with lust. Jungkook’s blond hair covered one of his brown eyes, jaw clenched and he stroked himself faster, veins popping out on his hardness, pre-cum leaking from the tip and running down.

“Wanna cum on your face and tits, noona,” Jungkook breathed. “Wanna cover you with me.”

“Where are your manners, Jungkook?” Yoongi barked behind you, the smacking between you two radiating off the walls, squeaking the bed, and probably wholeheartedly disturbing his neighbors.

Jungkook sank his teeth in his lip, suddenly apologetic. You were about to blurt out that you didn’t give a shit, but Jungkook spoke, breathless with a hint of neediness, staring into your eyes with his brown doe-like ones, and suddenly you couldn’t say anything, repeatedly jerked forward by Yoongi’s forceful thrusts, frozen by Jungkook’s whisper.

“Please, noona… Please let me cum on your tits. On your face. Please let me see you with my cum all over you.”

Once again, you were reminded that Jungkook actually liked you.

“… O-Okay, Jungkook,” you gasped. “A-Anything you want.”

You arched your back even more, tipping your head up, breathing hard. Jungkook had to stand on the bed, his thin moans indicating he was nearing his end and you stared up at him, eyes wide, mouth open, pussy clenching around Yoongi’s cock, whimpering as you felt him fill you over and over, his long fingers bruising your hips, Yoongi’s rough, raspy drawl of you name, deepened by his Daegu satoori.

“Such a sexy woman, so eager to get a faceful of cum, aren’t you?”

You whined, lust building inside you, staring into Jungkook’s glazed-over brown eyes and his thick, dark red cock ready to burst. Yoongi’s voice could make you do anything. He really could. And you wanted him to. You wanted him to make you do anything he wanted, everything he wanted. Your voice was soaked with lust, eyes half-lidded, lips wetly parted.

“Y-Yes, Yoongi… I want Jungkook’s cum all over me…”

Jungkook’s shaking left hand touched your forehead, gently holding you in place, ash blond strands brushing against his high cheekbones as he whispered your name, heavy with his Busan satoori.

“You’re so good to me, noona.”

He moaned your name again and came with hot white strings, splattering down your cheeks and neck, some of it hitting your lips and tongue, spilling onto your bouncing breasts, coating them with his salty orgasm. You moaned back, eyes rolling back as you hit your peak, painted in Jungkook’s cum, so hot, so sticky on your skin, and you tightened around Yoongi’s cock, whimpering as you came, suddenly so wet like a waterfall, slick and viscous, reminding you of the first time that you came on this bed with Yoongi’s tongue on top of Jungkook’s sleeping body, but this time Jungkook was shoving the sensitive head in between your open lips, groaning as you licked off the dripping cum, some of it dribbling into your throat.

Yoongi hissed your name, and you whimpered as his cock twitched inside you, fully sheathing himself in your burning heat before spilling into the condom, his jerking length being roughly massaged by your tight walls. Jungkook’s cum was running down your chest, clinging to your nipples, dripping onto his sheets. Jungkook pulled out of your mouth and your tongue extended, licking at the leftover cum on the outskirts of your lips before you yelped abruptly.

“A-ah, Jungkook!”

Jungkook’s hands cupped your breasts, pushing them together and running his hot tongue over your breasts, sucking off his orgasm, lapping at your nipples, making you shudder and squirm, wiggling on Yoongi’s cock and pussy throbbing with every lick.

“Holy fuck,” Yoongi groaned, obviously witnessing Jungkook’s slurping of his cum off your tits and neck, and feeling you moan and buck on his slowly softening cock. “You’re wild, Jungkook.”

Jungkook didn’t seem to notice or care, kissing up your throat, tongue flicking against your cheeks, breath hot on your face, saturated with the salty scent of his cum. His palms on your trembling jaw, pulling you down to his lips, kissing you deeply, your moan in his mouth.

“You feel good, noona?” Jungkook whispered huskily against your lips.

“Y-Yeah…”

Your heart was rattling against your ribcage, still shattered from your orgasm and the dirtiness of Jungkook’s actions. So hard to come down, trapped on cloud nine, struggling for breath. Jungkook pressed his sweaty forehead into yours, fingers sliding back to run them through your red strands, your skin tingling at his touch. His blond hair stuck to your face, his brown eyes closing.

“Don’t worry,” he breathed softly against your quivering breath. “I’m here with you.”

-

You opened your eyes, slowly.

Groggily.

Navy sheets, so soft against your bare skin. Hand splayed over your breasts, covering them, holding you close to a hard, muscular chest. Your eyes flickered down, trying to blink the sleep away. Black tattoos on tan skin. You shifted your eyes forward. Mop of black hair, messily covering what you knew were dark, cat-like eyes. Pale chest, completely bare. Your hand was around his slim waist, fingertips on his back.

Don’t you want to be bad with me?

You retreated your hand. Those dark eyes opened, just a crack.

Watching you.

Your hand reached up, tracing his jaw. Palm up. Placed two fingers on his chin, caressing it.

His name, his name, perfectly formed by your lips, your addiction, the feeling you couldn’t give up.

“Yoongi.”

His pink lips curved into a devious smirk. His hand closed around yours, fingers intertwining.

Spark of mischief in his eyes.

“Shh. Go to sleep.”

Held your hand as you closed your eyes once again, nestled in Jungkook’s arms.

-

fourth act. lucid dreams a–dick–ted au

--

masterpost

[fabricated-misslieness]

pairing: chūya nakahara x lazy male reader

req: yes | wc: 1.87k | cw: nsfw, size difference, praise kink, biting, blood, dirty talk, belly bulging | minors dni

anon: Hi! I was hoping I could get a smut for chuuya if you could make it kinda of a part two from the other chuuya fic u have and if u can could u add a size kink and a praise kink if so thank you so much!

a/n: you thought the demon was a himbo, ha!

"You know these don't tend to last long." You send the man pushing you against the wall a wink, making sure he knows you're still top. Chūya chuckles in response.

"I'm prepared for that." Chūya gives you a smirk. You don't know it, but he doesn't mean it. He hopes it is only your sheer amount of power that attracts him to you, but he knows it's not true. He really isn't that keen on having this be a one time thing. He rather it be a long, loving relationship, keep it lasting for as long as he can; if he has to teach you commitment, he will.

You raise an eyebrow for a minute, judging his composure. "Mkay.. good. You need me to lift you, though? You're quite a way down."

Chūya huffs and rolls his eyes. With you, he's heard something along those lines about a million times. He can't control his height and he certainly can't control yours. Jeez, it's as if you were a giant. If you and him stood next to each other, he'd look like a child, not that he was that much taller than a child anyway.

"Oh shut up with that… but yes." As much as he didn't want to admit it, even though it was very clear, he couldn't kiss you from 'all the way down there'.

"Thought so." It's the shit eating grin on your face that makes him regret this. "Hold on to the horns will ya? You'll need the support."

"Doesn't bother ya?" Chūya asks, doing so anyway. They feel rather tough, like how he imagined crocodile scales to feel. Your wings, on the other hand, weren't as he'd imagined them to be. They felt like leather, despite the fact they looked like rubber. He couldn't fathom how hot they'd be in summer.

You shake your head, in turn moving his arms. "Nah. Anyway, what do you think about the fangs?" You momentarily open your mouth wider to show him. "Would you rather I don't bite you or I do?" They're not as sharp as say, a vampire or a werewolf, but they could definitely puncture.

"Maybe test them first?" You know, what he meant was that you bite his finger, or something, not his neck. It definitely stung, but it hadn't punctured. He was sure if you hadn't controlled your strength, he'd bleed. He hissed at the pain. Though it was nothing he couldn't handle, you'd taken him by surprise.

"My bad, precious." That was a new nickname. "What do you think? Did you like it? No judge if you're into it." The mention of a biting link made him think of some past lover with said kink. It sort of made him jealous.

"What if I find your sweet spot? Would that persuade you?" You bite his neck, finding the spot that made him moan. "Knew it. They're usually there." He hated the way you rubbed your past lovers in his face. In time, he'd make you forget. He was sure of that.

"Well?"

"Okay.."

"Would you look at that?" Chūya couldn't focus on anything right now, the pleasure, and pain, was too much. You would pester him for how long he took to adjust for sure. "I'm balls deep in you and I can actually see it." He hadn't registered that first part until now.

He looked down to see his stomach clearly bulging. He laughed at the sight of it. You were really a giant, in more ways than one. It was kind of.. hot though. The size difference was already turning him on, at this point it was a lot.

"Sexy." You remark, licking your lips. If it weren't for your dick, he would want that tongue in him.. again. "Can you even talk right now?"

Chūya chuckles, fixing you with a playful look before pulling you down by the horns. "Of course I can." He whispers in your ear.

"Good." You move the slightest bit, though to him it felt more than that, which urges a moan from his throat. "Although I'd like to see you try when I fuck you with no mercy."

Chūya is flustered to no end, but as the competitive guy he is, he can't just back down, even with your dick inside of him. "Is that what you say to everybody? 'Fuck you with no mercy'? How about 'fuck you 'till you're begging for hell?'"

You smirk, shaking your head to mess with his arms. His hands were surely indented with the pattern of your horns by now. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Are you ready now?" You were going to nag him about the time, just like he'd predicted. "You've been sitting on it for so long you could call it cockwarming. But maybe you're into that, haven't discussed the deets just yet."

"What can I do?" You laugh. "Your dick is big, you said so yourself."

"Then the details. What do you like?"

"P-Praise." He's a little nervous to admit it, what with the fact he acts like a tough cookie. He had to build up some courage for this moment.

You shift a bit as you think about it. All of a sudden, you start moving slowly. It's still quite a bit painful for Chūya, but your praise makes up for it. "You're doing good, baby." Your rough voice along with the way you grip his hips with your claws sends chills down his spine. "Just a bit more."

You chuckle, toying with the idea in your mind. You thrust a bit more, barely even containing yourself with how horny you are, before stopping to ask. "Like that?"

He had bitten his lips to keep his moans from coming out; he'd nearly drawn blood "Yeah, yeah, just like that." If his eyes weren't shut so tightly he'd be so much more flustered by the look you're giving him.

"Think you're ready yet?" The impatience was clear in your voice.

"Mm, yeah."

Your thrusts are slow at first, as a precaution. It was a wonder how you hadn't started going fast, though. You'd been in him for so long without moving that the impatience and anticipation were building up.

"You can go faster now." You smile, but you don't speed up, which confuses him. He was sure you wanted more, so why didn't you give him more?

"How much faster?" It's only now that he realizes it's a cheeky grin. 

Your sultry eyes seem to enchant him, making him unable to think properly; well, that and the thrusting. "I don't know."

"My terms, then." He doesn't like the sound of that. Luckily, you catch onto his uneasy look in time to reassure him, but your words don't do much. "Don't worry, you'll be just fine."

There's no warning after that. Your thrusts are quick and hard, just how you like them though only a little less than normal. After all, you'd gotten from, say, a 1 to a 7. Since when did you start calling your thrusts like a vibrator?

"You're doing good, baby!" He didn't know why, he did but he didn't know now, but he thought you'd sound more sarcastic.

His grip on your horns loosen and his arms feel weak. Just how vulnerable did you make him feel? He couldn't hold back from letting out a loud, high-pitched moan. It caused you to laugh, which he hated since he knew you were about to tease him. "High-pitched, just for me?"

He rolled his eyes at you, maybe a little bit because of pleasure, responding just as quick. "I mean you– oh! Holy shit!" He was interrupted by his own moans.

"What was that you were going to say?"

"Straying from– ah shit! Shit shit shit!" He repeated. That chuckle of yours made him realize you'd been hitting him hard on purpose to tease him. "Straying far from," He stops himself from moaning by biting his lips momentarily. "p-praise here."

You almost pout when he finishes his sentence, but you nod. "Right, sorry, precious~" You basically purr. “You’re taking my cock so well. Are you ready for more?”

“What?” You’d only just changed pace, so why would you- “Ah! Fuck me..” You hadn’t even given him time to answer, and you didn’t mean to either. This pace was the fastest, and roughest, Chūya had ever felt before, and god, did he love it. He could barely even form words, apart from curse words that were oh so familiar. The only thing that left his mouth were moans and he couldn’t even bite his lips.

“Mm, can’t talk anymore?” You weren’t really good at praise, were you? Well, it was new to you, since most of your lovers turned masochists at the sight of you. You didn’t make them, they just did. smug hoe

His arms, tired and a little sore, fall from your horns and grip your wings, which are wrapped around him. It causes you to hiss, but it’s a mere feeling in the back of your head from all the pleasure you’re getting. “Careful with those, darl.” You say with a chuckle. “You can’t break them in your state right now, but they still hurt.”

“S-Sorry.” He manages to say, continuing with moans afterward. They’re high pitched, most of them, as much as he tries to at least make them a little lower. 

“Oh? A word?” Your smirk is as much a nightmare as it is a dream. He wants to punch it off your face but also kiss it off your lips. “Right, right, praise. You take me in so well~” Chūya just barely manages a laugh.

“Ah, fuck!” Chūya shouts. He can feel himself getting closer and closer.

You smirk, moving to his neck, kissing and nipping. Your fangs sting his neck everytime you bite down, but you make sure to control yourself. Though sooner or later you’ll bite him and draw blood, it’s only inevitable.

“Go on, baby. Come loose for me, let me feel your seed on my abs.” You move to his ear, whispering and licking the lobe. 

Your words are what sends him over the edge of bliss. His seed spills all over the both of you, which is a turn on for sure; it moves with his constantly bulging belly. 

You close your eyes when you feel yourself coming closer. Instinctively, you move to his neck, giving him a harsh bite, which makes Chūya groan. You couldn’t control yourself from not biting him, even when his neck is already littered with other marks. Blood drips from the wound, two small holes.

It’s only when you go over the edge that you apologize. You move off of him, pulling him on top of you instead. He snuggles into your body, hissing in pain. “Sorry.” You move your wings to wipe the blood away.

“It’s fine… well, not really, but eh.”

You chuckle, keeping one wing on the wound and the other over the top of you. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

The promise of another time is reassuring, whether it be sexual or not, though he rather it be a date. He likes to know he has a little bit of a chance.

[expectingtofly]

Claire Novak's (Surprisingly) Not-So-Lame Day

2k

this fic is written for @dean-has-great-taste as part of @starrynightdeancas' gift exchange. thanks sophie for organizing this, it was a lot of fun <33 and i hope you enjoy this, gen!!

*****

How did Claire find herself joining Dean, Cas, and Jack for an excursion to the mall?

Well.

Cas had texted her yesterday, with an extreme amount of emojis and emoticons that took some time to decipher, asking if she wanted to go shopping with him, Dean, and Jack. Apparently Jack needed new clothes and they needed a gift for Eileen’s birthday coming up, and maybe they could go bowling or something afterwards.

And normally she would’ve said no way because hanging out with old guys was lame and she didn’t like little kids, but she needed an excuse to get out of Jody and Donna’s weekend plans of cleaning out the garage. Plus, Kaia needed to study for a test—she actually enjoyed school, the weirdo—and had requested no distractions.

So that’s how she found herself sitting in the back of the Impala next to a carseat, listening to one of Dean’s old cassette tapes (which wasn’t too bad, but she’d never admit it).

“What’s that?” Jack asked, stretching against his carseat straps to jab at one of the pins Claire wore on her leather jacket.

“It’s the lesbian flag,” she told him. Cas looked back at them from the front seat, smiling.

“This one?” Jack pointed to the rainbow pin on her pocket.

“It’s the pride flag.”

Jack considered that for a moment before announcing, “I want one. And this one.” He pointed to the mothman pin on her lapel, then the big-eyed, green alien. “And this one... and this one, and this one.” (Alex said she had more pins than leather on her jacket, but sue her, she liked making her clothing her own).

Jack, it seemed, also liked… unique clothing. The kid was wearing rain boots even though the sun was out and overalls with embroidered flowers. He dressed weird, there was no way around it. But so did Cas, so there was probably no hope for him, poor kid.

“Okay,” she decided. “I know where to get you some.”

Jack beamed and swung his legs. “Don’t kick the seat,” Dean told him, and Jack pouted at him.

Claire was surprised Dean even let a carseat in his precious Impala. Pulling out her phone, she asked, “Can we listen to my music?”

Dean started to respond with a “Hell no,” but Cas spoke up first, “Of course.”

Dean spluttered as Claire connected to the bluetooth connector Sam had finally convinced Dean to install. The old man didn’t realize it was the 21st century, apparently.

“I wanna listen to Gaga!” Jack said, leaning over to look at her phone.

At first she thought that was some baby talk, then she realized Jack was into pop music. Ugh. But it would annoy Dean, so...

Leaning in conspiratorially with Jack, she let him scroll through her phone and choose which song to play. When “Born This Way” started filtering through the car, Dean groaned.

“Really?” he asked, sending her a glare in the rearview mirror. Mission accomplished.

Jack clapped along and Cas turned the music up louder. “Great choice, Jack,” he said.

Dean, for all his grumbling, didn’t turn down the music, and Claire caught him glancing at Cas, who tapped his fingers on his thigh to the beat. Dean looked like he was fighting back a smile and Claire rolled her eyes. Dude was so whipped.

When they parked at the mall, Cas grabbed Jack’s hand before he could sprint across the parking lot. “You have to look both ways,” he reminded him gently, and Jack nodded.

“Claire’s gonna buy me pins,” he said, jumping onto the curb.

“Yup.” Claire pat her jacket pocket. “Good ol’ credit card fraud.”

“Woah, now,” Dean started to protest.

“You and Sam are the ones who taught me!” Claire reminded him.

“We’ll pay for them,” Cas said, opening the door to the mall. Jack skipped inside, his rain boots squeaking on the tiled floor.

“We’re doing what now?” Dean asked Cas, taking his hand. Gross.

“Come on, Jack,” Claire said, catching up to the toddler. “Let’s go get you some style.” Over her shoulder, she called, “Meet up with you guys later.”

“Have fun!” Cas called.

“Don’t get kidnapped,” Dean added.

As they distanced themselves from the old geezers, Jack grabbed her hand, and Claire startled a little. “Do you like dinosaurs?” he asked.

Someone passing by gave them a smile, and Claire realized people probably thought Jack was her younger brother. She let him hold her hand anyway. “Sure.”

“What’s your favorite? Mine is the bon-ta-sore-us.” He sounded out the word carefully.

“Don’t know. What’s the one with the spiky horns?”

“Ti-ce-a-tops?”

“Yeah, that sounds cool.”

“That’s my second favorite!” He started jumping from one colored tile to the next. “And the T-Rex. That’s Dee’s favorite. And Dad likes the steg-a-sore-us.” He peered up at her. “Did you know he got to see dinosaurs? Right in front of him!”

“You know what that means, right?” He shook his head. “He’s super old. He’s basically a dinosaur himself.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “He’s a dinosaur,” he repeated in a hushed whisper.

“Yup.” Spotting Hot Topical, she headed that way. “You should tell him that.”

Inside the store, Jack let go of her hand to grab a stuffed cat. “Claire! Like yours!”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Yeah.” So, she still had the Grumpy Cat Cas had bought her. She wasn’t cruel enough to throw it away when the guy was trying so hard to make up for walking around in her dead dad’s body. Plus, the stuffed animal was kinda cute. Not that she was going to tell anyone that.

“Here ya go,” she told Jack, finding a box of pins at the register. She brought the box down to his level and Jack ran over to look inside.

“I want a Doc McStuffins pin,” he said, plunging his hand into the box.

“I don’t know if they have those.”

As they rooted through the box of pins, she heard familiar voices and looked up to see Dean and Cas walking inside.

“What are you guys doing here?” she asked.

“I like this store,” Cas said and Dean rolled his eyes. Among the pleather and black, Cas’ dingy old trench coat—over a Winnie the Pooh sweatshirt instead of a suit—and Dean’s ratty flannel and boots only looked more ridiculous. She took it back—even Jack dressed better than them.

“You guys don’t have to be in here,” she told them.

“What, we’re too old?” Dean asked defensively.

“Yeah, actually.”

Cas poked at a toy and it squeaked. God, could they be any more embarrassing?

“Dad!” Jack called, holding out a rainbow pin. “Look, they have soo many.” Cas joined Jack in going through the pins and Claire asked Dean, giving his outfit a meaningful look,

“Was the Army Surplus store too trendy for you?”

“Did they kick you out of Sephora for buying up all the eyeliner?“ Dean shot back.

Touché. In a truce, she held out a pin with the bisexual flag. She wasn’t really sure what Dean identified as, if he even gave it any thought, but guessed it was close enough. “For you.”

Dean rolled his eyes but took it. “I’m not weighing down my jacket with this crap, though.”

“No, ‘course not, that would mean having any sort of style.”

“Can I help you with anything?” asked an employee with two nose rings and jewelry up and down their ears— so cool. Claire saw the way their eyes flicked between them, probably thinking they made a weird group, and she took a step back, trying to silently communicate that yes, she was shopping with them, but no, she was not as lame as them.

“Just looking,” Dean told them.

“I like your drawings,” Jack said and the employee looked down at their arms which were littered with tattoos.

“Thanks.”

“My dad has a drawing. It’s Enochian.”

The employee—Wren, by the name tag—looked at Cas with new respect in their eyes. “Language of the angels. Sick.”

Cas looked pleased. “Thank you. It’s come in handy more than once.”

The employee went back to looking confused and, starting to walk away, told them to call if they needed anything.

“Do you want anything?” Cas asked Claire, and Claire looked through the box. She grabbed a pentagram pin and, seeming to copy her, Jack grabbed another one, clutching several pins already in his fists.

“You like bees, right?” Claire asked Cas, spotting a “Save the Bees” pin. She held it up for him.

Cas’ eyes brightened. “That’s a wonderful message.” He glanced back at Dean and frowned. “Dean, they’re not going to bite.”

Claire looked over to see Dean shying away from a few emo teens. “Look like it,” Dean muttered, joining them. Jack lifted up his hands, asking to be hoisted up. Dean set him on his hip and Jack showed him the pins he’d selected. He held a dinosaur pin to Dean’s collar.

“Do you want one, Dee?”

“He’s too lame,” Claire piped up. Not for the first time, she noticed the healed over piercing mark on Dean’s right ear and pointed to it. “Looks like he used to be cool, though.”

“Yeah, guess so,” Dean said dryly. His hand went to his earlobe. “Pierced it myself, in high school.”

“I think you’re still cool,” Cas told him, and Claire fake-gagged, making Jack giggle.

Cas took the pins to the cash register where Wren rang them up. Dean added the bisexual flag pin and Claire threw in a pair of spiky earrings, because, hey, they were paying.

“15.36,” Wren told them, dropping the pins into a bag.

“My dad’s a dinosaur,” Jack told them, trying to see over the edge of the counter. Wren raised an eyebrow, Cas looked surprised, and Claire stifled a laugh.

“Claire, help me,” Jack said, grabbing the bag from Cas as they exited the store. Moving to the side, Claire helped him attach the pins to his overalls. A smiley face, a pride flag, a grinning Stitch, a sunflower, a dinosaur, and the pentagram. The pins clacked as Jack tugged at his overalls, trying to look at them all. Overall, a chaotic look, but it kinda matched his vibe.

“Lookin’ good,” she told him, and Jack beamed.

“I’m like you!”

Alright, she wouldn’t take it that far, but, “Yeah, close enough.”

Cas attached the “Save the Bees” pins to his trench coat pocket and it ended up crooked. Rolling her eyes, Claire said, “Let me.”

She reattached the pin and stepping back to look it over, decided, “You could actually make that coat look cool if you added more stuff to it.”

Cas looked down at himself. “Thank you.”

“Nothing’s gonna save that sweatshirt, though.” Couldn’t let his ego get too big.

“Dean said he liked it,” Cas said, glancing back at Dean, who was shooting an evil eye at Claire. He quickly wiped it off his face and draped an arm over Cas’ shoulders.

“Yeah, it’s uh… Charming.” He guided Cas away from Claire. “Don’t listen to her, she still thinks sarcasm is a personality trait.”

“Screw you, old man,” she called. Jack skipped after them and she checked her phone to see Kaia had texted her: How’s everything going? They drive you crazy yet?

They’re so weird, she texted back. Then she added, They’re not too bad.

“Come on, Jack,” she said, hurrying to catch up with him, Dean, and Cas. “Let’s go get our ears pierced.”

“Yay!” Jack cheered. He grabbed her hand and tugged her down the mall.

“Woah, woah, you’re not doing that,” Dean protested like the wet blanket he was.

“You can get yours pierced too,” Claire told him, and he faltered,

“I don’t want, we’re not—“

“You know you want to.” She let Jack lead her away and Dean called after them,

“We're never bringing you shopping again!”

Grinning, she turned to shout over her shoulder, “You know you love me!”

[literaila]

If you’re still doing requests, what about a loki x reader where he plans a date around asgard? Pure fluff as he tries to impress reader

a perfect sort of different 

loki x gn!reader 

a/n: went with more of a “loki moments” type thing but. it was very fun to daydream..sooo.

*

the pure rush of colors was magnificent.

it felt like so many things, so many bright lights flying past you at once, so many seconds condensed into not even one, and so many smiles lived through the blur of everything.

you’d been worried about the Bifrost— loki spoke of it with a brilliant smile on his face, mischievous glint in his eyes. but now, seeing it for yourself, you understood that look.

and you felt a little dizzy.

loki is holding onto your arm when you regain composure and look around, you’re barely aware that he’s the only thing holding you up.

it’s different here, strange. your eyes are squinted, tired from all the colors but you still manage to look around.

strange.

“—darling?”

your head tilts to look at loki, whos staring at you with all the confusion of a mighty god. he must not even realize how disorienting the bifrost could be.

“yes?” you whisper, surprised by how your voice sounds. it’s different, strange, but feels smooth. you smile as you breathe out, enjoying this sensation.

loki looks amused when you meet his eyes again, and finally, he lets go of your arm, turning around.

your eyes drift past him, to the walls, the floor, the weird thing in the middle of the room, and finally, someone else.

you hadn’t even noticed the person standing there, proper-like, sword in hand. he’s staring at you, eyes a strong, strange type of gold. he doesn’t look unkind, but still, your smile is hesitant.

you wish there was a directory for this sort of thing.

“thank you, heimdall,” loki quips, not bothering to look over to the man, and walking past without a breath.

his strange tone of voice doesn’t escape your ears. you stare after him, his long immortal strides, noting the tension in his back.

“shall i let your father know that you’re here with— ahem —your guest?” the man, heimdall, calls after him even though he’s not that far away yet.

he’s not looking at you anymore, so he can’t see your confused face. you sense some tension.

loki spins around with a smile, too big to be real.

“better not,”

and then he’s walking again, leaving you behind, standing there looking all too small. accidentally— you hope.

you turn to the man with his beautiful gold eyes. he’s already looking at you, waiting for whatever he knows you’re about to say. your eyes dart to loki for a moment, meters ahead of you already, and you look at heimdall again with an apologetic face.

“thank you,” you say quickly with your strange chilled voice, and then, before he can respond, you’re running after loki.

he walks far faster than you do— curse his long legs — and it takes a moment to catch up. luckily, he stops when he notices you approaching.

his face is void of anything.

“bad blood?”

loki, stood in front of you, gives an unamused look at your words, then looks forward to the-

oh, wow.

if you’d thought the bifrost and the man were strange— this would be miles away. the sight in front of you has your jaw-dropping, your breath wavering off as you stare.

it’s bright, so bright, and gold gold gold. it looks like a place from a story, a fictional thing that people on earth could never dream of seeing. it’s so-

wow.

it would be embarrassing to burst into tears right here, wouldnt it?

loki seems to be thinking the same thing because he leans down to grab your hand, distracting you from your thoughts of sobbing.

“do you like it?” he wonders, nodding toward the castle, the gold, the colors. it’s all very overwhelming. beautiful.

“it’s very…” you cant stop staring, cant think long enough to finish.

your eyes are glued in front of you.

“very what?”

and to him.

his blue eyes are awaiting your response, and his hand soft and cold in yours.

“just very,” you whisper.

he rolls his eyes, breaking your lovestruck thoughts. bastard.

“that doesn’t make any sense, dear,” he chides, taking a few steps forward and pulling you with him. he ignores the scoff that follows his response.

you observe the sky, clearer than you’ve seen before, the mountains which you hadn’t expected, the buildings and the still-movement all of them are making.

it’s only takes a few more seconds for you to finally look down—

—and jump away from loki.

he’s looking over at you with curious eyes, wondering where you’ve gone, but you’re staring at the ground.

eyes wide, face shocked, wondering how in the nine realms you didn’t notice this earlier.

it’s a rainbow, yes, so how are you walking on it?

“am i going to die?” you blurt out, moving backward, not really looking where you’re going. all you know is that you need to get off this rainbow.

you cant believe loki wouldn’t have warned you before, cant believe that you’re still alive even now.

“darling-“ loki is calling, you don’t listen. “darling, darling—“ his voice gets louder, nearing you. “hey-“

he’s grabs your arm, pulling you to him, his breath against your face. his grip is stronger, but his voice is stronger “you’re only going to die if you fall off,”

it’s then you notice how close you were to the edge of the bridge.

oops.

you look up to loki, now rational enough to be still, and wince at his scowl. embarrassing mortal, you are.

“sorry,” you say and take a step back. the ground is firm beneath your feet. you probably should’ve noticed that before.

another eye roll.

okay, so maybe you definitely should’ve noticed that before. and— yup, loki is still glaring at you.

“i’m okay now,” you promise, smiling and taking a step closer to him. loki doesn’t relent, turning his head away.

you kiss his jaw anyway, loving the quirk of his lip you can just barely see out of the corner of your eye. he’s not a very sly god.

you peck up, until you can just barely meet the corner of his lips, and then he’s turning his head, meeting you halfway.

forgiven, then.

“you are absurd,” he says, his eyes so very kind, the antonym to his words. he runs two finger tips under your jaw and then looks away.

“sorry,” you repeat.

loki just laughs, moves the two of you closer to the middle of the ‘bridge’, giving you a pointed look. he’s never going to let that go.

then the two of you are walking, towards the castle, towards the gold, towards the beautiful place in front of you. you’re not sure how loki is so calm, how he can keep his eyes off of any of this for even a moment.

when you’ve almost reached the end, loki starts telling you about the bridge, about its prosperities, it’s history. he whispers things about the skyline in your ear and guides you toward the beautiful place.

it’s all very wonderful. peaceful, somehow, something you’d never thought you’d get to experience. especially not with him.

you’re almost there though, the buildings, the people, when you feel a cold blur cover you.

your clothes are gone, in their place, a blob of leather and cloth.

“loki,”

he doesn’t stop, moving ahead with your hand still in his. you notice his clothes, once a shirt and some jeans, now transformed into leather and more leather.

and… horns? gold horns?

appealing, yes. ridiculous, yes.

“your highness, almighty god, care to explain?”you call, after removing your hand from his, and crossing your arms. he’s not supposed to magic you without warning.

he doesn’t even attempt to look innocent, instead fiddling with the clothing at your waist— admiring it almost.

you huff.

“darling, you can’t except us to wear… that here, honestly. you’d be executed at the gate,” he waved a hand, completely ignoring your face.

dumb, cute, bastard god.

he tries to pull you again but you snap back. “nuh-uh, junior, you don’t make any sense,”

“i don’t make sense?” his amused eyebrow is not helping.

“explain,” you say, instead of elbowing him.

he sighs, throws his head back, rolls his eyes and looks up. all within two seconds. you might’ve appreciated it if he wasn’t being so convoluted.

he sighs again. “we’re trying not to draw any unwanted attention, darling, hence the clothes,”

you stare at him for a few moments, his impatient, ridiculous face.

and then “you’re literally wearing horns,”

“they’re comfortable,” he says, as if that’s any explanation at all.

“they’re horns,”

“custom fit” he says with a stupid prideful face. again, any other time it might’ve been endearing.

you look behind him, to the palace you cant wait to see, to the noises you can hear.

“…aren’t you like a prince here?”

“well, technically, darling-“

but you don’t let him finish, instead you take one step past him and interrupt. “also, you like— bask in attention all of the time. you practically live for it,” you continue to walk, expecting him to follow.

“i do not ba-“

“don’t try and deny it, loki, lying doesn’t look good on you.”

“i’m the god of lies,” loki huffs, and doesn’t utter another word. you’re sure he’s crossing his arms and pouting.

after a few moments of silence, you’re beginning to worry that you’ve actually hurt his feelings, but then he sighs again.

“shall i take them off?”

you roll your eyes at that, watching his hand go up to his head, stopping him with the gentle tap of yours

“no, love, then people won’t notice them,”

you walk forward, laughing to yourself when loki doesn’t follow. a part of you wants to look back to see the look on his face, but the other part doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

it doesn’t matter though because loki only pauses for a moment, and then he’s running to catch up to you and looking down upon you with a smirk.

“does that mean you like them, then?”

*

loki’s room is… unexpected.

you’d guessed about the rows of books, the dark colors, the large expanse of space. it wasn’t that hard to guess after you knew about his decorating skills.

but this… something about this is warm.

maybe it’s the large glass windows you hadn’t thought of, maybe it’s the light they bring in. maybe it’s the view of the bifrost, maybe it’s just some magic asgardian thing,

but still, you loved it from the moment you’d walked in.

it was him, you supposed, there wasnt much that could keep you from loving it. 

still, loki’s tour of the room (big, yet smaller than you’d thought it would be) was your favorite part. 

“this was my favorite dagger, before my mother gave me the one at home,” and “yes that is a trophy— no, darling, we dont need to talk about it-” and “you think thats funny but i spent most nights away from bed,” (you’d hit him for that one (( “sneaking!” he’d promised))  

it was wonderful to hear about his childhood, no matter the grey-tinted glasses he looked at it through. 

and now, standing at his library while he sits in the chair next to you, you cant stop smiling at the books you cant read. 

“whats this one?” 

“that one is illusion-casting,” he answers, and he has a book in his hand— another title you cant read —but the two of you both know that he hasnt looked away from you once. 

“i should burn it,” you mutter, familiar with the name and the magic. 

loki smirks, you refuse to look and see but he is, and sings out a quiet “ ‘fraid you’re a bit too late,” 

“this one?” you demand, voice louder now. you ignore the snake slithering over your finger tips. he won’t win that fast.  

“that one is a work of fiction,” he says, standing up to grab it from you. the snakes disappear in an instant. he flips it from the front to the back, studying it carefully. you’re sure you see him gulp before he says “its about frost giants.” 

you’re familiar with that name too. and you know, you would’ve been able to see it even if you didnt, that its a bad reminder for loki. something about it is causing that dullness in his eyes. 

“it is?” you whisper, moving closer to him to observe. you still cant read it, but something about the feel of his skin is comforting. 

“its asgardian, obviously,” he looks up, closed off face. “not very pleasant,” he whispers to you. 

his words send pricks down your heart. 

you’d known this would happen when he’d invited you, stuttered out his invitation with his silk voice. you had guessed that too— that asgard held bad memories for him. that there was a reason, before maybe, he hadn’t wanted to come back. 

until now, of course. he was excited to show you around. 

still, there must be something to get that look off of his face. 

you grab the book from his hands, placing it back on the shelf as carefully as possible. you move back, smile— slightly sad —on your face. loki is watching, but you’re not sure if hes really there. 

so, you move closer, grab his hands before stepping into his chest. 

you’re looking into his eyes when you ask “should i burn that one too?” 

and he doesn’t move. he doesn’t breathe in or out. he just stands for a moment.

but you can see it— the twitch of his nose, the subtle change in his eyes. you can see the life return to his brows, the colors flooding his cheek.

you don’t mention the blue, the tint, the composure he’d lost. you won’t speak of it until he does.

and then, within another moment, with one sharp inhale of breath, loki’s smiling.

and it’s wonderful, it’s amazing, and you’re quick to return it. you hope it’s your words, hope that loki can already hear the unspoken ‘i accept you’ you’re sending to him.

you hope just this once that he’s reading your mind, that he knows how highly you think of him.

it takes one more second for loki to grab at your waist, to stare at your lips until he cant take it anymore and he— gently —claws at your face.

his lips are yours and his hands are running across your skin, across the clothes he’s made for you, all over until you’re breathing once again.

you want to pull back and look at the color of his eyes, but you don’t want to move. you cant move away from him now.

with gasps of breath, warming hands, loving eyes you can see when loki finally does pull back, the two of you are smiling.

at least, right now, you’re enough to shove away the memories.

“yes, darling,” he whispers with his lips centimeters from yours. “you should burn them all,”

you laugh and loki groans into the next kiss. he’s fast and slow and hard and soft and pulling away…

“we should burn them all,” he corrects, eyes attached to yours.

you scoff though, instead of returning his lovely look, and move away. “i quite like the look of some of these,”

“you cant even read them,” loki complains, reminds you with a smirk.

you glare at him, pulling out another book. he’s right next to you, leaning against the shelf and watching you with observant eyes.

“doesn’t mean i’m going to burn them all just to feed your pyromaniac tendencies,”

loki laughs, maybe at you, maybe at your words.

but still, when you look over to him again, you can’t help but laugh back.

*

“…if i married you, would we share the title of ‘the god of mischief’?”

it was a serious question.

loki’s reaction was not helpful in the slightest.

he’s sitting next to you, laughing— cackling at your words.

the two of you have been leaning against the bookshelf for a while now, not noticing the time that’s passed while you discuss, talk and read.

well, loki reads, you listen.

you been enjoying the stories he tells you, both his and others, enjoying the way his mouth moves when he reads, the way his eyes flick up to yours every couple of moments. the smile that lights up his face after those few seconds of eye contact.

you enjoyed his bursts of energy, the moments when he’s reminded of something and so he pauses the story and tells you something else instead.

you’ve enjoyed all of these hours on the floor.

and no, you’re not exactly sure how the subject has come up, but still.

the scowl on your face is not playful.

“that’s not really how it works, darling,” loki says in between the laughs he still can’t seem to keep in.

he’s got a hold of your hand, and so, with the maturity of the adult you are, you snatch it back.

it’s only then that he looks up with betrayal in his eyes. his lips quirk at the look on your face moments after.

bastard.

“fine,” you say with practiced ease. “i didn’t want to marry you anyway,”

without another look at his face, you stand up, sore from sitting on the floor for so long and stretch.

loki is quick to follow, turning your head to make you look him in the eyes.

“pardon, darling?”

your smile is malicious. “you didn’t hear me?”

loki quirks an eyebrow at you and moves your head down only slightly. he moves his hand against your forehead.

“are you sick, my dear?” he asks with all the fake curiosity he can muster.

hey wait— where did he even learn that?

he laughs again when you force his hand away.

“you’re infuriating,” you say, glaring at him.

loki smiles, charming once again, and leans down. “i am the god of mischief-“

“heard that one before-“

“-and i will share that title with you, if you’d like.”

and then, he’s across the room before you even get the chance to make another comment.

god— he’s so beautiful when he’s laughing at you.

*

“what do you think?” he asks, playing with your wrist in his delicate hands, moving your hand to his liking.

it’s been a long day, you think.

“about what?” you whisper back, teasing that smooth sensation on your tongue, feeling the weight of your eyelids.

his bed is wonderful. soft, silky. and even if the scent is slightly different— you can still tell it’s him.

“me,” loki murmurs. “here, this place, my home.”

he’s giving you options, you know, and still. there’s only one real answer.

it’s all been very disorienting. from the very moment, you stepped foot here, from the moment loki asked you to come. it’s been fast, and slow, and a blur of everything.

every moment has been scattered with confusion, and while happiness, excitement, and curiosity lay beneath that— it’s still the biggest thing.

it’s so different here, so strange, so sweet. loki is different here too— someone you don’t know, but recognize so well.

there’s so much to mention and just not enough words.

so, you don’t know what to say when he asks.

loki seems to notice, he’s looking in your eyes which are cast off to the side, and he can see the hesitation.

“if it’s bad, i’m sure we can find a memory loss spell,” he says.

you laugh and he delights in the sound. he keeps going.

“or we can go back down to midgard, and you can tell everyone i kidnapped you, and then you’ll never have to see me again.”

“technically, you did,” you say, looking at him, watching his facial expressions.

he laughs. “i did,”

theres a moment after hes done speaking, pure silence.

loki gives you a minute to think, traces the skin under your eyes while he waits. hes been paitent-- uncharacteristic -- and you still dont know what to say. 

“i feel like i’m dreaming,” you blurt out, carefully watching for his reaction. 

he doesnt answer, doesnt meet your eyes, only hums. 

hes waiting for more you know. 

you sigh. “i’ve been worried that i havent woken up all day- that you’re upset because i stood you up, and missed out on all of this.” 

loki looks then, looks at you, looks closer. 

“this is all so surreal, loki, so different.” 

he smiles, and you’re not sure if its good or not. you’re both tired, you can tell, you’re both exhausted, you’re both drained from all the laughing, and you’re both so happy. 

or, you hope he is. you know you are. how could you not be? 

maybe you should tell him that, too. 

“a bad sort of different?” loki asks before you can speak again. hes moving up, lifting his head from your stomach and moving to meet you, to hold you. 

you’re smiling once again, a tired sort of smile. 

“nothing different about you is bad,” you tell him, you whisper into his mouth when you move up to kiss him. you wrap your hands in his hair, pull him as close as possible. 

its such a lazy kiss, but you cant help but think that its your favorite one of the day. you feel loki’s hand on your neck, feel him pull you in too. 

you match each other, in breath, in movements, in whispers between kisses, in softness and warmth. 

when you move back, when you look at him again, when your eyelids are falling but hes holding you up-- 

when you move back, you cant stop yourself from speaking again. “you dont think my different is bad, do you?” 

its sort of a rhetorical question, but maybe its not. loki is going to answer, either way, you know. 

“your different is perfect,” he confirms and pulls you in deeper once again. hes pulling you under the water, holding you up in the sky, making you feel so different here, so different in his bed, in his home, in his arms. 

a perfect sort of different, you know. now, and then and forever, maybe. 

“are you still dreaming?” loki asks when he pulls back. he says it like hes trying to prove to you that you arent. like hes trying to prove to you that this is real, that he is real. 

“maybe,” you answer back, close-lipped smile on your face. “but, you know.” 

loki stares, his head lifts up as he waits. 

...and then you dont say anything. you’re just breathing, matching his stare. 

“i don’t” he protests, a demand in its own way. softly, he kisses between your brows. 

you smile, softer at his touch. 

“i dont mind dreaming, as long as you’re here,” 

maybe its not the answer he was expecting, or maybe its shocking, because the look he gives you is not what you were expecting. 

you laugh and lay back against the pillows, knowing that he’ll follow, knowing that you’re both going to fall asleep like this and it’ll be perfectly okay. 

you’re supposed to stay here for a while anyway, today was just a start. 

loki, kisses you again, once more for now, desperate and hard and unlike the kisses from before. 

its a blur of colors before he lets you go again, a blur of hope and excitement and wonder and every emotion he lends you. 

you’re so tired, you know. 

he whispers something in your ear, says your name again, calls you ‘darling’ for the last time that day. 

it's a different kind of sleep. strange, shallow. in his arms, surrounded by these sheets that you’ve never felt before. surrounded by this place that you’ve never been. cuddled in the arms of someone you’ve always known. 

perfect. 

*

my masterlist here. 

[leafs-lover]

If He's Lucky I'll Let Him Join

Part 6: Things shift

Series Masterlist

A/N: Sorry for the delay on this, hope you like it. I only plan on 2 maybe 3 more parts of this.

Warnings: Swearing, smut (oral female receiving) unprotected sex (wrap it kids), voyeurism, 18+

Word Count: 6600

April 8, 2021

A: Hey want to go for a walk with Felix and I?

You stare at your screen for a few minutes, the message sitting on read. Since giving Auston your number a week and a half ago he has text you three times. Two were pictures of Felix, and the third was a meme.

The Leafs had a few days off during that stretch, you saw Fred a little but you haven’t seen Auston since you left his house. You also haven’t told Fred about Auston, and since he hasn’t brought it up you don’t think Auston told him.

It’s not that you did anything wrong or cheated on Fred; you aren’t in a relationship, with either man. You haven’t talked about what you are, or where this is heading, if anywhere. The season is almost half over and you have no idea what will happen after that. Last time the season ended you barely heard from Fred for three months, and Auston almost 4.

When you agreed to sleep with Auston, you never specified it would only be with Fred, only in threesome situations. You never discussed the dynamics of you and Auston, and what the boundaries were. You know all of this.

Yet something feels wrong. Like you shouldn’t have done that behind Fred’s back and you shouldn’t keep doing it without with Fred knowing. That you should talk to Fred before you and Auston sleep together again, assuming you do sleep with him again. You don’t even know if you want to sleep with him when it’s just Auston. Not that you had a bad time, it was far from it. You just don’t know what it means, if anything.

There is so much you are uncertain of, all you know is how you felt about Fred last year. Things were going great, and you talked about summer plans. They were loose plans like being his plus 1 to a teammates wedding, going up to the Muskoka’s for a weekend with Mitch and Steph. He even mentioned a five day trip to Iceland, though that seemed unlikely to happen given the amount of planning required. But everything was heading towards a relationship until the world stopped.

And now a year later, the world is spinning. People are getting vaccinated everywhere except Canada; but they say they are coming, and the countries with vaccinated people are easing restrictions. Everything seems to be heading for a new normal, but where does that leave you and Fred?

Some nights you feel like a set of holes for him to use like target practice. But other times you wake up to Fred gently brushing your hair, legs tangled beneath the sheets placing soft kisses on your forehead or shoulder and you feel like so much more.

Intimate dinners.

Sex.

Cute text messages.

Sex.

Lazy Sundays.

Sex.

Bubble baths together.

Sex.

So much back and forth, it’s very confusing. And that’s just with Fred, you can’t even begin to understand the dynamic of Auston.

He has been a roller coaster, and not just the way he throws you around in bed. The first time he was dominant, but ended it with a soft kiss. The kiss lingered on your lips for days, your mind was swirling from it. Sometimes his eyes are dark and full of fire, but other times you get glimpses of him and that kiss.

Sure you had some feelings for Auston last year, but you told yourself they were feelings of lust. Completely, 100% sexually driven. But they were just feelings of sex right? Just the heat developing in your core from being around him fogging the sense and reason of your brain.

Auston finds moments to wrap his arms around you, placing soft kisses on your forehead or your lips. Doesn’t matter if Fred is in the other room or 5 feet away he will do it. While he drives his hard dick into your walls, he’ll have eyes dark with hunger. But after they are soft, and he doesn’t hesitate to lay soft and passionate kisses on your lips while Fred is lying inches beside you.

He exudes so much dominance, both men do. You are actually surprised it doesn’t turn into a pissing match with them, but they direct it all to you. They let you think you are in control, but the first chance they get they take over. Spilling words of venom, pulling orgasm after orgasm, juices coating their cocks and fingers.

The sight alone is enough to send you home with an ache between your legs. They are patient while you are with the other one, knowing their turn is coming. Not too patient though. But through all of it they don’t fight or get jealous of you.

Until last week ago that is, running into Auston in the elevator.

When he was hovering over you, kissing along the marks Fred had left earlier in the day, you got the feeling he was jealous you had spent time with him. You don’t know if it’s because he wasn’t there or that he didn’t like that you were sleeping with someone other than him, but he seemed bothered by it. But he would be naïve to think you and Fred only sleep together with him right?

An hour before that he was mumbling in your ear while cuddling on his couch. He looked at you like he wanted to hold you tight to his chest and never let you leave. Maybe it’s just a part of who he is, how he plays girls. You know he has a reputation around Toronto, besides his performance on the ice. There are rumours that over his first four seasons he has a revolving door of women while on road trips.

Obviously this year with Covid he has been much more mellow, no rumours or stories. But you don’t know if there is any truth to the rumours, you don’t know if he’s sleeping with other women. Not on road trips, the league has strict protocols in place for road teams. But at home they are supposed to follow local health guidelines. He could easily have another girl, and you are just someone he uses when called upon.

Maybe you are just a piece for him to bide his time with until restrictions are loosened, just an easy solution with the leagues COVID protocol’s. Or maybe he sees you as something more. Either way it’s all very convoluted.

Fingers hovering over your screen you mull over everything. Just before you go to type three little dots pop up as if he can sense your hesitation. You decide to wait before replying and are met with a selfie of him and Felix cuddling in bed, tattooed arm fully on display due to his lack of shirt. A “please play with me Y/N” text obviously supposed to be from Felix coming in immediately afterwards.

You can’t help the way your legs snap shut, rubbing together in search of friction. Or the involuntary groan that tumbles out as you stare at over his arm and down to his abs. But it’s the big beady eyes of Felix that win you over and without a second thought you quickly reply with a yes.

**

“Miss, I think you dropped your keys,” you hear someone call out. Ignoring it you pan around the somewhat busy street. Car horns are sirens are heard on the streets, wind howling between the buildings making the air crisp against your face. A hand gently touches your arm and you quickly spin around on your heels, wide eyed. “Sorry,” he chuckles seeing the shock on your face “I called out but I don’t think you heard me. Are these yours?”

He holds up a keychain in your view and you sigh slightly, “yes, thank you.”

When getting ready you decided to leave your purse at home, they aren’t the most convenient while walking a dog. You threw your debit card, TTC pass, phone and keys into your pocket. Arriving out front the coffee shop a couple minutes ago your hands were cold so you reached into your pocket for your gloves.

“No problem,” he smiles.

Scanning over his face you immediately notice his bright blue eyes grazing over your face. Thick flowing dark brown hair sticks out under his Montreal Canadians ball cap, a short scruffy beard on his chiseled jaw. He looks familiar but you can’t place it.

He is tall, similar in height to Auston and Fred. Even through his black peacoat you can tell his shoulders are just as wide. A red scarf gently popping out under the collar of his jacket. “I’m Josh,” he says, and you see him smile once again, instantly you think that it is just the best smile you have ever seen.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you smile back.

“Can I buy your coffee? “he asks glancing to the shop behind you. “I assume that’s why you’re here,” he chuckles. “It’s not free though, it’ll cost you a half hour of your time through the park.”

You chuckle slightly, if you weren’t supposed to meet Auston in a few minutes you would struggle to say no. His wide smile and soft eyes are drawing you in, but on top of that he seems nice. Someone you would actually have a good afternoon chatting with. “I’m actually meeting someone,” you reply.

“Oh that’s a shame, I’m leaving Toronto in a few hours. Think I can get your number; take you out when I come back?”

Before you can answer you feel Felix brush against your legs and let out an excited bark. He jumps up on you almost knocking you over and you immediately feel Auston’s hands on your hips and Josh grip your elbow, holding you upright. Auston mumbles some bullshit to Felix about manners, but you ignore it. Trying to focus on the eager pup, when in actuality you feel fire ignite where their hands connect to you.

“Hey man,” Josh says to Auston releasing your elbow.

“Hey Josh,” Auston says politely stepping beside you. You immediately sense the tension, Auston puffing his chest keeping on hand on the small of your back. Josh’s gaze flicks between you and Auston a little, realizing this is the person you are meeting but he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. You take a harsh swallow, the cold Toronto air burning your throat.

Tick tock, tick tock.

You have no longer how long you all have been standing there, likely only a few seconds but time feels like it has stopped. The only sound besides passing cars is the excited whines and yelps Felix lets out while he circles around your feet. Shifting awkwardly you stare between the two men not wanting to be the first to make a move. Finally Auston clears his throat glaring at Josh, pulling you in tighter to his chest. So close you can smell his cologne.

“Well I’m going to grab my coffee. Nice meeting you y/n,” Josh smiles, stepping around you to go through the door.

“A Hab really?” Auston jokes kissing your cheek, following Josh with his eyes until the door shuts behind him. His lips are warm on your cool skin, eyes look slightly heavy from the previous night's game, and dark curls pop out under the toque he’s wearing that barely covers his ears.

“What?” you ask confused, bending down to pet Felix who is still enthralled by your presence.

“Josh,” he nods inside and you shake your head shooting him a puzzled look. “That’s Josh Anderson. He plays for the Montreal Canadians.”

“Oh that’s why he looked familiar,” you say glancing back inside briefly, you watched the game last night and you remember him. He looks a little different without the equipment or covered in sweat, but his thick hair and smile is what stood out to you. Felix takes the opportunity to kiss your cheek causing you to laugh and look back at Auston. “You watch him for a sec so I can get our drinks?” Auston asks, handing you the leash.

Josh comes out first saying goodbye to you and giving Felix a few pets before making his way down the street. Auston is out not too long after, 2 paper cups in hand. You try to hand the leash back, but he tells you to keep it, feeding you some line about Felix being happy to see you. You know Felix doesn’t care who holds his leash, he is just happy to be on a walk but you aren’t going to object.

It’s only been two days since you saw him. Fred watched him for the Leaf’s short road trip and you spent some time over there during it. While Fred went to physio you would take him on long walks, walks too long for Fred and his knee right now. Fred joked about how close you were thinking it’s the first time you met him.

You took naps on the couch and played with him. He followed you around everywhere, whining and clawing at the door when Fred locked him out for an hour. When you finally opened the door he almost tackled you with his excitement. That night when you went to go to bed he climbed between the two of you resting his head on your chest while you fell asleep, gently petting the top of his head. Every time you saw him Felix would be more excited than the last.

“Thought you Canadians are inferior to the cold,” Auston jokes when a strong wind gust blows from the lake and through the streets. Shivering you pulling your zipper up further, pulling your toque further down your ears.

“Lets go warm up, my place is only a couple blocks away,” he puts a hand on your back to guide you. It’s the smallest contact, a slight brush against your back before his hand falls into his pocket for warmth. But through your jacket and sweater your skin burns from the ever so slight touch.

Stepping into the lobby you instantly feel the warmth of his building hit your face. “You had a good game last night,” you smile knowing he can’t see it through your mask.

“Woah you actually watched,” he teases, pulling his mask over his face.

“Yeah, you know hanging around hockey players all the time figured I should watch a game or two,” you joke. “You know with not teaching I have some spare time.”

“I’m glad you find time in your busy schedule to watch me on TV.” You give him a playful nudge hitting the button for the elevator. “How is it going with work? Find anything yet?” he asks, bending down to give Felix some pets for patiently waiting.

“No, all schools in Ontario go 100% online Monday so there are a lot of us in the same situation right now across the province. I’m sure something will come along I’m not too worried right now.”

“You’re smart, you’ll figure something out,” he says looking up at you. His black mask is covering half of his face, but from the creases beside his eyes you can tell he is smiling at you. Before you can reply you hear the doors creak open and turn your attention to it.

You notice a body in the elevator who shifts into the corner to make space. Taking a step in you are met by a tall man with broad shoulders, hood of his Nike sweater pulled over his red hair, mask covering half of his face. But you immediately recognize the eyes, stopping you in your tracks.

Auston walks into your back not realizing you stopped and Felix jumps up at his feet. Fred stares at the two of you for a second with a look of confusion, blinking a few times. Like he doesn’t believe it’s actually you behind the mask; but his eyes soften and he turns his attention to the eager pup. You shift uncomfortably, eyes darting between Auston and Fred. Auston looks unphazed a small smirk tugging on his lips.

“What’s going on?” Fred asks standing up, still petting Felix’s head.

“Just grabbed some coffee,” you say quietly.

“Yeah just hanging out,” Auston adds in. “What about you?”

“Just getting home from the rink, was gonna see if you wanted to hangout.”

Auston glances over at you briefly before back to his friend, “yeah for sure man,” Auston replies. Stepping off the elevator on Auston’s floor the three of you head towards his apartment. The two of them chat about something from the game last night, almost oblivious to the fact you are there while you trail a few steps back.

Once inside Auston takes of Felix’s leash and wanders to the kitchen to get him some fresh water. Fred lingers once his shoes are off watching you remove your jacket and boots. Once you hang up your coat Fred’s hands are on your hip backing you against the door, handle digging into your back, “you two having fun.”

His words hang thick in the air, stepping closer he pushes you in further, his breath hot on your neck. When you don’t reply he squeezes your hips, driving the handle further into your back causing you to hiss out a yes. His musty cologne and hot breath has moisture pooling between your legs, the only thing holding you up is his nails digging into your skin.

“Hmm,” he hums as you take a few uneasy breaths. “How long has this been going on smuk,” he places soft open mouth kisses on your neck waiting for you to reply.

“Uh...” you stutter, voice catching in your throat when he nips your skin. “Just the,” you mumble groaning, “one other time

“Cute,” he mumbles placing a kiss to your cheek, the edge of his lips brushing the corner of yours. Pulling back slightly he smirks at you and turns his gaze down the hall, smugness plastered on his face while he locks eyes with Auston who silently watches the exchange.

Your chest heaves and you swallow dryly taking a minute. Without another word he leaves you trying to catch your breath while he walks down the hall. Craning your head slightly you see Auston at the other end watching the entire interaction. Expressionless he follows Fred to the couch, as you try to compose yourself.

You don’t know why but you contemplate walking down the hall and saying you aren’t feeling well and heading home. But that seems obvious. And Fred didn’t seem mad did he?

The three of you sit on the couch, Felix circling, constantly bringing someone a toy or whining for pets. It’s a lazy afternoon and easy, the boys watching some golf tournament that you have no interest in. Fred mindlessly runs circles over your ankle while they chat, your head resting on his pillow.

His touch is soft but soothing. Every circle he draws you feel your blood pressure drop before you finally are at ease. Fred is smiling, Auston laughs at something he said. Everything seems fine, like you worked yourself up over nothing.

“So y/n has the hots for Josh Anderson,” Auston says part way through golf which immediately catches your attention, turning your gaze from Felix to the boys. Auston has a smug look plastered on his face while he winks at you, and Fred has a dark mischievous grin.

“Oh yeah,” Fred grins as you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Apparently we aren’t doing a good enough job,” Auston grins and your eyes go wide. You hear Fred laugh lightly squeezing your ankle tightly.

“Never said that,” you whisper, so faintly you aren’t even sure you spoke. Fred’s hand on your ankle tightens and he pulls you so you’re back is flat to the couch. Quickly his body is on yours, pinning your wrists to the couch at your side.

“Is that true baby? Are me and Auston not satisfying you? Not fulfilling your needs?” he murmurs eyes locked down at you. His chest presses into you, the air around you shifting. You try to swallow, but your throat is dry being starved of saliva.

“Pretty sure he asked you a question princess.” You didn’t even notice but Auston moved across the room, his mouth is millimeters from your ear.

Tilting your head slightly, you feel a hand on your jaw holding you in place, forcing your gaze up to Fred. You aren’t even sure whose hand it is until you feel the leather bracelet brush your neck and immediately know its Auston.

“What do you say man, should we take her to your room? Show her how good she has it,” Fred doesn’t pull his eyes away, while his comments are fully directed at Auston. Another display of his dominance over you making the slick between your legs build even more. “Make her regret even mentioning thinking of him”

You practically can hear the smugness oozing off the man beside you, only answering a quick but firm, “yes.”

Fred’s body is off yours as fast as he was on you. In an instant he easily throws you over his shoulder, carrying you down the hall to Auston’s room. Once back on your feet they begin to remove your clothing. Fred on your right, Auston on your left, both sucking on your neck working in unison; articles of clothing littering his bedroom floor, leaving you in just your matching underwear. If it wasn’t for the two hot bodies pressed against you goosebumps would be popping all over your body.

Auston unclasps your bra, sliding his tongue along your collarbone. Fred sucks on your neck when you hear fabric ripping, your underwear being torn off of you. Fred smirks against you, knowing you have been on them for all the shredded underwear they have left you with over the last three months, but neither seems to care.

Auston’s hand makes work of your breast, massaging and pinching the nipple. Gently rolling it through his thumb and index finger while Fred manipulates your legs apart, thrusting two thick digits inside of your folds. The unexpected nature causes you to whine while both men chuckle against you.

“Most women would be happy to have one man and you have two” Auston murmurs.

“Let’s make sure she never thinks about him again,” Fred sneers. Your head falls back and you begin to moan louder, his fingers quickly thrusting in and out of you. Auston’s other hand roams your back, sliding down to your ass, giving you firm squeezes to roll your hips forward further onto Fred’s digits.

If it wasn’t for both men on either side practically supporting your entire body weight, your knees would buckle. Fred pulls away slightly to get a better look at you, to watch you fall apart over his fingers. Your gaze meets his and his pupils are dilated, black with lust.

Increasing his fingers, thumb finding your clit you know you won’t last much longer. Incoherent thoughts are all you can manage, whimpers and curse words falling from your lips.

“Hear how wet you are princess?” Auston’s mouth is pressed against your ear. One hand cupping your breast his other firmly squeezing your ass. “Freddie’s hand is coated because of you,” he mumbles, you head a chuckle from the man on your right.

“This is nothing,” Fred asserts, but before you can process the weight of his words your orgasm crashes over you. Knees trembling, walls fluttering; blood pulsates through your body causing you to groan loudly.

As soon as you come down the boys release you and you almost fall over. Walking like a newborn deer on ice, you make your way to the bed while both men quickly strip. There must have been a silent exchange because Auston is quickly sitting in the middle of the mattress pulling you towards him.

Your back is to his chest and you can feel his hard erection pressed into your back as he brushes your hair aside exposing one side of his neck for him. “How many do you think it’ll take princess?” he hums his voice soft in your ear. “How many until you can’t even remember Josh’s name anymore?”

His words go right to your core, vibrating through your folds. Your chest heaves and your body shudders thinking of his statement. You know the question is rhetorical, but even if you had a number it wouldn’t be enough.

Fred stands at the end of the bed, eyes switching between yours and the slick dripping between your legs. Every time his eyes drop they stay a little longer, licking his lips at the sight. You begin to feel like a piece of meat and both men have been starved of food for weeks. You move your legs to close them, but Auston’s hands quickly grip your thighs holding you open for him.

Fred shakes his head while Auston rasps, “you know better than that princess,” in your ear; digging his thumbs into your flesh. Your entire body shivers and you take an uneasy exhale, knowing you are in for it. Quickly Fred crawls onto the bed, making his way towards your heat while someone, you aren’t sure who, bends your knees. Fred places soft kisses on the inside of your thigh and knee. The thought of what he will do has you dizzy. Flattening his tongue he licks up the mess from before, your entire body jolts but Auston firmly grips your legs open holding you is place.

“Such a good girl,” he mumbles as Fred laps up all your juices. A few more licks and Fred thick fingers find your heat, curling back inside you “taste so good hun” he adds.

Throwing your head back against Auston’s shoulder you groan “fuck,” but all it does is give him a better view.

“Look at you taking Fred’s fingers,” Auston hums as you feel Fred’s mouth attach to your clit. Auston’s voice is hot and heavy, Fred’s fingers hitting your g-spot with every thrust and soon your second orgasm is building deep inside you.

“Oh fuck,” you hiss while Fred’s tongue circles your clit, swirling in a figure eight on a continuous loop.

“You gonna cum again princess,” Auston says in your ear. “Coat his face?”

Incoherent sounds fall from both sets of your lips. You’re so wet that the obscene sound of his fingers fucking in and out of you makes your entire body heat up. Between both of their sinful mouths, Fred’s attached to your cunt and Auston’s whispering a string of filth on your ear, you are right back on the edge. Your heels dig into the mattress and it’s only a matter of time. Auston’s mouth purring in your ear, Fred’s tongue carefully circling your clit is more than you can take.

Your second orgasm rolls through you, little fires exploding in your hear. Fred slows slightly to draw it out while Auston holds you firm against his chest and you tremble in his embrace. His dick twitches against your back watching as white spills out. You sag against Auston’s chest, body tingling as your juices coat Fred’s face.

Pulling away from your heat your fog begins to settle. Fred has a dark smile, his beard coated in your slick heat. “What do you think does she need one more? Or should we fuck her ‘til she can’t walk anymore?” Fred says to Auston.

“She definitely needs one more,” Auston replies, hands digging harshly into your thighs keeping them spread apart.

“Ungh,” is all you can whimper in response, closing your eyes to take a few uneasy breaths while your legs relax, falling back to the mattress.

There must have been an exchange between the two or maybe you are still coming down from your high and don’t hear the question, but you do hear Auston say, “all you man I’m really enjoying the view.”

A hand is on your throat pulling your face away from Auston’s shoulder. Next a pair of lips are on yours, in a hot and hungry way. Immediately you know it’s Fred; not from the facial hair but the taste of yourself on his tongue.

Fingers are thrust back inside you, but your groans are swallowed by Fred’s mouth. Auston throws his calves over your shins, keeping you spread for his friend while his hands trail up your body. One finds your breast, the other finding your clit, thumb concentrating on pressing harsh circles into it.

Your pussy quivers at the contact it all becoming a lot. It’s almost too much. And then you feel Auston’s mouth on your neck and you know its game over. Being sandwiched between these men, fingers and tongues all over your skin has you pulling away from Fred for some much needed air.

“Holy fuck,” you moan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, beads of sweat are rolling down the valley of your breasts. Your scream gets ripped from your throat and your vision goes white, wave after wave of euphoria rolling through you. Both men groan as your warmth spills around Fred’s wrist and onto the bed.

“God you are so beautiful when you cum,” Auston groans in your ear.

“Bet Josh would never make you feel like that,” Fred mumbles, finally pulling his fingers from you. Grabbing your jaw he forces your mouth open, shoving his fingers inside for you to lick clean. You have barely caught your breath and almost choke, but quickly work to clean your slick from his finger.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” he purrs. Pulling away he lands beside you on the mattress, Auston quickly crawls out from behind. Falling backwards landing on the mattress, Fred brushes your sweaty hair from your forehead mumbling something to you in Danish.

Before you can react Auston in between your legs, hands on the back of your ankles pulling you closer, his throbbing tip pressing against your entrance “Remember the word,” Fred asks.

“Yeah,” you barely manage to say, throat incredibly dry.

“What is it,” Auston asks, waiting to continue.

“Yellow,” you manage to whisper through some uneasy breaths.

“You okay,” Auston asks, and you turn your head to stare up at him with a nod, tears resting in the edge of your eyes.

“You have to say it,” Fred says softly.

“M’okay” you say smiling at the softness of the two men, no matter how dominant or aggressive they are they always make you’re okay.

With that Auston thrusts inside your walls, Fred’s handiwork providing an easy lubrication so he gives you no time to adjust. Snapping his hips he sets a fast pace eyes dark and staring between your legs, watching his thick cock slide in and out of your sopping cunt. Pulling your bottom lip through your teeth you whimper, warm tears now rolling down your cheek.

“Just be thankful he is letting you off easy by being on top,” Fred winks rolling onto his side gently pressing his lips into your shoulder.

Wrapping your legs around his waist he snaps his hip, “figured she could use a minute,” he grunts. “But only a minute,” his hands are on your hips and he forcefully pulls you back increasing his pace causing you to cry out.

“Y/N,” Auston calls forcing you to whine as your head turns. “I think you should say thank you to Fred for taking such good care of you earlier,” he nods down to Fred’s hard member resting beside your hand. You honestly don’t think you could do much even if you tried, but when you slowly turn to meet Fred’s gaze he smiles at you.

“It would be nice if you said thank you skat,” Fred mumbles, sucking on your sweet spot beside your ear. Reaching out you wrap your hand around his length giving him a few slow tugs.

“Faster baby,” Fred mumbles, his words vibrating through your body. You try to set a fast pace, but Auston quickly has you distracted. Every thrust is hard and deep, brushing your g-spot before he pulls back. He knows exactly what he wants, each thrust calculated as he drags his cock along your walls. Every time he pounds into you your hand stutters around Fred’s length, but he’s loving it, smirking against your neck.

Each time Auston hits your g-spot you squirm and he is getting off on it. His eyes getting darker and darker, a grin tugging on his lips a little more each time. Fred continues to pepper your collar bone with kisses before working his way down your chest and back up again. His mouth is everywhere when his thumb attaches to your clit.

“Fuck Fred,” you jolt from the contact.

“Pretty sure it’s Auston making you feel this good,” Fred mumbles in your ear. “He’s the one with his dick buried inside you right now.”

Every statement is accompanied by harder faster circles on your bundle of nerves. Nails gripping your hips harder, cock sliding in and out faster. “He feel good baby?” Fred hums. “He feel good stretching you out? You’re taking him so well, you gonna cum all over his cock?”

“Fuck she’s close,” Auston announces as if you and Fred didn’t know. Releasing your hand from Fred’s cock you feel your body erupt around Auston’s dick.

If you thought the first three were intense, the fourth is pure fireworks. Every extremity is tingling and you feel lightning bolts erupt inside. Your walls flutter and both men groan as you disintegrate under Auston, melting into the bed. Neither man stops and soon you are met by Auston’s sticky warmth flooding your walls. He grunts and slows his hips, a few shallow thrusts and he spills everything he has inside you.

Fred pops his head up and looks towards your cunt, watching his friend coat your insides white. Momentary confusion crosses his face before turning back to you. Apart from the first time which Auston didn’t mean to, he has never once spent inside of you. Always spilling on your ass, tits or sometimes thrusting his cock inside your mouth so you can swallow it down. He doesn’t know when you and Auston fucked last week you told him can doesn’t need to pull out. He doesn’t know how every time over the past three months you have a moment of disappointed when Auston pulls out of you. How you are excited for your pussy to overflow with a mixture of both men’s cum.

Auston pulls out and falls beside you and Fred’s face softens. He smiles at you, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lip as he takes in your face. Absolutely fucked out and flush, hair a mess, splayed across the bed, makeup likely smeared down your cheek. Licking your lips you pull Fred’s face down for a searing earth shattering kiss.

Your hand tangles into his roots, his thumb drawing circles just below your ribcage. Tongue sliding into the others mouth and you tug harder trying to pull him on top of you but he doesn’t budge. Instead he falls onto his back pulling you on top of him.

“We all can’t go easy on you,” Fred winks while adjusting you over him. A mixture of sticky white fluids spill out and onto Fred while he lines himself up.

“Got one more in ya princess? You gonna cum for Freddie like you did me?” Auston asks and you shake your head, body barely functioning at this point.

“Oh baby we all know you do”

“Umph,” you mewl as he easily pulls you down, Auston’s cum spilling out around his girth.

Your hand quickly lands on Fred’s stomach, his abs covered in a thin layer of sweat. Your breath hitches when he bucks his hips while you try and take a minute, slowly grinding your hips, trying to compose yourself as best you can.

“Cocks not gonna ride itself,” Auston chortles from beside you.

Your eyes go wide and Fred smirks, shooting you a wink, you start rising and dropping around him, Fred bucking his hips to press deep inside you. Feeling his tip almost in your belly a slew of curse words fall from your lips. With every thrust you can feel more of Auston’s cum spilling out. A part of you thinks Fred thrusts up and pulls your hips down so harshly to fuck it out of you, but either way you are heading back towards the edge.

“That’s right take me deep baby,” Fred praises his back arching off the bed slightly.

You can tell he is enjoying watching you squirm above him. Your overly sensitive cunt barely able to take any more. Luckily the time you spent with your hand wrapped around him earlier means his high is close too.

“You’re taking me so well, baby girl,” Fred praises.

“You gonna cum for him like you did for your me, huh? Milk his cock for all it’s worth?” Auston asks, drawing your gaze to his dark brown orbs. You had almost forgot Auston was there, you are barely able to focus on Fred the pound driving up into your cervix let alone the man beside you catching his breath.

“Mmgh, I don’t… I don’t think I can,” you keen helplessly into thin air.

“Yeah you can, princess,” Auston urges gently.

Auston sits up pinching your nipple and you hiss from the friction his hand is causing, mouth grazes along your throat, his mustache brushing it ever so slightly. You don’t need him, Fred’s cock driving into your throbbing pussy with every thrust. Fred will get you there, but Auston’s mouth on your neck, hand on your nipple sends you catapulting over the edge.

Fred’s hands dig into your hips and Auston’s arm catch your body as you tremble above his friend. Auston spews filth in your ear, Fred mumbling Danish praise below you, but you hear none of it. Vision whiting out, ears filled with a high pitch ring as Fred fucks you through your high. Wave after wave of ecstasy overwhelms your body, Fred gives you a few more sloppy thrusts before painting your walls white. The two men support you while Auston slowly lowers you onto Fred’s chest while you catch your breath.

Auston leans on his elbow beside you, brushing your hair drenched with sweat from your forehead. Both you and Fred are breathless, clammy with sweat as his dick softens inside of you.

“So you learn to keep other guy’s names out of your mouth,” Auston sneers .

“I was obviously joking,” you groan while Fred brings a hand up to lightly draw on your back.

“Wasn’t very funny,” Fred adds.

“One Andersen is more than enough,” you try to push off of Fred put he tightens his grip wrapping his arm around your back, pulling you back down to his chest.

You hear Auston’s feet on the wood floor, and he returns a minute later with some water and a damp wash cloth. Fred gingerly lifts your body, sliding his cock out as some cum spills out. Once off him, Auston hands you the glass and Fred the towel who gently wipes between your legs while you whimper from the contact.

Auston having found some boxers, pulls a t-shirt over your head and pulls you back into the bed with him. Lying on your side you curl into his arm, using his tattooed bicep as a pillow, your hand lying on his chest. Fred crawls in behind you, hand on your hip, warm breath on your neck.

You hear the click clacking of Felix’s nails on the wood floor as he gets closer. The bedroom door finally open, he lets himself in jumping onto the bed and curling up between your legs and Auston as you all quickly fall asleep.