#also i wrote this on my phone so have mercy

[owl127]

What do you think of something like omega lexa who wants to get into a more active lifestyle as best as she can so she hires alpha personal trainer Clarke to help her. Would be very cute

(Ao3)

It was intimidating.

All the younger, sexy, and comically loud omegas working out with outfits that Lexa overgrew a decade ago. The music was loud, the colors bright, and the alphas lured at every corner, seeking, watching. Judging.

Lexa would have given up on week one if she had tried this by herself.

"One more, Lexa, one more. You can do it!"

Lexa grunted at her personal trainer, the genius-sculpted statue of a woman that was Clarke Griffin. Lexa first thought she would be another source of intimidation at the gym, but the alpha surprised her with, well, everything.

Clarke was hot, sure, but she was kind. Gentle. Annoyingly patient, detailed oriented, and hot. Hot deserved a second mention in Lexa's middle-aged, divorced brain.

"You try giving another one after popping out two pups!" Lexa bit back from the mattress, sweating profusely as she went for the final push up. Stupid alpha with her stupid encouragement and her stupid shorts that did absolutely nothing to hide her ass. And, holy cow, today was one of those blessed days when Lexa could also see the contour of her—

"Great job!" Clarke interrupted her repressed sexual thoughts. "I knew you could do it! What about a celebratory smoothie? It's Friday. On me!"

Lexa nodded and immediately lay prone on the mattress, trying to control her breathing. They did that sometimes. Smoothies, ice cream (sorbet for Clarke because at least one of them had abs), juice, coffee. Clarke always had an excuse like, "happy Friday", or "I need a pick me up", "it's free, why say no, Lexa?". And Lexa would go with it, at first thinking she did that with other students, too.

It took Lexa two months to notice that, no; she did not do that to other students.

"Mango Paradise," Clarke said with s hint of pride for remembering Lexa's order as they picked up their smoothies. The early morning crowd was slowing down, and Lexa would need to leave soon to drop the kids at school.

"Thank you." She blushed. She didn't know why Clarke made her blush, but she rolled with it.

Because there was no way on god's green Earth that someone as hot as Clarke Griffin, personal trainer and a decade younger than Lexa, was hitting on her.

Lexa had stretch marks, cellulite, a pouch. Her braids were peppered in persistent grays that did not get the note that they were unwelcome.

So one can imagine Lexa's absolute confusion when Clarke, blushing, asked if she was single.

Lexa barked out a laugh that made the young couple on the other table eye them funny.

"I'm sorry?" Clarke's cheeks blazed in the spring morning, and she sucked on her Green Detox. "Did I say something funny?"

Lexa focused on how the smoothie made her teeth a light, toxic yellow before Clarke swallowed.

"What are the odds that I'm not single? Just look at me, Clarke." Self deprecating jokes, Lexa's classic MO.

"I'm looking, and that's why I asked. You're beautiful, Lexa."

Another parrot like laugh escaped Lexa's throat, and this time she had the decency to apologize to the table next to them.

"You sound like you're hitting on me," she said mischievously, slurping on her orange bomb of tropical fruits.

Clarke's face went tomato red and Lexa's stomach dropped.

"You're hitting on me," she said to no one in particular.

"Well… yeah."

"But you're hot."

"Thanks?"

"And young."

"I'm 27."

"Younger, I mean."

"Lexa, if you want to say no—"

"That's not what I said." The council of omegas would expel Lexa as a member if she ever said no to someone like Clarke. "I'm just… surprised. It's… it's been a while." Heat crept up her cheeks, and she drowned it with mango.

"I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. We've been working together for a semester now, and if you're okay with it, I'd love to go out for dinner."

Sex, sex, sex! Lexa's brain chanted, and she cleared her throat.

"Dinner. Yeah, that sounds good. You have my number, right?"

"Yeah. There's an Ethiopian place in my neighborhood. I can text you the address, if that's better for you?"

Lexa smiled, touched. Clarke ever remembered her comments about good food.

"Wednesday is a good day for me."

"Wednesday," Clarke repeated with a toxic green smile. "Shoot, I need to get back to my next client. See you later, Lexa."

Before Lexa could react, Clarke leaned in her direction and pecked her cheek. She watched her walk away, her shorts clinging to everything holy and unholy.

The omega from the next table offered her a thumbs up and Lexa replied with another one.

Doing intimidating things paid off sometimes.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: HUNGRY FOR MORE

✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!gojo x detective!reader: fucking the serial killer you're supposed to be arresting might be the best (or worst) decision you've ever made. PART 2 | NSFW

contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, public sex (in an alley), p –> v, orgasm denial, fingering, he cums inside, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, lil' bit of dumbification, hair pulling, squirting, dirty talk, manipulation/coercion, mentions of murder (he's a serial killer what did u expect), non-sexual mentions/usage of guns, probably more. 3K words.

author's note: wrote this instead of writing my research paper and studying for my math final. if this flops i will actually become the serial killer /j. anywaysss tagging @satoruhour @screampied @satorena.. and yes, the "season 2 coming soon" in the banner means something ;)

“looks like your little killing spree’s gonna have to come to an end,” you muse, crossing your arms and cocking an eyebrow at the man across from you. he grins back at you, and it’s almost unsettling—he looks a little too smug for a killer who’s just been caught.

“i don’t think so, sweetheart,” the man responds dryly, leaning back against the alley wall, features relaxed and at ease. he—satoru gojo—has been your target for a couple weeks, and now that you’ve finally cornered him, you find yourself feeling a little… unfulfilled. usually, when you caught criminals, they begged for mercy and showed a little more emotion than what satoru’s shown so far. 

also, the criminals usually weren’t this good-looking.

you maintain eye contact with satoru while you carefully reach into your coat’s pocket, withdrawing your phone and unlocking it. unexpectedly, satoru doesn’t make any move to stop you from dialing the number to your boss, instead smiling coyly as you do so.

“so, you’re one of those guys who don’t care what happens to them?” you ask, tilting your head as you hold the phone to your ear. satoru shrugs and his grin only widens the longer your phone rings. ten seconds pass before your phone tells you that the number you dialed is currently busy, and satoru’s muffled laughter becomes unbearably suspicious. you narrow your eyes and involuntarily take a step back. “what’s with the smile?”

satoru scoffs and dips his head, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step towards you. “y’know, you’re rather brave, comin’ out to catch a serial killer all by yourself. and in the middle of the night, too.” he stops advancing when he sees you pull a gun out of your pocket and hold it up threateningly, a look of warning in your eyes. “okay, okay, relax. i’m not gonna do anything to your pretty face.”

“what did you do?” you ask suspiciously. satoru widens his eyes in mock disbelief, as if he’s completely and utterly shocked that you’d ever accuse him of anything.

“besides the fifteen separate counts of murder? not much, really.”

“i’m not an idiot,” you snap, cocking the gun and aiming it at his head. “you’re not the one in control here, satoru gojo. spit it out before i put a bullet through your skull.”

satoru laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. “fiesty, aren’t we? it’s alright, i like my girls with a little fire in them.” he tilts his head to the side and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on parts of you that suddenly make you feel naked, despite the coat covering most of your figure. “put down the gun, sweetheart, then we can talk.”

you wait a second, scanning satoru’s overly relaxed face before cautiously lowering the gun. “what are you hiding?” you ask again, eyes hardening.

“a lot of things. but i think you’re talking about what i did to your boss, right?”

“you have five seconds before i shoot you.”

satoru makes a face and then rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, since you’re bein’ so pushy about it. i killed him, obviously. you’re a smart girl, shouldn’t you have figured that out by now?” when you don’t immediately answer, satoru sighs and shakes his head. “and here i thought that the girl who’d been tailing me for the past week would have a little sense in that pretty head of hers. looks like i was wrong.”

“shut it,” you snap again, re-dialing the number and letting your phone ring for fifteen seconds. when nobody picks up, you internally curse and think about what to do next. dialing 911 would be worth a try, but the look in satoru’s ice-blue eyes makes you think otherwise. despite the gun in your hand, something about him makes you entirely certain that he could overpower you, even if you landed a shot on him. and even if you just shot him right now, he’s been shown in the past to be able to function fine with a bullet through his chest. that’s how two of your subordinates lost their lives to him—by underestimating your city’s notorious killer.

so you decide to bide your time.

“ran out of options?” satoru asks smugly. he raises an eyebrow when you slide your phone back into your pocket and exhales a laugh. “you gonna wait for a big, strong man to rescue you? ‘cause i’m right here, honey, and i could be your savior.”

“that was actually the shittiest line i’ve ever heard,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at the self-satisfied look on his face. “are you seriously proud of that one?”

“well, it worked.”

he pushes himself off the alley wall and towards you so fast that you hardly even have time to process it, and before you know it, you’re the one pressed to a wall with a gun to the side of your head. satoru’s other hand grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head, and his face is close enough to the point where you can feel his breath—which is unexpectedly minty—on your cheeks as he grins down at you. “you really think i’d use a line as shitty as that if i didn’t know it’d make you lower your guard? tch, you really shoulda known better.”

you use every curse word you’ve ever heard in that moment and grit your teeth, rapidly thinking through all the possible ways you could get out of this situation, but nothing comes to mind. you’re quite literally stuck in between a rock and a hard place, with a gun pressed to your head and with your limbs out of commission. 

satoru clicks his tongue and widens his eyes at you, leaning in closer. his lips are uncomfortably close to your own as he traces the gun down the side of your face, cold metal brushing against your heated skin. “not gonna fight back? that’s no fun.”

“the fuck you want me to do?” you snap irritably, glaring up at him and curling your hands into fists. satoru tightens his grip on your wrists and cooes a sarcastic apology to you, taking his time looking you up and down again. if you didn’t value your life, you probably would’ve said worse, but seeing as you were the only person in this ridiculously isolated alley, it wouldn’t be worth much. 

“i dunno. didn’t that detective academy or whatever teach you anything?”

you roll your eyes again, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you consider the possibility of your eyes getting permanently stuck in the back of your head just because of him. “y’know, you’re not giving me a whole lot of options.”

satoru laughs. “if i did, that’d defeat the whole purpose, wouldn’t it?”

at this point, death would be preferable to hearing his idiot talk any longer.

“so, i’m gonna be the one asking the questions from now on,” satoru continues, clicking his tongue disapprovingly when you scowl. “if you behave, i won’t hurt you that badly, ‘kay? keep that in mind.”

“thought you liked your girls feisty.”

“oh, that’s true,” satoru muses thoughtfully. “yeah, never mind, you can be a little bratty. i need a reason to fuck you stupid anyways,” he grins after a moment of consideration.

“what the fuck?”

“you heard me, sweetheart,” satoru cooes, feeling his pants tighten as he watches your eyes widen. your “tough” demeanor drops for a split second, and satoru can’t help but want to fuck it off again when it returns. your scowl deepens and you frantically think through all your options again, but there isn’t a whole lot you can do at this point.

“if you wanna stay alive, you’ll be a good girl and you won’t scream,” satoru murmurs, leaning in closer and pressing his lips to yours. you grit your teeth and try to shove him away with your shoulder, but it doesn’t do much. satoru smiles against your lips and hums softly, pulling away with an almost affectionate look on his face. it’s so at odds with who he is and what he’s done that you drop your guard again, wanting to believe that he really will keep his promise not to hurt you.

satoru sees the shift in your features and smiles tenderly, all traces of his borderline-sadistic look gone. he studies your face for a moment and kisses the corner of your mouth, letting his lips linger for a second before he pulls away again. “i’m gonna let your hands go now, m’kay?” when he drops your wrists, they fall limply on his shoulders as you warily study him, eyes wide with confusion. it’s jarring, the way he just… changed personalities within the span of a couple seconds. “i’m not gonna hurt you, pretty,” he breathes, dropping the gun and letting it fall to the floor with a loud thwak. “this’ll be a lot more fun for me if you don’t resist, yeah?”

oh, fuck it.

“okay,” you murmur, ignoring every siren going off in your head. you don’t really have any other options, and honestly, nobody was going to walk by and get you out of this sticky situation anytime soon. and satoru was pretty attractive… and you could just arrest him afterwards, right?

as if he read your mind, satoru smiles and promises, “you can handcuff me after i’m done with you. just let me have a little fun one last time, baby.”

yeah, it’d be a stupid decision to believe the sweet-talker towering over you. there’s no way he’s just going to let you drag him off to jail, but there’s a reason he’s stayed out of the grasp of the law for so long. it’s hard to live a life as on-the-edge as being a serial killer, but the reason satoru’s survived for this long is because he knows how to use his words. he knows how to make a person go against every warning in their head, and he knows how to get what he wants.

which, for tonight, includes you.

“you have thirty—no, twenty minutes,” you mumble, knowing damn well that this would be the end of your career as a detective. whether or not you dragged satoru in after all this, you could never continue your work knowing you had sex with the biggest serial killer in the city.

satoru laughs and kisses you again, lips trailing down your face and settling on your neck. “haven’t i already made it clear that i’m the one in control here?” he muses as he slips his hands under your coat and tugs it off. it falls to the cold ground and bunches up around your feet, leaving you in a button-up shirt and flowy, dark pants. “c’mon, let’s get these clothes off you.”

within a minute, the rest of your clothes save for a black lacy pair of undergarments join your coat on the floor, and the chilly nighttime air nips at your skin. “i’m cold,” you mumble, feeling yourself involuntarily tense up everywhere but where satoru’s hands cloak your skin. satoru laughs in response and presses his knee to the spot in between your thighs, and something in you snaps at the point of contact. 

“you really are an idiot, aren’t ya,” satoru scoffs, hand sliding down to your waist. his fingers latch on the waistband of your panties and he tugs them down, exposing your already-wet pussy to the cold evening air and his eyes. “lettin’ a serial killer fuck you in a dark alley… what kind of detective does that?” satoru spits on two of his fingers and slips them inside you, instantly groaning when he feels you clench around him. “fuck, you gotta be the tightest pussy i’ve felt in a while,” he mutters, white hair falling into his eyes as he looks down shamelessly. “do you not have sex with other guys?”

“don’t have time,” you swallow what would’ve been an embarrassingly loud moan as his fingers go deeper and deeper. how long are this man’s fucking fingers?

“aw, look at you, you’re so cute,” satoru cooes, smiling down at your scrunched up face. you look back at him through squinted eyes, hips starting to roll against his fingers. it’s true—you really haven’t had time to have sex given your already-insane schedule. it’s almost like you spent more time tracking the man who’s now knuckle-deep inside you than sleeping, but the slutty part of your head tells you that it paid off.

“‘m gonna cum,” you whine pitifully, squirming around satoru’s fingers as he curls them inwards, making you clench around him even tighter. a shiver runs over your body, starting from in between your thighs and spreading all over you as satoru’s fingers move back and forth inside your soaking wet cunt. “g-gojo—”

“call me satoru, baby, and you’re not cumming until i say you can.” with that, satoru withdraws his fingers from your pussy with a pop! and grins at the way you glare at him sullenly. he mockingly pouts and licks his drenched fingers clean, tongue lapping up your essence. “heh, don’t worry, i’ll make you cum more than you knew you could once you’re stuffed with my cock.”

although you’ve determined satoru’s “promises” to be dubious at best, he fufills this one after he’s spread your legs wide open and positioned his cock at your entrance. “this might hurt, baby, but remember, no screaming.” after you nod in acknowledgement, satoru slips his tip in and watches, amused, as you try to close your legs on reflex. “uh uh, keep ‘em nice and wide f’me,” satoru tuts disapprovingly.

and true to his word, it hurts—a dull ache spreads throughout your legs as his dick goes farther and farther inside you, reaching places you hadn’t felt in a long time. satoru’s hands settle somewhere on your waist as he pushes himself deeper, ignoring your gasps and pleas for him to slow down a little. your shaky hands move to his hair and you unwittingly pull on it, somehow eliciting a soft groan from satoru’s lips, and somewhere in the back of your mind you think that of course a serial killer has a hair pulling kink—it just makes sense. 

“s-satoru, it won’t fit,” you whisper, feeling satoru hit an especially tight spot in your cunt. even with how wet you are, it just feels like you can’t possibly take any more of him—he might as well be ten feet inside you, given the pain in your hips. but, as expected, satoru only smiles tauntingly down at you and murmurs words of encouragement as he somehow pushes past the barrier and gets all the way in amid your pained whimpers.

“yeah, that’s it, knew you could do it,” satoru says sweetly, voice coated with poisonous honey. now that he’s all the way in, the ache from your waist down starts to fade into pleasure, especially as satoru starts moving himself in and out to get you used to the feeling of his dick. “just like that, pretty girl. jus’ like that.”

soon enough, he sets an unexpectedly harsh pace that makes your back arch off the cold, brick wall behind you, and even as satoru tries to keep up his “cool serial killer” act, you can hear his quivering breaths as he gets close to cumming. “shit, i forgot how fuckin’ good it felt to fuck a cunt this tight—” he mutters through gritted teeth. “‘m gonna cum inside, ‘kay?”

you nod breathlessly, chasing your own pleasure and not actually listening to the words satoru murmurs in your ear. at this point, it didn’t matter—all your pathetic little head could think about was satoru’s dick, and somehow, you forget that he’s a killer when he cums inside you. it’s hot and thick and it almost knocks you over—when was the last time you felt this good, if ever?

the coil in your stomach snaps and you cum with him, nodding along to satoru’s praises on how well you’re taking him. you squirt all over his painfully hard dick and suck in a sharp breath as you do so, body trembling from the force of both of your orgasms.

“see, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” satoru murmurs when you both come down from your highs, stroking your hair almost tenderly. you bob your head in response, face warm and eyes unable to properly focus. he stuffs his fingers back inside your puffy cunt and scoops the cum dripping down your thighs back inside, mumbling something about not letting a single drop go to waste. “who knew the pretty detective i’d had my eye on would be this good to me?” he cooes, grinning snarkily.

satoru’s earlier promise floats through your head and you force yourself to look him in the eye. “y-you said you’d let me arrest you after,” you breathe, back still pressed to the wall as satoru surveys you amusedly.

“oh, sweetheart, you’re in no condition to be giving orders,” satoru says condescendingly, pulling up his pants and grinning at you. his cheeks are still flushed red, but whether that’s from the cold nighttime air or from the heated sex, you don’t quite know. “we should do this again sometime,” he continues conversationally as he picks up your coat for you. despite the fact that you’re still naked and trembling, satoru drapes your coat around your shoulders and helps you button it up.

“but you said—” you protest, but satoru cuts you off with a raised eyebrow.

“you didn’t seriously believe me, did you?” satoru tuts, shaking his head. “i’m a serial killer. i’m not gonna turn myself in just ‘cause of a detective’s pretty pussy, baby. you should’ve known better, doll.” satoru wraps an arm around your limp shoulders and tugs you in for a kiss, lips pressing firmly against your own for a couple seconds before he pulls away with a satisfied smile.

he leaves you with a promise to see you soon.

[xxsabitoxx]

How JJK Men Eat Pussy 2.0

Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Yuta, Itadori, Megumi

Warnings: All characters are 18+, this post is explicit smut. As if you couldn’t tell that from the title

A/N: Funny story, I forgot I already wrote this same concept last year… but since I didn’t realize until I finished writing this… imma post it anyways. But if you’d like to see my original thoughts on this topic, you can see them here with an additional 2 characters lol

Gojo Satoru

He is relentless, especially when he’s in the mood to go down on you. These little moods of his will have him between your legs for hours, multiple times a day. You always like to joke that he knows when you’re ovulating because somehow these little moods seem to fall in sync. If Satoru goes more than three days without you, it’s like he’s going through withdrawals. He’s skilled with his tongue, he’s able to move it in ways and speeds you didn’t know a man could. Typically he’s a tease, he’ll edge you until you have an orgasm so pathetic you can’t even call it one. Ya know, the kinds where you come and don’t feel that satisfaction, just the pulsating ache of needing more. But recently, Satoru discovered how much more fun it is to overstimulate you. He loves the way your finger’s bury in his hair and try to tug him off as he sucks on your clit until you’re sobbing and begging him to ease up. He’ll keep your thighs spread wide, large hands effortlessly keeping them in place while they desperately try and close. He’s also the type to see those “pineapple make’s your cum sweet” articles and come home with enough pineapples to feed a village. He’s not even embarrassed about his reasoning, even if it’s just a myth, his sweet tooth can’t pass up the opportunity. Satoru loves your natural taste, but you surprised him with edible lubes in various fruity and sweet flavors one night… you still recall seeing the sun rise. 

Geto Suguru

He’s a god at eating pussy and you can’t convince me otherwise. Suguru has always been about your pleasure over his, not to say he doesn’t have his selfish moments, but your pleasure is just so much fun to him. He loves the noise, the facial expressions, the smell, the taste. The first time he went down on you, you were convinced he was lying about it being his first time. The ability just came naturally to Suguru. Like Satoru, Suguru loves to tease you. He’ll focus all of his attention on your dripping entrance, only stimulating your clit if his nose bumps it. He loves the way you squirm, his nails leaving crescent shaped nail marks in the plump flesh of your thighs as he holds you in place. He loves your breathless gasps, his long hair tickling your thighs as he eats you out, only adding to the stimulation that’s making your toes curl. Suguru loves to make you beg, pulling his mouth away from your cunt to just barely flick his tongue over your clit. He’ll stop all together just to taunt you until you’re sobbing, begging him to do something. He has a whole album on his phone dedicated to you, most of the content being videos of him eating you out, some he even made you take just so he could see the camera shake with your effort to keep it straight and hear your noises better. He puts on a show for you, slurping and sucking and moaning just to feel your thighs tremble as you moan with him. 

Nanami Kento

Eating you out is a stress reliever for Nanami… so it happens like very fucking day. Lord help me this man will spend hours edging you, cheek pressed into your thigh as he lazily licks and nips at your cunt. He can’t think about anything but you when he is between our legs, moaning and whining his name like a beautiful lullaby. He’ll let you cum eventually, but for the time being you are completely at his mercy. Nanami is the type to wake you up with his head between your legs, especially on nights where he comes home late and you’re already passed out in bed. He’ll make out with your cunt honestly, licking and sucking and nipping at your folds until he can’t tell if you’re wet from his saliva or your own arousal. The answer is both. He doesn’t care for any of the fancy shit, so don’t bother with flavored lubes or eating particular fruits to try and alter your taste, he just wants you and you alone. I feel like this man has a scent kink so the smell of your arousal honestly gets him going even more. He prefers eating you out in bed, mostly because he’s tired and nothing feels better to him than laying on his plush mattress while using your thighs as his pillow. He’s a whore for face sitting by the way, even less of his energy needs to be put into  that, especially when you’re grinding your cunt against his tongue. Nanami’s other favorite thing to do is use his tie to bind your wrists, that way you really can’t interrupt him.

Fushiguro Toji

I had to restart Toji’s so many times because I got too aggressive. Listen, this bummy ass bitch will eat you out till the sunrises and he will make a fucking mess of you while he does it. Toji will eat you out and finger fuck you until you’re screaming. He’ll give you a “break” by stuffing you full with his dick and then get back to work eating you out again after he blew his load in you. Filthy bitch. He’ll eat you out anytime, anywhere, any position. He’ll never turn down the opportunity and depending on your relationship with him, this bitch may even charge you for his services. Which is just another way he likes to tease you, watching you whine and squirm while you cough up the money he wants. He’ll call you pathetic as he gets on his knees and basically rips your underwear off of you, commenting the whole time about how much of a whore you are… like he ain’t selling his body to you rn. This man will somehow make you feel inferior, but you can’t be bothered when his tongue is lapping at your cunt like a starved man. Toji will make sure your thighs and your cunt are swollen, bruised, overstimulated, and sore by the time he’s done with you. Your cunt is puffy from his sucking and biting, thighs littered in dark marks and teeth indents. He'd go as far as to find a marker and write “cum dumpster” on you if he was really in the mood to see you sob.

Ryomen Sukuna

Listen, you thought Toji could be mean? Sukuna is ten times worse. The thing is, the king of curses actually likes to eat pussy but he won’t admit it. But that is not to say he can’t live without it, Sukuna is selfish and really only prefers things that pleasure him in the process. But, when you’re sobbing, pathetically begging him to go down on you, he may just crack. Especially if you’re looking at him with watery eyes, swollen lips from sucking him off, your neck littered with bite marks and bruises. Oh, and, if you’ve made him cum, he’s more likely to agree and indulge you. If you manage to convince the king of curses to go down on you, don’t expect him to be easy on you. His nails are digging into the flesh of your thighs, blood dripping slowly as he eats you out with so much force it’s borderline painful. He’s using his tongue and his teeth, nipping at your folds and even grazing your clit with them until he can tell your sobs are a breathless mix of pleasure and pain. If we’re talking true form Sukuna, I promise you he won’t stop until you’ve blacked out. He’ll use one set of arms to hold your waist while the other set keeps your thighs spread. He’s forcefully dragging your cunt over the long tongue that protrudes from his stomach, occasionally stopping just to hold you still as he spreads you open and stuffs you with the same tongue, watching you yelp and moan as he toys with you. 

Okkotsu Yuta

If you look up the definition of “pussy drunk” you’ll see a picture of Yuta. This man cannot go down on you without becoming delirious. Your body puts him in a trance, he can’t even explain the way you make him feel. Yuta is all about body worship and his favorite way to go about it is having his face shoved between your legs for hours. He’s just as vocal as you are while he eats you out, groaning and whining against your cunt until the vibrations are making your eyes roll back as you cum again. He’ll be kneading your thighs as he eats, squeezing them like stress balls and hitting nerves that send sparks of electricity all the way to your toes and all the way up to the base of your neck. Without even trying, Yuta will manage to overstimulate you until you’re unironically going cross-eyed, fingers twitching as they bury in his hair and try to pull him off so you can catch your breath. Yuta is still a bit shy when it comes to being intimate outside of the privacy of your home. But that doesn’t mean he won’t drag you into the nearest bathroom and eat you out against the bathroom stall. In this sense, he’s almost cocky when someone unknowingly enters the bathroom only to see two sets of feet in one of the stalls. Not to mention the noises are echoing. Yuta lives to see your eyes going wide from embarrassment as he doesn’t stop, your noises are uncontrollable as he tongue fucks you. The poor bastard who entered the bathroom with the intention of properly using it just muttered under their breath and walked out.

Itadori Yuji

Yuji is eager, so, so damn eager. He wants to do anything and everything that brings you pleasure so when it comes to eating you out, he’s determined to be great at it. Yuji is the type to ask you for “practice” or “lessons” which is just his way of indirectly asking if he can eat you out. Most of the time, it’s an offer you can’t refuse, because as fate would have it, Yuji isn’t bad at anything. He’s so praise focused, eyes glued to your face as he flicks his tongue along your folds and waits for you to tell him he’s doing good. He’ll slow down when your praise isn’t coming fast enough because he wants you to beg. Yuji is a sucker for adding fingers to the mix, as much as he loves making you cum with just his tongue, he sees no point in limiting your pleasure for his own confidence boost. Kind of contradictory since he likes when you beg. Yuji is also the type to wake you up with his head between your legs, just slowly lapping at your cunt while also rutting his hips into the mattress, trying to not wake you up until you’re coming. He finds it so pretty when you wake up gasping, completely unable to restrict any of your noises as you orgasm. It’s important to mention that Yuji is a sucker for 69-ing and face sitting, he loves, loves, feeling your plush thighs caging in his head. He can’t get enough of the way your body settles so nicely into him, no longer afraid of “suffocating him” by sitting all the way down on him.

Fushiguro Megumi

He won’t admit it but he loves to eat you out. Megumi is shy at heart so even if he’s been with you for years, he can still get embarrassed when telling you how badly he wants to go down on you. He’s focused when he does get between your legs, hands gripping your thighs or hips while his tongue laps greedily at your cunt. Megumi loves to tongue fuck you, just because he knows it’s not enough stimulation to make you cum but enough to make you embarrassingly wet. He’s a bit mean at first, not willing to let you come until he feels you’ve earned it. He’ll stop abruptly just to sink his teeth into your inner thighs, not stopping until you’re gasping as the pain turns bruising. He’ll admire the teeth indents he’s left on your skin while his nails are scratching down your other thigh, tongue moving to wiggle against your clit until your hips are bucking. Megumi finds toys to be very hit or miss, but he’s found a love for stuffing you with a vibrator while putting all of his attention on your clit. Megumi’s preferred method of “torture” depends on his mood, either he’ll edge you until you’re begging or overstimulate you until you’re crying. He’s very private when it comes to these things… unless he’s jealous. Much like Yuta, he will not hesitate to drag you somewhere private while out in public to remind you of who you belong to. 

[vaquerolvr]

Road trip! Reader is Passenger Princess (due to them giving their man a heart attack everytime they drive 😊)

i am Still Suffering on my road trip. god save me. i wrote this in my notes app while stuck in traffic for three hours. the formatting and spelling are in the hands of Our Merciful Lord (tumblr)

price

refuses to let anyone else drive unless he’s on the verge of passing out

(probably the only one you can trust to drive tbh)

does the dad thing where he’ll stick out his hand to get some of your snacks

hates stopping for any reason, wants to get to the destination as quickly as possible

when he does get forced to take a break, he’s very upset about it

backseat driver, stresses everyone out

(gaz is tempted to tape his mouth shut)

claims he “isn’t tired” and “can keep going” but is the first one to pass out when you stop at a hotel

gaz

passenger princess

if you try to get him to drive he’ll pretend to be sleepy

in charge of the music

(not because everyone likes his music but because he fought soap for the right)

hogs the phone charger

calls shotgun and will fistfight anyone he tries to take it from him

(he’ll let you have it if you want but he’ll be pouty about it)

ghost

another passenger princess (because no one trusts his driving)

the single time he’s allowed to drive, he nearly causes an accident ten minutes in

weakest bladder known to man

forces you to stop every hour

passes out after the first hour of driving

soap wakes him up when his snoring gets too loud and it causes another bout of smacking each other

takes photos of anything cool he spots on the road

(they all come out blurry but it’s the thought that counts)

soap

the only other one that price trusts to drive

decent driver, just has road rage at times

begs gaz to let him change the music (gaz always says no)

points out the scenery constantly

“look, there’s cows!”

collects souvenirs from every gas station you stop at

plays road trip games (i spy, slug bug/punch buggy/whatever you call it)

he and ghost get in trouble when it devolves into them just hitting each other

has a stash of snacks and drinks that he’ll share if you ask nicely

is awake and yapping the entire drive

(gaz actually does tape his mouth shut)

alejandro

the exact opposite of price

likes to take his time and relax

will somehow turn a 10 hour drive into 15 hours

wants to stop at every roadside attraction he sees

you have to keep reminding him that you have somewhere to be or he’ll get lost on a side quest

souvenir guy, buys magnets and keychains

has cds that he likes to listen to

very chill but you might get stressed if you’re on a deadline

is insistent on being the driver but gets traumatized when he runs over a squirrel

“ale, it wasn’t your fault. it was dark, you couldn’t see-“

“I’M A MURDERER”

rudy

probably the best person to plan a road trip with

isn’t a maniac like price but isn’t as laidback as alejandro

likes to listen to random radio stations as he drives

is really bad about speeding

regularly goes at least 15-20 over the speed limit but is lucky enough to never get pulled over

uses road trips as an excuse to only eat junk food then regrets it when his stomach starts hurting

needs a day or two to recover afterwards because his back hurts from sitting for so long

graves

scarily organized

has an itinerary and follows it to the letter

wouldn’t let you drive even if you begged

if he gets tired he’ll just get one of the shadows to take over

honestly, most of the trip consists of the shadows entertaining you with their antics while graves drives

one of them gets left behind at a gas station and you have to drive back half an hour to pick him up. graves is pissed

makarov

do NOT try to take this man on a road trip

if you mention it, he’ll have plane tickets booked before you can even blink

cannot handle long drives, the most he can manage is an hour before he starts getting annoyed

keegan

the most stressful but also the most entertaining

demands control of the music but plays the weirdest shit

not the best driver but not the worst

he won’t crash at least and he’ll only get pulled over a few times

says the most out of pocket shit to get a reaction from you

“how long do you think i can drive with my eyes closed?”

“KEEGAN NO-“

keegan has been banished to the passenger’s seat.

nikolai

another guy who is good at road trips

great driver, you can sleep the whole ride and he won’t gaf

it’s kind of terrifying. you’ll wake up from another nap to find him staring dead-eyed at the road as he drives

secretly shoplifts something from every place you stop at

doesn’t admit it until you accidentally find his stash hidden in one of the bags

“solnishko, you must understand. i need it.”

“you do not need a keychain of a frog with a cowboy hat, nik!”

nikolai is now wanted for theft in every US state (and several countries)

[giddyfatherchris]

At your mercy

pairing. han jisung x afab!reader

type. requested

warnings. 18+ minors and ageless blogs DNI. suggestive, we get to see more of dom han👀, curse words

words. ~2k

a/n. thank you to my angel @solisyeah for this request i hope you’ll like it!! also, dom han lives rent free in my head:) and this fic is a continuation of han’s part in this text fic we made in collab

a/n2. the first time i wrote this it was kinda really frickin toxic and I'm sorry but I just couldn't. being in a dom relationship does NOT EQUAL that toxic behaviors are okay. boundaries are important people! and what can I say I'm a whore for ppl who respect them:) hope you enjoy xxx

You're so flushed when you head out of the lunch room that you want to crawl under the earth's crust, as opposed to your boyfriend walking out like he owns the world. He's cocky and particularly satisfied when he notices Seungmin trying to avoid at all cost to lock eyes with you or him. You try to get rid of the aura of sex surrounding you and decide to sit near Felix while Hannie gets back to the recording booth as if nothing happened. He gives you a cocky wink, but you quickly advert your eyes, feeling your cheeks heat up with fire once more. You're determined to move on, so you focus on your friend to notice Felix really looks down in the dumps. "Hey, you okay?" you ask while nudging his shoulder. 

The blonde boy lets out a heavy sigh, "Not really. Management has been really tough on us these past few weeks. Our schedules keep multiplying, I'm tired and miss my family. I feel like I can't breathe." His eyes fill with tears, breaking your heart in two. Even if Felix is known for being easily moved, he isn't the type to start crying like this in the middle of a room. You gently stroke your hand down his back to comfort him. "Can I do anything to help? I'm so sorry you're going through this. You should have told me earlier instead of enduring this all alone." 

He quickly wipes his tears away before anyone notices and whispers. "Can I have a hug?"

You immediately wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer to your body. You won't pull away from this hug before he does. From the way he clings to you, you know he needs this. Suddenly, he pulls you on his lap to lay his head better in the crook of your neck. You don't mind the physical touch, Felix and the other boys had always been a touchy bunch, so you kept stroking his soft hair, shushing sweet nothings to console him. 

What you don't notice is your boyfriend's piercing death stare from across the recording booth as he stares at the way his member's head is lying on your skin, how tightly you hold him and how you are sitting on his goddamn lap. Felix and you are in a bubble of your own, lost in your little world when you hear a familiar ping from your phone. Without letting go, you reach out for your device, your eyes turning round as saucers as you notice the texts coming from your boyfriend. They keep popping up on the screen in a raging litany. They come so fast that you barely have the time to read them all.

One second you're hugging your friend the next a firm grip is roughly pulling you off his lap. You lift surprised eyes to see a fuming Jisung. His gaze is set on his junior with an aggressive spark. Everyone stares in silence at the scene, shocked to see such a demeanor coming from one of the most peaceful members.

"It's time for Y/n to go. They have things to do." 

You can barely mutter a confused 'what?' when he grabs your things, shoves them in your hands, gives you a quick kiss on the cheek, and pushes you out of the room. The door behind you closes in a slam, leaving you alone, feeling on your back the baffled gaze of the other boys through the glass.

"Ji, what the" you barely hear Bang Chan start, but he's quickly shut down by the boy's poisonous tone. You don't know what he said, but from the way Chan's mouth is hanging out open, it was not good. You watch your boyfriend head to the booth, put back on his headphones, and resume his verse like nothing happened for the second time today. 

You head home completely enraged with his behavior. You never minded his dominant side. In fact, you loved it, but today was too much. The first thing with Seungmin was hot, even if it had raised warning signs in your brain. The way he kept it going with Felix was something else. He crossed a limit you couldn't tolerate.

When he gets home hours later, he's back to being his cute usual self. He babbles about his day while you stare silently at him from your seat at the table.

After a while, he notices you haven't said a word since he got home. He finally turns to you with questions in his big eyes. "Is everything okay, sweetheart?"

You stare back with flames in yours. You're basically breathing fire. "I don't know Ji. Are you okay? I don't know what was up with you today, but I don't want you to do something like that ever again. There's a difference between being dominant and being an asshole. Felix is one of my best friends and one of yours too. He really wasn't feeling well. You know I would never ever leave or cheat on you. He just needed comfort. I will not allow you to throw me around like a rag doll and act like that towards me or your friends."

His soft expression vanishes with your words. Suddenly, he looks like he's burning from the inside too. "Their hands were all over you today." 

"Their?" you furrow your brows in question. "What are you even talking about?"

"First, Seungmin pushes you, bruises you, and then keeps touching you while he apologizes. Then Felix whines and brings you on his lap. I don't get why they think it's okay for them to touch you like that." His hands tighten in fists while you stare at him in disbelief.

"What happened with Seungmin was an accident, and he was just APOLOGIZING! Felix was sad and needed a hug. We've always been like this. I don't know what's your problem, but you better figure it out."

His gaze zeroes on you, and he's fuming at this point. "My problem is that you are mine. No one else gets to touch you like that. Only I get to leave marks on your body. Only I get to have you writhing on my lap. Only me. I don't get why you don't understand that. I don't get why you're being such a brat right now."

"That's not what this is about. You being dominant and possessive in our private life is something. Having you push me out of a room and throw fits because our friends touched me in a platonic way is another. I'm not some object you can control to your will. If I decide to hug my friend for 30 fucking minutes because he needs it, it's no one else's business. Especially not you. I've had my fair share of experiences with toxic pricks. I need to make sure this is not happening again." 

Pleasure and toxic conduct are two different things. You won't let him get away with this behavior. Even if the tension in the room, the look he keeps giving you, and the way his eyes burn make you want to let him do anything he wants with you, you won't avert your gaze. You have a point to make, and won't shy away from it. 

You start to get nervous when he stays silent, but the way the fire in his eyes slightly dims makes you breathe a little easier. He walks up to you, and you keep your chin up, not showing one inch of weakness. He stops unbearably close, he's not touching you but every inch of your skin feels on fire by his simple proximity. "Listen," he starts in an ushed voice. "I'm sorry about today. I didn't want to make you feel like I was trying to control you. I respect you, and I would never want to make you feel like that. I want you to know I also apologized to Felix and Chan for my attitude. I know it wasn't okay. You just have this way of making me go absolutely berserk." You let go of a breath you didn't know you were holding, relief flooding your blood. "I think I got a little too carried away. I love feeling like you are mine and only mine. And after our little... adventure in the lunchroom, I think my brain was a little fogged up." Your cheeks flush at the mention of what you did. Phantom sensations of his fingers inside of you make shivers run down your spine. "Still, it wasn't okay for me to act the way I did. I truly apologize." His eyes connect with yours, and you only see soft and caring love in his dark orbs, even a hint of shame for the behavior he displayed. 

You feel your fears vanish into nothingness, "I appreciate your apologies, and I'm glad you apologized to the boys. They didn't deserve this. I love what we have going together, but I needed to make clear that I won't tolerate being used or treated like an object." He shakes his head with a nod. You can see he is taking everything you're telling him very seriously. "And I want you to know that I agree. Nobody else should touch me the way you did in that lunchroom earlier," you add with a tempting smile. "I am yours and only yours. Heart, body, mind, and soul." Your breath comes out in small puffs as you look at his plush lips.

"You are?" His own gaze keeps traveling from your eyes to your lips with a dizzying hunger. 

"I am completely at your mercy."

Your eyes lock one last time before he tilts the chair up and it hits the wall with a small thud. His hands are caging you while his lips smash against yours. The kiss he gives you makes your head spin and your pulse accelerate. The way his tongue slips against your own makes you moan in seconds. As suddenly as it started, the kiss ended. You open hazy eyes, a question on your lips, but one of his hands softly wraps around your throat while his feverish gaze burns through your skull. 

"You're my little plaything, aren't you? Just one kiss and you're already panting so much sugar." His eyes are basically undressing you. You feel his hand slip up your thigh to the center of your desire. You're whimpering before his fingers even reach your clothed core. He presses three digits on it once, making you melt on the chair under you. You're waiting for more, you need more but he's not making any further motion. He's looking at you like a predator ready to pounce on his prey and you feel your insides burn like molten fire. You know what he's waiting for. You know what you both need to hear to break past this tension point. 

You lean so close to him you feel his breath fan over your lips, and you're only staring at them when you utter your next words. "I'm a little plaything who needs to be reminded who they belong to."

It's all your boyfriend needs to dive back like a tidal wave, unleashing all the tension accumulated. In a second, your clothes are torn off your body. Soon, your legs are up in the air, your hands gripping his soft curls, and all you can feel is his hot mouth attached to your core as he feeds on you like a starved man.

[miguelhugger2099]

Omg first off LOVE!!! your wiring literally *chef’s kiss* imagine Miguel x reader suggestive smut where they’ve been both super busy and haven’t had time for each other and tension has been building up to this point.

Worth the Wait

nonie im gonna sob. not only was i so excited to see you be my first ask, this is also my first ever written smut!! aaaa im so nervous so please have mercy !! i jumped on my laptop as soon as i saw this and its so late right now haha im a little tired but i didnt want you to wait at all !! im not sure if i wrote too much or too little lol regardless i really hope you enjoy and if not i'm more than happy to make something else and thank you sososo much for the compliment <3333 the ask wasnt specified if it was fem!reader or not so i made it gn!reader just in case <3 Miguel x GN!Reader, Smut, too embarrassed to proofread it, Word Count: 3,681

“Hey, Miguel, do you think you could stay late tonight? Boss wants you in the lab for testing.” A short woman popped her head in his room, her hair neatly tucked in a high bun. Miguel stopped his pacing in his office, his glasses lifted on his head using it as a headband to pull back his fringe. He placed the beakers in his hands down and took off his gloves while ruby eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. He was supposed to leave in a couple minutes.

Miguel’s eyebrows scrunched up, tsking under his breath and turning to look at the woman. “Can’t someone else be there? Peter can oversee it instead.” He pleaded, exasperated. She gave him a sympathetic look and sighed.

“Sorry, Miguel. He specifically asked for you.” Not wanting to be the bearer of bad news anymore, she slipped out the door and shut it behind her, leaving Miguel to groan and slump his shoulders. He stared up at the ceiling and closed his eyes, breathing in and out to calm his anger. It seemed like these days all he ever did was overtime at work. He fiddled with the golden band around his left ring finger, his other hand twirling it mindlessly for some comfort and also a silent apology to you.

His heart ached as he made his way to his desk, picking up his phone and dialing your number. He licked his lips while he brought the phone up to his ear. Miguel wasn’t prepared to hear your voice, happy and hopeful and only be met with disappointment.

“Miggy?” You answer happily. A small smile forms on Miguel’s face.

“H-hey, baby. You doing alright?” He asked, taking a seat on his swivel chair and leaning back to stare at the photo of you two on his desktop.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m finishing up dinner. Are you on your way home?”

Miguel’s smile dropped a bit, realizing once more why he had called in the first place. “Um, about that, mi corazón. I have to–”

“You have to stay the night, don’t you?” You cut him off, disappointment evident in your voice. Miguel’s heart clenched at the sound.

“I…I do. Believe me, I don’t have a choice or I’d be there in a heartbeat.”

“It’s okay, really. I’m not mad or anything. This month has been hectic for both of us. I just… I just miss you is all.” You speak softly over the phone. He missed you more. He wanted to be there.

“Lo siento, bebé. You know how much I hate being away from you.” He apologized. “How about tomorrow, huh? I have off. We can go out and get a drink. Or maybe stay home? I know how much you love my cooking.” He offered, his heart beating faster at the thought of spending time with you again. That feeling sank when he heard you let out a quick puff of air in annoyance.

“I can’t. I’m working this weekend. Six days in a row,” You rolled your eyes just thinking about it. Your job always had a way of pushing your buttons. Miguel’s jaw clenched as he heard you. Miguel never really liked this recent event of work taking up his time from seeing you. He hated it even more when your job took you away from him. “God, I really thought we’d have tonight together at least.”

Miguel was quick to reassure you. “Hey, hey. Listen. We’ll have a day together. Eventually there’ll be a day for just us–all about us, I promise.”

When Miguel had arrived home, it could barely be even classified as night time with the way the sun had been peeking through the horizon. He dragged his body through the door, a cold home awaiting him. After kicking off his shoes, he dumped his coat and bag on the floor and made his way to the kitchen, eating the leftovers of the dinner you two were supposed to eat together before trudging back to bed. He saw you lying there on your side and he felt exhaustion drag him down.

Miguel slipped in under the covers beside you after striping himself of his clothes, leaving him in his underwear and slipped his arm around you. He pressed your body flushed against his, Miguel’s larger body enveloping yours protectively. His nose buried itself in your neck, his lips grazing your shoulder. His hand rubbed your stomach and then slid up to rub up and down your waist. Sneakily, he ran his hand under your shirt while his lips left small kisses on your neck and shoulder. You stirred awake as you felt the sudden touch of someone else.

Miguel felt you move so he pulled you tighter to him, keeping you caged in that position. “Mig…?” You called out sleepily. You felt something poke you from behind and groaned. Miguel continued to kiss your neck, his teeth coming out to gently nip at the skin making you shiver. He simply hummed his response.

“‘M home.” He murmured. He slowly turned you on your back, towering over you slightly with your leg between his. Miguel’s arm rested by your head while his attacks became more intimate. You leaned your head back, allowing him more access and his other hand on your hip squeezed you in appreciation. You bent your leg up on the bed slightly, your knee caressing his growing bulge in his boxers. Miguel let out a low groan, his hips grinding on you for some friction.

Your hands finally reached up to his hair, curling your fingers around his soft wavy brown locks. Miguel took this as an opportunity to capture your lips with his, muting the soft moans you were letting out. His own knee spread your legs apart, rubbing in between them to add to your pleasure. You felt a jolt of pleasure run down your spine, bucking your hips up instinctively. Miguel sighed against you, his hand on that had been gripping your hip, moved down to the hem of your pajama pants. He teasingly pulled it down, letting it snap back to your body and making you whine. You felt him grin through your kiss. Cheeky bastard.

Before he could ease his hand down your pants, your alarm had blared through the room, shocking the both of you and separating yourselves off each other. Miguel scowled while you clambered up to grab your phone. “The hell was that?” He grunted, displeased with being interrupted. You fumbled with turning it off, placing a hand on your chest to calm your fast beating heart.

“My alarm. I have a morning shift.” You moaned, tossing your phone back on the counter and standing up from the bed. Miguel blinked twice before getting up with you. He reached out his hand to grab yours in an attempt to stop you.

“Woah, woah, hey–what’s the rush?” He asked, turning you around and cupping your cheek. “We can at least have these couple minutes, can’t we?” His voice dropped an octave, leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek. Miguel tried to kiss downwards but you stopped him, albeit unwillingly.

“Amor, you know damn well how Nueva York’s traffic is in the morning. I’m not gonna be late and get my ass in trouble ‘cause you can’t keep it in your pants.” You slipped from his arms with a playful roll of your eyes and walked to the kitchen. Miguel scoffed, slightly offended, his eyes watching you walk away and looking down at your ass.

“Don’t act like you weren’t enjoying it.” He grumbled, looking down at the tent in his boxers wondering what to do with it now.

For the next week, it had been nothing but just pure torture. With the month making you and Miguel work away from each other, this week was stretching that limit. When Miguel worked in the morning, you’d work at night and vice versa. Each time without fail, you managed to slip in a few teasing touches. Waking up Miguel by sitting on his lap and peppering kisses on his cheeks with his hands grinding your hips down on his hardening cock. Miguel cupping your ass and giving it a squeeze when you came home from work while he was on his way out. Both of you were on the brink of breaking by this point. These small acts were supposed to tame the fire within you, not burn it brighter.

Eventually, it was finally your day off after a long weekend. A break from customer service and passing out as soon as you got home. Miguel had work today but he texted earlier that he’d get off on the hour he was supposed to this time around. You felt bad. He’d been working so hard and today had been no different. He took a shift earlier than usual so he could come home earlier without anyone being there to suddenly ask for him to stay. Lord knows he’s pushing those forty hours into overtime.

From the bedroom, you heard the door open, keys jingling as it was turned to unlock it. You got up from the bed and peered out the door, seeing Miguel kicking off his shoes and coat while tossing his bag carelessly on the living room chair. “Welcome home.” You greeted him. He dragged his feet closer to you with his head down, the top buttons on his white button up were popped open, exposing a glimpse of his collarbone. Miguel immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you in for a comforting hug. You followed suit, hugging him back since you sensed he probably had a rough day. He hummed in response, settling for resting his chin on your head. You stayed like that for a while just holding one another until you felt his hand run under your shirt to feel your soft skin against his calloused hands. They continued up and up your spine until your shirt was lifting up with him. “Miguel.”

“What?” He grumbled. One hand slid down under your pants, getting a quick feel of your ass and pulling your pelvis to him. You gasped and tightened your hold around him, feeling the warmth of arousal ignite in your stomach. “I need to have you. I can’t wait any longer.” His soft touching became more possessive, roughly grabbing your ass and tugging on your shirt and pants.

“Miguel.” You repeated his name, this time in a whimper. Your own hands slipped down his collared shirt and lightly scratched your nails on his large back which made him shiver. He pulled back and you saw his eyes hazed with desire, pupils blown wide.

“Please…” He whispered, his lips brushing up against yours. Your hands fell to his buttoned shirt as you looked up at him. Your heart raced in your chest–the sheer want of having you all to himself finally after weeks was too good to pass up. You nodded and the pleading look on Miguel’s face dropped as he immediately bent down to kiss you. You let out a squeak of surprise between his lips right before giving into his needs and kissing him back.

He tugged your pants down to your ankles before lifting you out of the puddle of clothes and bringing you to the bed. Once you were laid on top, you watched Miguel fumble with his belt. His large hands quickly unhooked the metal making it chime and the soft zipping sound of the leather sliding out his belt loops. He practically ripped himself free from his clothes, not even unbuttoning his shirt and just lifted it up and off his torso. You saw his girthy length, standing tall and proud with a slight red color tinged at his tip while the rest of him was a slighter darker color than his skin. His tip was already oozing with precum. A sight you had always welcomed. It became clear to you that Miguel had been thinking about this for a while–maybe all day. Miguel crawled on top of you, helping you out of your shirt and underwear and kissing you again while his hands roamed your body.

“I’ve waited so long. Did you miss me like how I missed you, cariño?” He sighed between your lips. Your hands clutched his shoulders, one leg hooking around his waist.

“Always.” You whimpered back.

“On your knees. Now.” He growled. You felt your heart skip a beat, another heartbeat going straight to your core. Stumbling, you got off your back and got on your hands and knees like Miguel wanted. This position has always made you flustered. It was both embarrassing and exhilarating not seeing what Miguel could do to you, or even get to put your hands on him–solely relying on feeling.

Perfect timing, his hands met your ass, grabbing them and massaging them. “So perfect,” He murmured. His finger grazed your aching hole where you were the most sensitive, purposefully teasing the nerves on your body. He took pleasure in the way you writhed beneath him, succumbing to his hand. His thick cock rubbed up against you, smearing his leaking fluid on you for even better access. Then ever so slowly, gliding in his fat weeping tip inside and penetrating your walls.

You both moaned in unison. The feeling of being stuffed was like finally feeling that last puzzle piece snap in place. “Uff, fuck–I’ve missed you,” He groaned, his breath shaking as he leaned over your body. His one hand held the headboard in front of him while his other hand held the plushness of your hip tightly. Miguel’s body was shaking as he entered you slowly, stretching you out after a long time of not seeing each other like this. You whimpered, falling from your hands onto your elbows as you shook with him. “Ease up, cariño, así es.” He praised, leaning back to watch his cock disappear inside you. His pride swelled at how easily he seemed to slide in you even after so long, his mouth curling into a sly smirk.

“Mi–guel…” You choked out a moan. You whined and gripped the pillow underneath your head tightly in your fists. You had forgotten just how huge Miguel was, his covered bulge was nothing compared to the real thing. Panting, you heard your heartbeat in your ears, turning your head to rest your cheek on the pillow.

Miguel’s hand left the headboard by this point, choosing instead to rest on your back, running down the curve of your spine to press your head down. You whimpered and clenched around him which made him let out a string of curses under his breath. You felt him push himself to the hilt, his balls gently smacking against the curve of your ass. He groaned, his hand on your head gripped your hair to still himself from pounding you immediately. The two of you stood there, breathing heavily while you felt each other. You could feel him throbbing inside you, twitching ever so softly. Miguel bit his lip to hinder himself from cumming on the spot with your walls convulsing around him, weakly attempting to suck him in deeper.

You wiggled your hips, bucking them back against Miguel with a pathetic whine. “M-move…plea–” You got cut off when Miguel slipped out of you, and then he slammed back inside making you scream and shake. He then began a steady pace, enough for movement but not as quick as you wanted. Still, you mewled and clutched at the sheets while his cock was ravaging your guts. The hand on your hip wrapped around your lower stomach, his bicep flexing as he held your weight up to fuck your from behind.

“Too long. It’s been too fucking long since I’ve fucked this needy hole properly.” Miguel sighed, huffing with each thrust of his hips. Your eyes rolled back and your jaw slacked open. Skin slapping echoed in the room along with the wet smack of sweat between your bodies. It was a symphony of lust and desire. An aching instinct to be reunited like this. You pleaded for more–a little quicker, a little harder– and Miguel who loved you so much didn’t want to deny either of you this ecstasy. He then used both hands to grab onto your hips and started to drag your body back and forth on his dick, drilling himself in you like a toy. Miguel used up all his frustrations of not being able to see you all this time, his eyes drinking in your writhing form while he bucked into you abandonly.

“Yes! Yes! Fuck–Miguel…!” You squealed, involuntarily squeezing him which made me grunt and buck his hips faster. You babbled nonsense while your core bubbled up the feeling of an orgasm. You screwed your eyes shut as you allowed Miguel to hump against you. He leaned over you again, pressing kisses on your back, murmuring things you could barely hear over the sound of your own moans.

Suddenly, Miguel had pulled out again leaving you feeling empty and light headed while the feeling of an impending orgasm disappeared. He let go of you, your hips bouncing on the bed without the support of his strength holding you up. You opened up your eyes, glazed with pleasure and shakily tried to look behind you. Before you could, Miguel took your body and flipped you on your back. It all happened quickly before you could even register what was happening. He took your legs and tugged your body closer to him like a ragdoll. He spread them wide then pressed them up against your chest. You lolled your head up and you saw his fringe had fallen to his forehead, sticking to it with his sweat. His chest was heaving up and down, the glow of the moonlight highlighting the carvings of his muscles perfectly–it made your breath hitch.

Miguel then loomed over you, nuzzling his head into your neck again. You leaned your head to the side making him gain more access to you. His teeth bit your soft flesh, his lips suckling your skin to leave tiny bruises along the side. “Ah–” You squirmed and gasped when you felt Miguel slide back into you again. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, your hand running through his already messy hair. You pressed his head closer, your eyes opening up hazily to stare at the ceiling while Miguel starts his pace again.

“So tight, just f’me, hm? You have no idea how much–” He moaned in between speaking, the lust clouding his mind. “H-how much I needed you. I should’ve just brought you to work, bend you over my desk and fuck you however long I want,” He shuddered at the thought, his hips stuttering while you whimpered and arched your back off the bed. “Oh, you like that?” He grinned, his voice oozing with arrogance. You nodded, your eyes shutting closed again and desperately lifting your hips to match his thrusting.

“Next time, bebé, next time. I promise. You’re doing so, so, good. You feel so good.” He slurred softly, his hips snapped harder, his cock twitching and swelling inside you.

“Mig–Mig–I can’t,” You moaned, your screams getting louder the harder Miguel went. “Oh, god, Miguel!” Miguel kissed you, swallowing all your moans while he slipped his tongue in your mouth. Your eyes rolled back and your legs wrapped around his waist the moment he let go of your thighs. His hands traveled around your body, feeling the shape of your silhouette back into his memory. He grabbed at anything he could hold onto before curling around your ass for a small squeeze.

He pulled away from the kiss, breaths mingling for a moment until Miguel rested his forehead on your shoulder. Your hands raked down his back and you dug your nails into his giant back, leaving streaks of red in their wake from scratching him. He moaned from it–the pain only adding to his pleasure-fueled mind. Miguel peppered kisses on your shoulder, making his way down to your chest.

“Miguel, I’m so close–so, so close…” You whimpered.

“I know, ángel, me… me too. Solo enfocate en mí, hm? Just let me have you.” He pleaded, his rough moans turning into whimpering as he neared his end. You responded with a weak ‘uh-huh’ then clinging onto Miguel for support.

He murmured in a jumble of Spanish and English, his breath hot on your neck while you screamed and pleaded for more, how good it felt, anything to get both of you going. Miguel lifted your lower half up, relentlessly pounding into you while he cursed lowly, burying his head in your shoulder again. You felt the bubble in your abdomen about to snap.

“Miguel, I–!” You tried warning him but instead the waves of your orgasm flooded your body, cumming on Miguel and making a mess between your legs. You twitched around him, milking his cock for all it’s worth. Your legs shook until you went limp, fucked out of your mind. Miguel whined, speeding up to catch his own release.

“Fuck–!” He moaned, feeling his cock pump out his creamy fat load inside you, painting your walls white. Miguel’s entire body tensed up, stilling up against you while he slowly came down from the high. His strokes gradually slowed down, pumping the final ropes of cum, while he softened inside you, huffing and puffing with you. He shakily but carefully pulled out of you after a few moments. You whimpered when he completely left you with a soft wet shlick.

Miguel fell beside you, exhausted and spent. Still, he reached for you, bringing your shivering body in his arms. You curled yourself in his chest weakly, feeling his hand play with your hair. He kissed your forehead, basking in each other's afterglow. He brought the covers up over you two for some extra warmth.

“I’ll…get us cleaned up in the morning…” He huffed with a tired smile. You grunted in response, too numb to speak but satisfied nonetheless.

can you tell this is my first smut? hahaaaa dontanswerthatillcry

[cressidagrey]

The moment I could see it - Part 2

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)

Summary: 5 Times that Gianpiero Lambiase thinks that Ariel Cane and Max Verstappen are weirdly similar…and 1 time he is just happy that the two of them are no longer pining after each other. 

Warnings: 

GP's POV, mention of cancer, mention of parent's death

Author Notes: I am back to my old tricks...which means I write from the most random of POV's just because. (I once wrote a chapter from a dog's POV so like, GP doesn't even really count.

About 3 months later, GP once again returned home from Race Weekend. 

This time for good. Abu Dhabi had gone off well enough, Kvyat ending with a respectable 9th place... and Max Verstappen had ended up with enough penalty points on his special license that he was just 4 points away from a one race ban.

GP shook his head in weary disapproval as he thought of the young driver’s antics. Max really seemed to have no sense of when to stop. 

Still, GP had some sympathy. Driving at that level was a high-pressure experience, and Max was still so young.

Well, he wasn’t GP’s problem. Thank god for small mercies…

Though that gritty determination and bravery bordering on stupidity… well, that was something that GP both admired and dreaded. 

But…F1 was finished for the year, and he got to go home for christmas. So he would also get to ban all thoughts of Max Verstappen from his brain for the foreseeable future. 

It wasn’t a very christmas-sy sight that greeted him as he turned his car into their street though. 

Instead it was a hearse.  

 Parked right across their neighbour’s house. 

In front of the house with the red front door. 

In the three months since he had first met the Cane Family, Laura and him had indeed taken up Ariel on her offer to babysit twice. Both times Franny had been more than happy with her caretaker for the evening. 

There also had been an ambulance at the house twice, once ending in a two week hospital stint for Paul Cane, as Laura had told him over the phone while GP had been in Singapore and Japan…

And now there was a hearse.

Immediately the fatigue of the weekend's race and travel seemed to vanish, replaced by a sudden sense of dread.

He parked and then climbed out of his car, his stomach in knots, and quickly crossed the street to his own house.

He walked up his front steps, forcing himself to take deep, slow breaths. He wasn't going to jump to conclusions. Not yet.

"Honey, I am home!" he called out for Laura. He found his wife in the living room, cuddling a sleeping Francesca. But she wasn't alone.

Emma was sitting on the couch, legs pulled up to her chest, staring emptily in front of her. 

"Hey," Laura greeted him, a forced smile on her face, putting Franny down, as she came to hug him.

"Their father died this afternoon," she whispered. "Ariel dropped her off, so that she could deal with the..."

Laura didn’t need to say anything more.  GP wrapped his arms around Laura, pulling her close. 

"How is she?" he asked quietly, his eyes flicking to the girl sitting almost in a daze on the couch.

“How would you be if your only remaining parent died?” Laura gave back softly. 

"Ariel?" he whispered. 

Laura shrugged. “I think she is handling this with more maturity than an adult twice her age would,” she said quietly. “I offered to take Emma off her hands for the night, get her out of the house…”

GP smiled sadly at his wife. It was typical of her to be so generous. Despite the fact they had their own baby to look after, she wasn't about to leave the thirteen-year-old alone.

He looked back at Emma, who was still sitting on the couch, looking small and lost. It made his heart ache.

"Ariel refused. Said their older brother is on his way as well," Laura said quietly. "But he seemed...pretty much useless, to be honest."

GP felt a flash of anger at her words. Useless? How could their brother, a grown man, be useless in such a time of need?

He forced himself to take a steadying breath, reminding himself that he didn't know the details. It wasn't for him to judge.

"What do you mean, useless?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm. He cast a glance at Emma again. 

His wife sighed, looking rather frustrated. "He just...he just doesn't seem to be able to deal with any of this," she said, her voice low. "Ariel basically has to walk him through how to actually get here..."

Gianpiero shook his head, his respect for Ariel growing even more. She was already dealing with so much, yet she had to handle her brother as well? 

"She's got enough on her plate already," he muttered, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Laura laid a hand on his arm, giving it a slight squeeze. "I know," she said. "But she's doing all she can to keep things together."

He looked over at Emma again, sitting so quietly on the sofa. She was just a child, watching everyone around her fall apart. It was all so wrong.

GP took a deep breath, trying to push down the feeling of powerlessness. "When will her brother get here?" he asked his wife, struggling to keep his voice neutral.

"He said he'll be here within the hour," Laura replied quietly, her expression one of concern. "I can start dinner for everyone..."

GP nodded, knowing that his wife was trying to do whatever she could to help. But as he watched Emma sit on the couch, still looking so lost, he couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness.

He walked over and sat down next to her, careful not to crowd her. For a moment, he just sat there in silence, not sure what to say.

He stared at his own daughter, asleep and content…once Franny was asleep, nearly nothing was going to wake her up again. 

Emma didn't say anything, just continued to stare out into space. Her eyes were dry, but her face was pale and stricken.

"Hey Kiddo..." he said softly, trying to draw her attention.

She turned her head slightly, casting him a quick glance before returning her gaze to the distance.

He continued in a gentle voice, "How are you holding up?"

Emma didn't respond, just pressed her lips together tightly, but the way her chin trembled betrayed her effort not to cry.

He had no idea what to say to her. What could he possibly say to comfort a child who just lost her father? Nothing, really.

"I remember when Mom died," Emma said suddenly. GP started slightly at the unexpected words. Hearing her bring up her mother's death so suddenly was a bit of a surprise.

But he quickly composed himself, keeping his own voice soft. "You do?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," Emma said simply. "Ariel was as old as I am now. I was 8. She took care of us. Dad was useless. But Ariel took care of us. Just like she takes care of everything now."

Gianpiero felt a pang of sadness. Emma was so matter-of-fact about her sister taking charge of the family, as if it was an expected outcome. 

"Percy dissappeared afterwards. Left us alone," Emma continue weakly. "I don't think he wanted to be around us anymore."

Gianpiero felt his heart break a little at her words. "Why do you think that?" he asked gently. 

"He went off to university.." Emma said softly. “Doesn’t come home until it’s christmas anymore. Some people say he's some kind of genius," she said with a roll of her eyes. 

Gianpiero was taken aback by the scoff in her voice. It seemed like Emma had an opinion about her brother.

"You don't agree?" he asked curiously, keeping his voice gentle.

"Yeah well...I guess he's smart and all that," Emma said sullenly. "Good with numbers. Bad with people."

GP could hear the distaste in her voice. It seemed like there was some resentment there, towards her older brother.

“He just left us. Like we didn’t matter.”

He was tempted to ask her more about it, but the sound of a car starting pulled his attention...and then Emma was up from the couch, sprinting outside. 

He followed after her, after a glance to Laura. 

The hearse was pulling out onto the street. 

By the time he was outside, Emma had already collided with Ariel on the sidewalk. 

GP felt his heart ache as he watched the two girls hug, Emma clinging to her older sister as if her life depended on it.

Ariel hugged her back, her mouth set in firm line, as she watched the hearse carry their father's body away.

GP didn’t want to watch this. He felt like the worst kind of voyeur to see this…to bear witness to this moment, where he could see their grief laid bare like this…

And still he was rooted in a spot watching… He felt an odd sense of awe watching the girls. They were so young, so vulnerable, and yet so strong.

Ariel was clearly holding back her own tears, putting on a brave face for her little sister. Emma was sobbing quietly on her shoulder, her slender frame trembling against her sister's strength. 

He felt a sudden rush of anger towards their older brother, Percy. How could he not be there when his younger sisters needed him so much?

He tried to push down the emotion; there was no point in being angry right now. He was about to turn away and give the girls some privacy, when he noticed a car pulling up onto the street, and then stopping.

The man that got out of the cab was clearly their brother, his red hair a dead giveaway. GP couldn't help but notice the lack of warmth in his movements.

Percy Cane seemed…nearly detached as he took a few steps towards the house, but his steps seemed slow, as if every step he took was something he didn't want to do.

Here were his younger sisters grieving over their father's death, and Percy Cane acted as if he would rather be anywhere else.

"Perce," Ariel greeted him, her voice soft.

Emma turned in her sister's arms, staring at him. "You came," she said, her voice somewhat…actually surprised.

"You are my sisters," Percy responded, nearly robotically. 

There was something...off about the way he spoke...so emotioneless...so controlled… 

He watched as Percy nodded somewhat mechanically at his little sisters, avoiding making eye contact with them. "Of course, I came," he added after a moment.

"For how long?" Ariel asked him.

"I am finished. I don’t need to go back."

GP was quite sure that he was missing some of the context. 

"Finished with what?" Ariel asked him, staring at her brother. 

"My doctorate," Percy answered. "I am finished."

Gianpiero's jaw nearly dropped. The boy had finished a whole damn doctorate? How old was he, twenty-two, twenty-three at most? And here he was, talking about it like it was a minor inconvenience…

"What do we do now?" Percy asked Ariel, and for the first time...GP heard something like shaking in his voice.

And suddenly it made sense. 

Percy Cane wasn't an unfeeling monster. Even when he sounded like a robot or an emotionless asshole. 

GP would have bet nearly everything that Emma's assessment of "Good with numbers, Bad with people" also involved "horrible with feelings”. Clearly, the young man was out of his depth dealing with the emotional fallout of his father's death.

GP couldn't help but wonder if his detachment was just a way of coping, a wall to shield himself from the overwhelming emotions. But it wasn't helping his sisters right now.

But Ariel didn’t let that stop her. Didn’t let it make her hesitate. 

GP was struck by that fierce determination that crossed her face. She was taking on the responsibility for her family, no matter what.

"We'll get through this. We have done it before. We'll do it again."

It was a lot for a young woman her age, but she wasn't backing down. She was going to see her family through to the other side of this.

No arguments were heard...not when Emma buried her face against her sisters shoulder...and then for the first time...GP saw Percy Cane's hard shell break.

The usually emotionless young man looked utterly lost.

It was clear Percy hadn't quite figured out how to handle his own feelings about the situation. But his sister's words seemed to break through the walls he had built around himself.

And then…then suddenly he was hugging both of his sisters.

"You hate hugs," came Emma's muffled voice. 

"You don't," was Percy Cane's simple answer.

He watched as the three Cane siblings embraced each other, their arms tightly wound around each other.

But it was Ariel...Ariel that was the tower of strength. Who was the center. 

And the center must hold, regardless of anything else.  Ariel was the foundation, the one who kept them from falling apart. 

He could see how hard this was for her, how much she wanted to cry and grieve like any other girl her age. But in her mind, she couldn't. Not now. Her little sister and her oler brother needed her to hold it together so they had something to hold on to.

She was supposed to be a carefree college student, not the responsible head of her dysfunctional family.

Other kids her age only worry was from where to get cheap booze for the next night out. 

Being the strong one, the one who had to hold everyone together, was one of the hardest roles to play. It took strength, resilience and a ton of emotional stamina.

And determination. 

Ariel Cane seemed to have that gritty determination in spades.

[lovelyhan]

Kai hi! Don't know how and why but, I've been experiencing severe Seventeen brainrot in general so, I'm here to supply hard thoughts. (Also, I reread the JeongCheol x Reader trilogy you wrote and it remains a favourite of mine.)

I don't know who to start with so, I'll go with my man lol. The thought of being forced to cum on Cheol's ridiculously thick fingers makes me need to sit down. You know he'd be running his mouth too and, telling you how good you're doing for him.

the svt brainrot is well-deserved <3 and JAAHFJHD i'm so touched you reread inflection point thank you so much TT BUT HELLO? being forced to cum on cheol's fingers.... [kai.exe has stopped working]?!??!?

it kind of reminds me of the oneshot i wrote after he posted those pics on ig :| his fingers,,, what i'd do to get to cum around them /gen,, you can treat this drabble as a short continuation to that fic :3c

⟣ forced orgasm with cheol ⟢ wc: 0.8k words minors do not interact!

Choi Seungcheol is a man of his word.

When he tells you he'll pick you up at seven o'clock on a Friday evening despite his harrowing schedule, he'll pull up at the curb in front of your apartment with five minutes to spare. When he promises to call you every night he's away on tour, he'll phone you despite the time differences, and the fact that he sounds way too tired to be asking you about your day.

So when your boyfriend promises to stuff you full the next time you see each other, you know better than to call his bluff.

About twenty minutes since he hung up, you hear the telltale knocking on your door. You don't bother putting your underwear back on -- fully confident of the identity of your late-night visitor.

It's safe to say that when Seungcheol sees you behind the crack in the door wearing nothing but a flimsy tank top with your pert nipples straining against the fabric, you were completely at his mercy.

You don't even make it back to your room. Seungcheol simply brushes past you and makes himself comfortable on your couch -- dark eyes hooded with equal parts arousal and disappointment as he manspreads all over the cushions. Fuck.

"If I wasn't the one who was outside, what would've you done then?" he asks gruffly. "I didn't know you were such a fucking slut, princess. Answering the door wearing nothing but that top of yours. Might as well have done it naked."

You humor him with a laugh before striding over to take a seat on one of his thighs, making a mess of his sweatpants as you rub your needy pussy all over the fabric.

"That's just how badly I need you, Cheol," you whimper, sliding your hips against his thigh for the friction you've been craving since you saw those pictures he posted. When you feel those big, warm hands of his sliding up your thighs, you can't help the moan that spills from your lips.

"Turn around and sit on my lap," he commands, and you're much too willing to comply.

The moment your back is pressed against his broad chest, Seungcheol pries your legs apart -- gathering your slick between his fingers before prodding your lips with them. When your boyfriend whispers a quiet, "That's my girl," you practically preen at his praise.

And that's how you find yourself writhing on your boyfriend's lap as he fucks you open on his thick, large fingers -- whining and crying as your walls clamp down on each digit. Seungcheol deigned to start with three, as you've already loosened yourself up during that sultry phone call you shared before he came over, and he delights in how depraved you are from his mere fingers alone.

"Such a good fucking girl for me, aren't you?" he rasps, sinking those digits into your cunt before curling them just so. "You miss me that much, baby? Want to keep me all to yourself?"

"F-Fuck, Cheol!"

You can't even bring yourself to respond. He's so thick, and so, so deep, and he hasn't even brought out his dick yet. But when your brain manages to make you remember how you felt seeing all those fans thirsting for your boyfriend, you end up hissing through your teeth as you grind down on his hand.

"Mine, mine, mine. You're mine," you mewl, barely hearing the sound of Seungcheol's amused laughter before he smashes your lips together.

"All yours, princess," he whispers, and you cry out when those few, subtle words end up becoming the catalyst for your inevitable release.

But even as your walls spasm around his fingers, Seungcheol is relentless. He continues fucking into your cunt with unending fervor -- as if he means to engrave the idea of how much he's missed you as well into your body. You're practically twitching on his lap as he mumbles an incoherent string of words against the skin of your neck, but you're not exactly in the right headspace to tell him off.

"My beautiful baby, always so pretty when you cum for me," is what you first hear when the white noise finally recedes from your ears. You realize that you're still moving your hips despite the overstimulation, so fucking desperate to have any part of him inside you again. "You want more? I've fucked you stupid with my fingers alone, and you still want more?"

You do. You do want more.

"I remember a certain someone saying he'll blow my back out the moment he's back here with me," you sigh, tilting your head so you can kiss the corner of his mouth. "Is he going to make good on his promise?"

The ravenous glint in his eyes is enough of an answer. After all...

Choi Seungcheol is a man of his word.

[ioniansunsets]

Hi! Recently found you, and i LOVE your writing and ideas! Their very tasty, like high-quality chocolate &/or caramel!

I offer (potentially angsty) scenario(you don't have to do) with heartsteel kayn & Idol or k/da!Reader?

What if a stage malfunction happened during readers' (or kayns) show?? (Or a sabotage from a fan? Perhaps?)

(Bonus: & What if... reader or kayn got hurt?) Thank you if you choose to do this ask🩷 (Sorry ahhh-- this is my first time sending an ask)

✖ Heartsteel!Kayn x KDA!Reader Where Reader Gets Injured✖

✖ Word Count: 1.4k

✖ Tags: Established R/S, Mild Injury, Ends with Comfort, IDK if I'd even tag this as Angsty (maybe a tinge)

✖ A/N: I think its cute how Ahri, Akali, Evelyn and Kai’sa all technically can dash towards you with their actual in game skills LMFAO so cute...these girls would do anything to protect you. I think it’s very cute when a lover goes batshit insane with worry for you. Have mercy too, I’ve never been hospitalized, only visited people LMAO

Also thank you for asking this! I am so happy that you love my thoughts and words >&lt;

✖ Wrote This Listening To: Drugs and Candy

----

There were always toxic fans. You knew that, and Kayn of course knew his fanbase were sometimes as batshit insane as him. But the past few weeks were great! Social media was abuzz with positive comments about you two, fans congratulated you at fanmeets praising how cute you looked with Kayn.

Everything pointed towards how the fanbase took the official announcement of you two dating well but of course, you know delusional, parasocial fans existed too.

What you don’t know, was how they got past security.

You don’t know how they sneaked past all the checks and stage tests.

Maybe it was on you, maybe you were training too hard and were too tired to notice.

Maybe the high of performing live on stage and all the bits and bops of things to do left it so you didn’t notice the creak of the bright lights above you. The lights in the same pink purple hues of Kayn’s hair. The last thing you remember was the crackle of lights, the screams of your fans, and all your band mates in a blur dashing towards you.

-

It was arguably just as bad for Kayn.

Sure he wasn’t there, he wasn’t injured, he wasn’t the target of the attack nor was he the one in the hospital but there was nothing worse than hearing that you were still out cold, uncertain of how hurt you actually were.

There was nothing worse really, seeing the clips circulating online of what happened being reposted by all sorts of accounts. The blood that flowed from you onto the stage, oh god he didn’t even know humans could bleed this much.

There was nothing worse than knowing that he was stuck on tour and couldn’t be by your side.

There was nothing worse than not being able to call you and check on you because according to Akali you were STILL in the ER right now, you’re still unconscious and the doctors have no updates. How! It has been at least 4 hours since your opening act. Since the incident.

There was nothing worse, than fighting with his bandmates and managers, begging to go back to be by your side, and only after Alune stood up for him saying how “ The Heartbeats would understand why Kayn was missing. Let him go or he would just sneak off at night and do it anyway.” That management allowed them to postpone their weekend show so he could book a midnight flight to you.

There was nothing worse, than sitting alone in the private airport lounge, checking socials for updates and finding out HIS fan was the one that was caught on CCTV being the perpetrator, the one that did this to you, the love of his life. They even wore a jacket with Rhaast’s icon sewn onto the back, almost mocking him. Sure you were the one physically hurt, but the way his emotions were all over the place, the way his heart refused to calm down, the way he haven’t felt so much like throwing up since he left his old band. He hated this.

Hands tightening around his already cracked phone, the only reason he hasn’t angrily thrown it against the wall was because Akali messaged him telling Kayn how you were stable now, you lived fine, you were still sleeping but you were out of surgery at least. He swallows hard, quickly picking up his small luggage as he runs over to the gate to board his plane. Kayn breathes heavy, only thoughts about being by your side when you wake up keep him walking and keep the absolute rage and chaos Rhaast has at bay. The flight couldn’t be any longer to him.

-

He ran, the second the Taxi dropped him off at the hospital he phased through walls and booked it straight up to your room, leaving Akali to sigh as she signs him in. The way his hands shook as he slowly opened the door to your ward. Feeling like it was somehow rude to phase through this one way although one, you were still unconscious and two he already violated the privacy of half the hospital.

“ My little demon…This is all my fault.”

Kayn slowly walked to your side after he steps in, watching and noting how you had your eye patched up, how bandages trailed down your body, how pale your skin was. He was going to throw up again, seeing you this way. Ahri who was in the room watching over you let him know you could still see of course, and nothing plastic surgery can’t fix about the scars. You would be fine after a week or two of rest. The shards of glass from the strobe lights missed all the important bits, only scratching up your brow, cheek and collar. Ahri offers Kayn a small sad smile before leaving to give him time with you. The other girls in K/DA has some cuts and bruises saving your from the falling light but otherwise were fine.

It was another hour of your steady breathing and the beeping of machines around him. To Kayn, it felt like hours. Inconsolable hours where his thoughts went wild. Rhaast kept at bay from trashing the place solely from how weak and shaky your breathing was. So when the beeping finally started to pick up Kayn was standing up, hand holding yours, calling out to you frantic and concerned as you slowly blinked and opened your eyes.

“ Oh my god you’re finally awake baby.”

You watched your boyfriend cry, silent tears falling as he spoke over and over about how he should have curated his audience more, warned them to not pull shit like this to you. Anger about how could his “obsessive fans” not know that hurting you would hurt him just as much. Frustration about not being in the audience this time to save you. Sorrow about seeing how much pain you were in right now because of him. Anger once again from Rhaast this time about how incompetent your security was for letting a mistake like this go unnoticed and finally…overwhelming relief that you were ultimately ok. It was new, seeing him so scared, so worried, no doubt all of these emotions were because of just how much Kayn loved you but still, you felt bad making him worry so much. Finally he updates you, telling you about what happened, how you would be ok, he would make sure of it.

“ I…I’m sorry you had to go through this because of me. If you want to leave me because of my fans I will totally understand.”

You watched his voice crack as his hand grasps yours tighter. Your lover’s brows furrowed as he thinks hard. Biting his lip so hard you could almost see it bleed.

“ No Kayn! I would never! It’s not your fault. None of it was your fault, my own crazy fans could have done this to me too y’know. Plus if I breakup with you, they totally won.”

You reply, throat a little dry from not speaking so long but you had to tell him. No way you’re letting some insane fan ruin your performance, your day and your relationship. You watch him finally smile a little as you speak, the corners of his lips barely curving, tears stopping at your frantic attempts to make sure he knows just how much you love him back. No way in hell or heaven would you give up what you have with him because of some lunatic. Especially after seeing just how much he loved you, flying here for you? Putting his work behind for You? How could you let this man go.

“ Hey, at least we can get matching eyepatches now?”

At your comment, he lets out an exasperated laugh.

" I’m sorry, I should be the one making you feel better not the other way around. Here.”

You watch as Kayn slips a finger under his eyepatch, pulling it off carefully before bending down to give your bandaged side a small kiss. Hands uncharacteristically gentle as they worked their way around your hair and all the gauze to put his eyepatch on you. Giving you another quick kiss on your lips before pulling away.

" Looking good darling."

" Only because you style me so well!"

Yeah, it will be ok, the two of you were motivated, hardworking idols, a setback like this meant nothing. As he smiles again at you, the signature cheeky, prideful smile you’ve come to love from him. Your heart flutters. Yeah, something like this won’t stop you from loving him.

[phoenixtakaramono]

I swear to god you were on demon mode when you wrote the multiverse conclusion. My jaw is literally on the floor. I have to compose myself otherwise I’ll just keyboard smash my phone in hysteria.

The way you write makes it so easy to envision the scene in my head, like word for word you set it up so perfectly that I’m like oh okay so I’m really seeing all these Butchers take on one Homelander. That’s ace, that’s juice, that’s every single compliment I can think of.

I can’t wait for the sequel oh my god oh my GOD. All those HLs with one Butcher? HL on HL? The possibilities are endless. Thank you again for sharing this with us!!

This Ask is regarding this 🔞 butchlander multiverse oneshot threadfic on twitter (tumblr read version: parts 1, 2)

Thank you very much for reading! I had The Name of the Game (AO3) thoughts in my brain that are unrelated to the main story so, whilst that 135ch monstrosity is gonna take its time, I might as well offer some unofficial post-main story or during-main story spin-offs—but as threadfic oneshots so they won’t clutter AO3 and/or taint the reading experience when more chapters are added. The brainworms were strong this time, so I might as well tap into that creative surge of inspiration instead of letting it gather dust and maybe never see the light of day.

Re: the threadfic ending. I’d always planned to have the vice versa switcheroo in this threadfic (where it turns from 7 Butchers + 1 TNotG HL into 7 Homelanders + 1 TNotG Billy 😉) but I had initially been uncertain whether to include it in this threadfic itself or allocate it to a separate sequel threadfic. I saw how long this oneshot threadfic was becoming and, well, after having to essentially retype 60% of what I could recall from memory after the last unsaved 58 tweets were lost to the void, I guess you can say the universe helped make my decision, hahaha.

Fun fact: I’d mentioned this in Part II’s comments, but making it the 5 HLs from 5 of my threadfics + the 1 HL from the Truce universe transmigrated into the TNotG universe is us having mercy on Billy. Because, imagine, you’re the scummy Male Lead who has quick transmigrated (world hopped) into 6 parallel universes, and had a relationship with each parallel dimension’s version of Homelander. And upon returning to your own world, you schemed to to get together with your own world’s destined lover Homelander—and it happened, although probably not how Billy had envisioned it with HL taking initiative into his own hands drugging him and making him participate in a seven-way 0rgy to seduce him. But bam! Murphy’s Law struck, and now Billy has to contend with seven jealous Homelanders. They’re the prideful trophy wives who are reunited with the husband they’d thought they’d lost, but he’s alive, and in their eyes they equate it as him “cheating” on them with a new hot floozy (TNotG’s HL). *laughs*

It’s a lot more dramatic if I made it a reunion, so instead I decided to be merciful on our Male Lead service top and instead make 6 of those Homelanders from my other fics, so the narrative is easier to handle not that TNotG HL wouldn’t also be down for a fun time with TNotG 6 other HLs.

Essentially I am willing to serve y’all the Homelander f*cking doppelgänger Homelander scene that we never got to see, Amazon you cowards. But ramp it up a notch, and toss our somewhat nicer to HL TNotG Billy Prime into the sweaty pile of clingy, needy, h0rny affection-craving Homelanders (but ofc Billy has to pay TNotG Homelander the most loving attention and endearments to smooth his ruffled feathers because hoo boooooy, imagine the cocktail of jealousy, insecurity, entitlement, and competitiveness in that one room alone y’all this is a grownass man who’d canonically gotten jealous and had a one-sided beef with a baby).

Like^^^ tell me this man wouldn’t enjoy a seven-way selfcest g@ngb@ng 0rgy session with himself, and with a very willing diabolically handsome V-ed up British Supe patiently servicing them in that pile. TELL ME IT WOULDN’T BE ONE OF HOMELANDER’S WET DREAMS.

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Better Off - Bernard DeMarco x OFC - Chapter 13

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

AO3

Summary: As she adjusts to life without DeMarco, Susie finds catharsis with the arrival of a new face at Thorpe Abbotts

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags: @xxluckystrike @latibvles @footprintsinthesxnd @mads-weasley @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy @justheretoreadthxxs @blakelysco-pilot

A/N: I'm so sorry this chapter has taken soooo long. I got really stuck on this one for some reason, and I've rewritten this chapter several times, but I hope you enjoy it!!

Hiya Suze

If you get this letter, it'll probably come as a bit of a surprise. By now I'm sure you've got my footlocker - which means you've read what I left inside as well. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that I meant every word, but I'll say it all again if you want. I was nervous when I wrote it. I wasn't sure you'd wanna hear what I had to say, but now I know you'll need it.

I'm alive. I love you. I miss you every day.

I got picked up with Gale and some of the others when the plane went down. We're in a POW camp now, but it ain't so bad. We got beds and food and we're all here together, so I don't want you to worry. There's a library here too, which'll probably be getting a lotta use if I'm here a long while. You should send me a list of your favourite books, I'll see if I can find any of them.

Look after Meatball - make sure he doesn't forget his Pops. I'm only allowed to send one letter at a time, so I left a note at the end of this for my folks. If you'd mind passing on a message to let them know where I'm at, that'd be swell.

I dunno how long this'll take to get to you, but do me a favour and write back as soon as you can. I wanna hear everything, even the stuff you think's boring, cuz knowing you I'll only get a paragraph back if you edit that stuff out.

It's cold here without you. I'm not really a praying man, but I pray this will all be over soon so I can see you again.

All my love,

Benny

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Susie wasn't quite sure how many times she'd read Benny's letter, poking through the words over and over and over again until she could practically recite them from memory. She knew whatever the real number was would undoubtedly be embarrassing - there was mercy in not knowing. No one said a word when she slept with it tucked beneath her pillow.

Dear Benny

I've started calling you Benny now that you're not here. It still feels weird. I went to see my sister Beatrice after you went down, before I knew you were ok. She's divorcing her husband, and we talk on the phone a lot. I think we're doing better. It's nice.

Not much in the way of news to report. We've had some bad missions lately - I hope at least some of them end up where you are.

I think Maeve fancies one of Rosie's crew. Not sure which one yet. Will let you know once I figure it out. She says hi, and also wants to know if you'll sign off on letting her look after Meatball when I'm busy (He's still not allowed in my truck. Not happening.)

I know you can only send letters every now and then, but I don't know how many you can receive. I'll keep writing whenever anything letter-worthy comes up - let me know if you get them.

I hope it's not too long before I hear from you again.

I miss you too.

Susie

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Why was it so hard to write down? He wasn't even here - she'd never have to see the way his face lit up when he read those words, imagining them with her voice. Perhaps that was why. Perhaps, as difficult as it was for her to say, Susie could only bear to say it to his face. She stared at the letter in her hands, fighting the sudden urge to ball the paper up in her fist. He deserved more than these words - something substantive and real and tender to keep him going wherever he was. But when Susie reached for those things, nothing came.

With a sigh, she slotted the letter into its envelope.

She squinted against the icy wind as she stepped outside, letter tucked in her pocket, wrapping her coat tighter around herself, knuckled turning red and sore in the cold. Her scarf flapped back and forth, loose strands of hair catching in the corner of her mouth, and Susie almost lost her balance as the weight of another body fell against her, arms flung around her neck as she tried not to skid against the gravel. "Fuckin' hell," She chuckled, Maeve's laughter ringing in her ear as the girl planted her feet firmly back on the ground, falling in step beside her, arms still slung around Susie's neck in a sideways embrace.

"Morning," Maeve chirped, gloved fingers drumming an incoherent rhythm against her shoulder.

"Where've you been?"

"Took Meatball for a walk before breakfast. Saw Blakely - he says we should come by the O-Club for drinks since we haven't been in a while. Oh, and fun news for you," She had begun to smirk.

"Oh yeah?" Susie asked, pulling her scarf up to warm her chin.

"They want you training the newbie today."

Her expression contorted into an immediate grimace at the prospect. "Oh, no, I was supposed to go up to Norwich today."

"Yeah, they've given me that job."

"Are you fucking kidding?"

"Nope. Apparently she's from London."

Susie groaned, leaning sideways with her full weight until Maeve had to stagger to keep upright, a giggle escaping her. "Oh, come on," She whined. "Bet she's never seen a single-track road in her fucking life."

"Yeah, alright, Manchester," Maeve scoffed. "Get off yer high horse."

Shrugging the girl's arms off from around her, Susie snorted, readjusting her scarf. "Yeah, yeah. Just lemme go deal with it, unless you have someone else's job to steal."

"I'm happy just taking yours, actually," Maeve teased, laughing as Susie elbowed her in the side.

"Whatever. Just need to post this letter and then you can fuck off."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The engine of Maeve's truck roared as she pulled out of the ATS depot, heading out on the job that should have been Susie's. As she watched her go, she sighed. She'd never imagined anyone could yearn to go to Norwich, yet here she was. Drumming her fingers impatiently against the back of her clipboard, she crossed the yard towards the furthest garage, where her truck was parked.

A girl was standing awkwardly beside it, staring down at her feet as she tugged at her jacket, which didn't quite fit her properly. Her jet-black curls were pulled back into a tight ponytail, so neat that Susie found herself pondering at how long it must have taken.

She paused, glancing down at her notes. "... Private Banerjee? Yes?"

The girl looked up with a start, clearing her throat nervously. "Eva's fine. But yeah - no, yeah, that's right."

Susie paused a moment, slightly taken aback by her anxious exuberance. "Jesus, how old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"... Right. And you can drive?"

"Mhm. Although they said they're not letting me have a truck for a while."

"Well then, it's a good thing I'm in charge," With a shrug, Susie strolled past Eva and around the truck, patting a hand against the bonnet. "Hop in. Driver's side."

Eva moved before she had quite processed the instruction, pausing after her first step. "Wait. Seriously?"

"That's an order, Private," Susie called as she climbed into the passenger seat, a glint in her eye that suggested she was enjoying this. The new girl slid into her seat hesitantly, slightly put off by this.

"I think we'll just do a lap of the base first, 'n I'll show you where everything is."

"Yes, sir... Ma'am?"

She pulled a face. "I'll call you Eva if you call me Susie."

Eva chuckled. "Deal."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The engine hummed quietly as the truck rested on the side of the road, windows rolled up against the winter cold as Susie pointed out the buildings that surrounded them. "That's the mess over there, and past it's the Officers' club," She grunted slightly, shuffling forward in her seat to get a better view. Eva craned her head, squinting as her gaze followed the line her finger made.

"What's this one?" She asked, gesturing to the closest hut.

"Debrief. You probably won't need to go in there, though."

"What's debrief?"

"It's where they send the flight crews after a mission - go over everything that happened, get a count of who went down, yunno."

At the mention of lost crews, Eva seemed to tighten, her shoulders going stiff as she sat back in her seat, staring down into her lap. Susie watched her for a moment, letting out a sigh. Propping a knee up on the seat, she turned to face her.

"Hey," She offered gently. "I'm not gonna lie to you and say this job's easy, that wouldn't do you any favours. We live around these guys and, yeah, sometimes it's hard not to get attached. You might meet someone who means a lot to you, who you swear you couldn't bear to lose. I've-" Susie paused. "... I've heard that can happen, anyway."

Gnawing at the inside of her lip, Eva nodded, tearing her gaze away from the hands folded in her lap. As she glanced up, something caught her eye, and she paused for a moment, a slight smile curling her lip.

"... Is she your sister? She looks like you."

Caught off guard, Susie looked up, noticing the old photo of Ellie still stuck to the rearview mirror. She felt her hand twitch, fighting that old recurring urge to snatch the picture away, to keep her a secret clutched tight to her chest.

But the thing was, Ellie would have never wanted to be anyone's secret. Ellie's dreams had been far too big for that.

"Uh, yeah. She was prettier than me though."

Eva's smile widened, and Susie couldn't tell if she hadn't noticed her use of the past tense, or if it simply didn't bother her.

"Yeah, mine was too."

The reply caught her by surprise. People always offered condolences. No one ever seemed to understand her. In spite of herself, she smiled. How long had it been since Susie had thought of her sister and smiled?

"What was her name?" She asked slowly.

"Sruthi," Eva nodded. "She was born back in India, and then my parents had me when they moved here. I think when they named me they wanted me to fit in with the other English kids, but I was always a bit jealous of her."

Susie chuckled, nodding. "Mine was called Ellie. She was annoying, but in that way younger siblings always get away with, yunno?"

Eva laughed in agreement. "Oh, yeah - I was always like that. Jumping on her to wake her up in the morning-"

"She did that too!" Susie blurted loudly, suddenly realising she was grinning - really, truly grinning. The pair chuckled, easing into comfortable silence. Outside the window, a group of flight and ground crew wandered past, chatting to one another, bundled in their coats and scarves. A flash of reddish hair marked Charlotte out among them, Meatball weaving between her legs, his leash secure in her hand.

"Why is everyone stealing my dog today?" She muttered, temple pressing against the cold glass as she angled for a better look.

"They let you have a dog?!" Eva gasped, shuffling forward on the edge of her seat as she searched for him.

"Well," Susie shrugged, pausing to rummage in the glovebox for a snack. "He's my partner's dog really - he brought him over from Greenland, but he's in one of those POW camps, so I'm looking after it. He's kinda becoming communal property though."

"Shit, I'm sorry," Eva frowned, accepting a slightly crumbled biscuit as the packet was offered to her, the two pausing their conversation to chew for a moment. "I always wanted a dog."

"I'm more of a cat person. But Meatball's pretty good."

"His name's Meatball? That's, uh-"

"It's a stupid fucking name."

A burst of surprised laughter escaped Eva. "Yeah, it kinda is."

"It's like naming your dog fucking Sandwich, but it was already very much a thing by the time I had any say."

Smiling, Eva propped her elbow up against the door, resting her chin against her knuckles.

"... What's your boyfriend's name?" She asked tentatively.

"Benny. He is the most annoyingly persistent person you'll ever meet in your life, but it's literally the only reason we ended up being friends in the first place. So I s'pose it was worth it."

It fell quiet again, the type of quiet Susie didn't feel an intense need to pierce. She could sit in this for a while. If she hadn't had a job to do, she would've.

"Alright, c'mon. Let's finish up and head back."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The passenger side door shut with a slam as Susie climbed out, clipboard wedged under her arm as she wrapped her scarf back around her neck against the chill, which showed no signs of subsiding as the morning trailed into afternoon. A puff of breath materialised before her as she rounded the truck, coming up to Eva's window as she cranked it down.

"Not much else I can give you to do today, but if you're back here at eight-thirty tomorrow we'll get you on something. I'll speak to the bosses and see if we can get you a truck a bit sooner, it'll just make things easier."

"Okay," Eva smiled. "Thank you."

"Yeah, no bother," Susie shrugged, glancing down at her notes. "I've got some stuff I've gotta deal with, but me and some of the other girls were gonna head to the Officers' club for drinks later if you wanna come."

"Uh... no-"

"Oh, yeah, no worries," She nodded, frowning slightly.

"No, no! Only because I don't drink, s'all. It sounds nice... I was wondering if I could maybe walk the dog sometime? Or come with you when you take him out?" Eva asked sheepishly, suddenly awkward in a way that made Susie fight the urge to smile.

"Yeah, that sounds good," She smirked. "Come by the hut whenever, he's always happy to see people. He has too much energy for me anyway."

A grin creased the younger girl's cheeks. "Alright!"

"Alright," Susie chuckled, patting the truck door with a thud as she took a step back. "Take her into the garage and then you can head out."

"Yes ma'am."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

DeMarco's gloved hands lay folded across his chest, his back propped up uncomfortably against the bedframe, breath freezing in front of his face. With a bored frown, he watched the spider in the corner of the windowsill, working away at its web, spinning each silver thread with a sense of purpose he could only yearn for, sitting there in the cramped hut.

Despite the bodies that filled it, the place was quiet, exhaustion lulling the downed flight crews into silence. It had been weeks since he'd slept well, and he'd never imagined he could ache for the uncomfortable beds back at Thorpe Abbotts until now. The guard dogs barked at all hours of the night, searchlights glaring at them through the windows over and over and over, around and around and around.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there, unmoving, just watching. All he knew was that he didn't have any intention of going anywhere.

The floorboards creaked loudly as Brady hurried in, a handful of envelopes clutched tightly in his gloved palm. The energy in the room shifted, like a pack of dogs whose ears had suddenly pricked. Post came unpredictably, and when it did it always promised to either lift the spirits or crush them entirely.

One by one, Brady sifted through the letters, calling out their anxious recipients.

"DeMarco," He said, holding up a single, battered envelope.

Stillness immediately shattered, DeMarco leapt to his feet, hurrying towards him and snatching the letter swiftly from his grip. The cold numbed his fingertips, even through the gloves, and it was a struggle to tear through the envelope without damaging its contents, forcing restraint despite the agonising need to read whatever words were encased within.

He unfolded the paper, running a hand across his stubbled chin as his eyes scanned through the loops and curls of Susie's handwriting, a grin spreading across his expression as he went. It wasn't until Bucky chuckled beside him that he realised how widely he was beaming.

"What's got you smiling?" He asked with a smirk.

DeMarco let out a breath of laughter, looking up from the page.

"She called me Benny."

[xe-n4]

love in learning

feat. oliver, nagi & sae note: i wrote this ages ago (reupload) contains: i don't remember & i'm not rereading it total: 1,303

—OLIVER

He knew he shouldn’t. But it was right there. The blue notebook you’ve been scribbling in for the last few weeks. It seemed like you were researching something because you had your laptop with you. But you never let Oliver know the contents of it, slamming both the book and laptop shut whenever you saw him. 

He was curious. 

Oliver’s fingers danced around the notebook. He debated with himself. Open it or leave it alone. He may never know what’s inside that book. But you would tell when you were ready, right? 

So he opened it. 

Oliver flicked through the pages, eyes scanning the words. He didn’t understand what he was looking at until he saw the word ‘centre-back’. A grin crept onto his face when he noticed the little doodle of himself next to it. 

You filled the pages with information about football and his favourite players. His heart swelled with joy as he continued to peruse through it. The rules, the positions and their purposes. He couldn’t believe it. 

“Hey, Oli, have you seen—” 

You cut yourself off upon seeing your boyfriend with your notebook. Wave after wave of embarrassment hit you with no mercy, not allowing you time to breathe. Heat spread from your chest to your neck and your hands balled into fists at your sides. 

Oliver stared—you stared as well. The silence was killing you, but the smirk that played on his lips made it worse. You wanted the floor to swallow you whole. Maybe living underground wouldn’t be so bad. 

“Care to explain?” he teased as he gestured to the book. 

You shook your head. 

“No? Okay then, let’s read from it, shall we?” His eyes glinted as he flipped to the next page. “If the score is equal—” 

Something went off in you and you went over to cover his mouth, snatching the book away. Oliver moved your hand off of his face and laughed at your pouting face. 

He wrapped his arms around your torso and leaned in. “Aw, my baby’s so cute,” he spoke as if he was talking to a child. 

“Shut up, old man.” You buried your face in his neck to run away from his teasing. 

“Are you embarrassed?” Oliver leaned back and his hands caressed your chin. His grip was firm but gentle and the feeling brought you a sense of familiarity. But it couldn’t get rid of how humiliated you felt. 

“Y/n, thank you,” Oliver said with a smile. Not one to tease you with, but a genuine smile from a place of happiness. 

Confusion plastered itself all over your features. “What... did I do?” 

“The book.” Your eyes widened, and he hurried to clear the air. “Thank you for trying to understand me and the sport I love. You didn’t have to, going to the games is enough.” 

“The games are kinda boring when you don’t know what’s happening,” you mumbled. 

“Maybe. But thank you anyway.” Oliver planted a kiss on your forehead.

—NAGI

Nagi was lying on his stomach with his phone in hand. He was watching video compilations of traps and other defensive moves. Normally, you’d have no interest in it. Football was Nagi’s thing. But you felt different about it today. 

Once you crawled onto the bed next to him, you rested your head on his shoulder. “Hey, Sei?” He hummed. “What’s a trap?” 

He answered without looking away from the screen. “It’s a move to keep control of the ball.” 

“Cool.” 

This was going nowhere. 

You didn’t know how to ask him, but he also didn’t seem interested. Maybe I’ll try later. You moved off the bed to leave when a hand gripped your wrist tightly. Nagi pulled you back effortlessly. You landed on his chest and he kept you there, putting one arm encompassing you. His other hand still held his phone and resumed the video. 

“Where’re you going?” he mumbled. Nagi didn’t really want an answer. “Stay.” 

“I thought you were busy—”   

“I can multitask.” Nagi nuzzled into you. “What d’you wanna know?” 

“Um... I guess I didn’t really think this through,” you chuckled nervously and Nagi pinched your side in response. 

“So unprepared,” he jokingly scolded. 

Nagi clicked through his phone before setting it in front of you. The video began with the camera scanning through the crowd. People of all different backgrounds cheering from the sidelines with flags, banners and some even had face paint on them. 

The camera then showed the players walking on the field in their flashy uniforms, and the crowd cheered and screamed even louder. The bright lights above the stadium made the grass look lighter than it was. 

“Sei, what’s this?” 

“Football game,” he replied. “I’ll talk you through it.”  

“I like that you want to know more. It made me feel something inside. I liked it.” 

You laughed at his simplistic way of describing his emotions, then he shushed you when the game started. Nagi pointed to each of the players when he talked about their positions. He explained the moves they did and why someone got a yellow card. 

His soft voice brought you comfort, which made it easier to concentrate on the sport, though you barely understood it. 

After the game ended, Nagi stared at you expectantly, silently asking for your opinion. “It was fun.” was your only response. 

It was. Maybe your judgement before was biased, but now you had a better understanding of why your boyfriend loved it so much. 

—SAE

“I thought you didn’t like football,” Sae said with a straight face, looking up from his laptop 

“Well... I thought it would be fun if you taught me some stuff,” you replied, rubbing the back of your neck. His stare made your heart race and your ears sting. Not in a good way. 

“What’s the point if you don’t care about it,” he grumbled as he went back to what he was doing. A very obvious tell that he didn’t want the conversation to continue. 

You sat down in the chair next to him and interlocked your pinkies. “I care about you though.” 

Sae’s eyes flicked from your joined hands to your face a few times before he sighed. A small smile made its way onto his face. He properly intertwined your hands and leaned down to kiss them.  

“Get changed, we’re going out.” was the only instruction he gave. Though he implied that wearing anything fancy would be a terrible idea. 

And he was right. 

Sae took you to the nearest football centre and rented out a small field. Goals stood tall and mighty on each side, and white lines ran across the grass. The sun was still beaming down, and you wished that you’d just kept it to yourself. 

“Is this really necessary?” you whined before walking onto the grass. 

Your boyfriend was ahead, holding a ball against his hip. “This is the only way you’ll learn, Y/n.” 

“Or is it the only way you can teach?” you mocked under your breath as you followed behind him. 

And with your horrible luck, he heard every word. Sae turned around once he got to the centre and set down the ball. “Four laps.” 

“Huh?” 

“What’d you mean ‘huh’?” He settled his hands on his hips with a—fake—frown. “Fine then. Five laps. Hurry!” 

During that ‘warm up’, you gained a stitch in your side and sweat soaked through your clothes. After that Sae, showed you how to dribble and tackle. The first time you successfully stole the ball from him made his heart full as he watched you celebrate, then collapse, demanding a break. 

“Dumbass.” He booped your nose before shoving a water bottle into your face. Wordlessly you took it and started chugging its content as if you’ve never had a drink of it before. Sae grinned. “Dumbass.” 

m.list | like & reblog

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

The Right Reverend Mariann Budde, the Episcopal bishop of Washington, D.C., has a history of practicing what’s called “the prophetic tradition”: naming the world’s ills and calling out those who perpetrate them. In 2020, after President Donald Trump ordered the dispersal of Black Lives Matter protesters from Lafayette Square and then posed there for photographs, standing before St. John’s Church and holding a Bible, she expressed outrage. “Mr. Trump used sacred symbols to cloak himself in the mantle of spiritual authority, while espousing positions antithetical to the Bible that he held in his hands,” Budde wrote in an op-ed. When Trump ran for reëlection in 2020, she said that she had “given up speaking to President Trump.”

Yet earlier this week, from the pulpit of the Washington National Cathedral, Budde addressed President Trump directly and personally. Her nearly fifteen-minute sermon focussed on what she described as three necessary elements for national unity: dignity, honesty, and humility. Then, toward the end of her sermon, she added a fourth, calling on Trump to “have mercy” on those in America, particularly immigrants and members of the L.G.B.T.Q. community, who are currently afraid. The final two minutes of her sermon went viral, drawing ire from Trump’s supporters, who have commented that she should be placed on “the deportation list,” and that Budde is “exhibit A for why women should not be pastors, priests, or bishops.” Trump posted on Truth Social that Budde was a “so-called Bishop.” “She is not very good at her job!” he added. “She and her church owe the public an apology!”

Budde, the author of “How We Learn to Be Brave,” from 2023, has not apologized to Trump, nor to anyone else, for her remarks. On Thursday morning, she spoke with me by phone from her home in Washington, D.C. In a forty-minute conversation, which has been edited for length and clarity, Budde reflected on what she’d intended to say in the sermon, the role of prayer in her life, and the responsibility of religious leaders to address the social and political realities of their time.

You’ve mentioned that your decision to speak about mercy came after hearing Trump talk about God’s will, and invoke the divine right of kings in his inaugural speech. Can you walk us through how you made this decision to speak out, and the role that prayer played in it?

I was starting to feel incomplete, just unsettled, about the three pillars of unity—that there was something missing. So I was struggling before Monday morning, actually, just talking back and forth with people with whom I was sharing my ideas and thoughts.

At some point on Monday—and I can’t remember when, but it was in the context of the sweeping descriptions of whole swaths of people in our society in ways that were so harsh and inconsistent with what I knew to be true, what most of us know to be true—the word mercy kept coming to me, mercy and empathy. I decided to stay with mercy, in part because I knew that, in that context and in that moment, I needed to honor the office of the President and the fact that millions of people, as I said, placed their trust in him and were counting on him to lead the country. He himself felt providentially spared to make America great again, as he said, but also to lead, right?

I was trying to find a way to bring into the room those who were not part of the vision of unity that he described in his Inaugural Address, and, indeed, the way he’s been talking about our country through the entire campaign. And, of course, I was in prayer. I was in conversation with different people within my own inner dialogue. And so I chose to ask for mercy, and I also tried to humanize the people I was referring to, who are in need of mercy—the people who are afraid.

I figured there were probably one thousand people in the cathedral that morning. And I was guessing that there were parents in the room of children who were gay and lesbian, or maybe even transgender, or they themselves were gay or lesbian, so they would know something of the struggle. I was trying to humanize, to bring us into that same spirit of when we get to know each other, we’re more alike than we are different. And also, in speaking of the immigrant population—and particularly those who are arriving into this country and taking on the tasks that keep our society going, often behind the scenes or at off hours, and doing really back-breaking labor—to say that these are people that many of us know. I wanted to bring them into the room, to help evoke the images of actual people, rather than broad categories or characterizations.

Writing—and you’re a writer, so I think you understand this—is a form of prayer for me. It involves everything, right? Every aspect of my being, all of my ego, my insecurities, my strengths. You know those rare moments when you feel like you actually have energy to write, and other times when you feel like you’re going to fall asleep in front of the screen? It’s all prayer, and so that was certainly a part of it as well.

You’ve spoken in the past about the uselessness of speaking to Trump, that you’re done speaking to Trump. I thought, as I listened, that yes, you addressed him, but were you speaking to Trump?

That’s really interesting. I guess when I said in the past that I was done speaking to Trump, I really meant I had given up any illusion that my words would have any influence on him. I did not see myself as one he would consider a credible voice to listen to. And I daresay that is still the case. Yet, in that moment, I chose to address him personally. I could have kept it in the broad third-person plural, like I had for the other three [principles of unity], right? We need these three things. We all need to do them. But I thought, in that moment, I would honor his office.

As a communication technique, family-systems people will often tell us that, if you really want someone in your circle to hear you, let them overhear you talk to somebody else. Like if my children, my grown adult children, talk to someone else about their lives, and I happen to be eavesdropping—I’m sitting over in the kitchen, chopping vegetables, you know what I mean—and they’re talking to a college friend, or they’re talking to a family friend or an uncle, they talk differently, and I listen differently.

I was actually counting on people overhearing me talk to Trump in a way that would communicate to them. So there was that. The other part was that I was very aware that I was not simply speaking to those gathered in the sanctuary of the cathedral but that we were actually part of a public discourse that had been going on throughout the political season. As I mentioned, there’s a certain amount of rhetoric that we take as normal now, and particularly so in political seasons, and it’s a really dangerous way to run a country. If we talk to each other like that all the time, we are going down a path of self-destruction as a nation.

You just talked about your kids, and, as a pastor’s kid, I have some experience of how the political can play out in the personal. I would imagine your kids are just so proud of you. How are they? How is your family with all this?

I have two adult sons, and they have both been so supportive. And, of course, they have friends, communities, and colleagues, and this has been a bit of a whirlwind for them. They are proud, they are grateful, but they’re also themselves, you know? These are things that they strive to live by every day. So, in some sense, I wanted to honor them.

I’m in my sixties now, so I spend most of my time thinking about how I can live in a way that puts wind in the sails of those coming up behind me in the years I have left, certainly as a bishop, and whatever time God gives me on this earth. That’s my most important work now: to encourage rising generations—all of us, really, but particularly those who will live on past my lifetime—to live in hope. To hold on to the things that build community. To work for the things that matter. To trust in God. To believe that there is a spiritual force beyond us that is trustworthy and a source of strength and courage. And these things really, really matter.

People are talking about only part of what you said. And so I want to ask, are there other things in your sermon that you’d like to draw attention to?

I think the whole beginning, which was the idea of: What does unity mean in a country of such diversity and difference? Can this country actually be the United States? That’s an age-old question in America, involving how we have lived through our aspirations and our failures to live up to those aspirations, and the people who call us to live up to them, and the ways we change.

That’s our story, or part of our story, but then we have this other overlay, which I was trying to describe. I think I first heard this phrase from Tim Shriver: the culture of contempt. We are living in a time when we are being socialized to respond to those who disagree with us on anything as if it were the worst possible thing that anyone could possibly think or feel.

And in that culture of contempt, the word “hate” easily falls off our lips. And I’m guilty of this—how easily I find jokes at the expense of other people funny, particularly if I disagree with those people. This has become so normalized. There’s a little bit of that that’s simply human, but when it’s amplified by social media it becomes part of the outrage-industrial complex: “Let me say something that is sure to cause offense, and then just watch everyone explode.” So how can we be mindful of that? How can we transcend that?

But, also, I can understand the sermon would have landed very differently if I had left the last part out. And, in fact, someone actually said to me, “You might want to consider not saying it, given how it will be received.” Someone I really admire, who works in the public arena—someone who is daily trying to uphold our values in the federal government—said to me, “Look, Mariann, you don’t have to go there if you don’t want to.” And I thought about that for a minute, and I thought, Well, but if I don’t?

She suggested, if I was going to do that, “One issue, do one issue.” And so I was focussing on immigration, and I was sharing it with somebody else. But I said to them, “What about what’s being said, particularly about trans kids and the L.G.B.T.Q. and what it’s like for them?” And then another person wrote to me and said, “You know, if there were one thing that I’d ask you to include . . .” So there it was again.

I try not to do this in isolation anymore, because I just need more eyes and ears to help me think this through. And so I was with the director of communications at the Cathedral, a dear friend, Kevin Eckstrom. And I said, “What do you think?” He said, “Yeah, yeah, put it in there.” And he himself is a gay man. And I thought, O.K. I wasn’t speaking in the abstract. These are not stick figures in my head, these are real people, my friends’ children. And so I knew what was going to happen, but if I’d just started with “Mr. President, I’d love to talk to you about your positions on immigration,” that wouldn’t have been appropriate.

“If you really want someone in your circle to hear you, let them overhear you talk to somebody else,” Budde says.

Listening to you, I think about Karl Barth’s famous dictum, about “preaching with the Bible in one hand, and the newspaper in the other.”

I was taught by someone who was taught by Karl Barth, and he was very fond of that expression. I think he even said, “The New York Times in one hand.” I think there are two ways that I believe about that, one very pastoral and the other more public-minded. I had a professor say once—and I believe this with all my heart—that if you know what people are thinking about when they’re coming into church on Sunday morning, it’s very important to acknowledge that. So if something’s happened in your immediate surroundings, the country, or the world and it’s on people's minds, he said, you just need to acknowledge it. That doesn’t mean it can be the topic of your sermon, but somewhere make space for that.

So I believe that, and I honor that to the best of my ability. And, sure, I think it’s important for us. It may not be the newspaper, always, it might be other sources of news. But to trust that Jesus came for the world. Jesus came for the world. It’s the world for which he died. And so to not be mindful of what is happening in places beyond our immediate sphere is a denial of the world that God loves. I’m all in on that one.

You spoke against Trump when he was on the campaign trail and during the Black Lives Matter movement. And I’m wondering if the response you’ve had now is larger than any you’ve had before. Is this a new moment for you?

The only comparison is to the response after the Black Lives Matter protest and the clearing of Lafayette Square. People had been starting to gather at St. John’s, and we were working to make the plaza a kind of resting place, a sanctuary where people could get food and sanitizer and face masks, and you could say a prayer with them, to stand in solidarity with those who were protesting peacefully. All that was being undertaken when this clearing thing happened. So that whole wave of response, both positive and negative, lasted for about four or five days in this same kind of whirlwind. The one difference was that there was a huge number of clergy in the D.C. area that wanted to join me in making a statement. There was this influx of people who said, “We want to go back to the plaza. We want to pray with you there.” And so there was this whole other thing to manage, which got out of hand. And then, like most of these things, the news cycle went on, and it all just went away.

This is day three of this particular cycle. So I can’t tell you if it’s better or worse.

You’ve received an overwhelming number of responses, both positive and negative. In the negative responses, is there a new sense of risk that you’re feeling?

To keep my own sanity, I don’t spend a lot of time reading the comments. But those who have been monitoring them are concerned about the level of violent speech that is embedded in them. But I honestly can’t say if it’s worse. I didn’t read them in 2020, either. Actually, my assistant at the time just said, “Yeah, you’re not reading these. You’re not reading these. You can only read these.” She only gave me the ones that were supportive. But I said, “O.K., what’s the ratio?” And she said, “Oh, it’s about fifty-fifty.”

I don’t know if it’s fifty-fifty here. But the people around me are almost universally concerned. I can’t say whether that’s accurate, or it’s just that there’s a state of fear in the air about the levels of violence in our society. I think there is a case to be made that we have become more violent in our rhetoric, and that there is greater license given to unguarded speech.

You have spoken in a radical and clear way about the root of faith, about what Christianity was, and Jesus’ message was. Do you see yourself in the prophetic tradition? What does bearing radical witness and being part of the religious left, if that’s fair to say, mean to you?

I think you could argue it a couple of ways. I would like to say I was being pretty normal. I don’t think I was saying anything that was all that radical, to be honest. I feel like it was pretty basic. Treat people with dignity, be honest, be humble. Care for your neighbors—not only care for your neighbors but care for the stranger. I mean, this is pretty basic spiritual practice.

Now, is it easy? No, it’s not easy. But you wouldn’t have to be a Christian or a person of faith to espouse those pretty universal values. But we live in a time and we are now led by a President who is, by his own definition, a disrupter. He’s really determined to disrupt the way our society functions. He feels a tremendous mandate to do that. He has a lot of influence. And, at least in his opening few days as President, he is leading the country in the way he promised in the campaign, which is harsh and inflammatory in its assumptions about whole swaths of human beings, and also what it means to be this country. So I would say, both as an American and as a Christian, I’m pretty much right in the center. If it comes across as radical, that just says something about the times we are in.

Of the many insults Trump levelled at you, the idea that your service was “very boring” made me laugh. I thought, well, how many Episcopal services has that man sat through? Because that’s pretty typical.

You know, it makes me laugh, too. To be honest, I find a lot of our services boring. And I try to liven them up a bit, right? I mean, we could always do better. And he’s certainly entitled to his opinion. Do those services go on? They do. There’s a lot of music. There’s a lot of different invocations of prayer. We had a lot of people to include in the service, so I could understand that he was feeling a bit restless. It’s not his preference, I don’t think.

I’ve sat in that very cathedral for several hours at a stretch.

Yeah, they can be long—we love our words.

I kept thinking of what you didn’t have to say, which is that you were a woman in that pulpit in front of a newly resurgent form of Christianity in America—whether we’re talking about conservative evangelicals or we’re talking about this kind of newly muscular Catholic opposition to women in the priesthood. You were ordained in 1989. Is that right?

That’s right.

The Episcopal Church first ordained women in 1974. So for you, being a woman and a priest and now a bishop, have you faced opposition?

Mild opposition; nothing compared to what the first women went through. I came after the hardest, hardest struggles and resistance had occurred. By the time I was elected bishop, there had been several women bishops before. So I would say I was blessed to be among those who benefitted from the ones who had come before me, and I have tried to remember them and honor them and open doors for other people, because doors were opened for me.

It strikes me that one of the aspects of your sermon that’s been missed is how pastoral it was. It was a message of care, and it was spoken with tenderness and humility. As a pastor, do you have advice to people listening to you about how to care for themselves and keep going at this time? How do you care for yourself? How do you keep going?

I think it’s a really good question. When I wrote “How We Learn to Be Brave,” I did feel that there was an internal kind of—well, you know, what Howard Thurman called “the sound of the genuine.” We are not on our own here. We are not isolated from one another. And there is a force at work in the universe that is ultimately for good which we can tap into and which can empower us. For people of faith, we give that very particular names. But even for people who are not there are ways to describe that sense of empowerment that is bigger than we are and can work through us in ways that astonish us. We can’t control it. We can’t evoke it on command, but it’s real, and we can count on it, and it allows all of us to do extraordinary things. When we do it together, then we can move mountains that seemed immovable before. And I do believe that, and I do believe that is the life of faith, but also you don’t have to be a person of faith to trust that innate human capacity to channel love, goodness, and real strength into our own lives and into the world. ♦

[moshpitgamma]

i absolutely adore the way you write viva <333 I’d love to hear your nsfw headcanons ;)

Omggg thank you☺️ and I’ve been thinking bout it for sometime and thank you for FINALLY requesting it🤍🤎

Viva x Reader||NSFW Headcannons

——————————

🌸Viva is totally into overstimulation. She will make you cum about 5 times before she gives you mercy.

🌸This woman is a sneaky fuck and will tease you just to see your baffled reaction.

🌸Viva kinks are hair pulling, edging, bdsm, and overstimulation

🌸She will take any risks she wants to do or you want to try out. If you want to try public sex, she’s all here for it.

🌸Her turn ons are you wearing her clothes, you getting overly excited like her, you giving her physical attention to her hair or face (She is REALLYYYY touch starved)

🌸When it comes to doing the do, she is into semi-sloppy sex. She will want to make a mess of you but wanna make it a little easier to clean up afterwards

🌸Viva is a switch but leans towards topping. If you want to be the top, she will let you, but once she sees you bottoming out, she is flipping y’all over and taking the reigns

🌸She prefers using her mouth and fingers, but when she uses a strap, you’re a loud moaning mess. Y’all can’t tell me she won’t handle a strap like she does it on a regular.

🌸She’s loud when having sex but knows when to be quiet when she has to.

🌸She’s more of a gentle dom but isn’t afraid to be mean when she has to. “Cmon my princess/prince/baby. You can take it, since you’ve been a fucking brat today.”

🌸I headcannon she’s also very flexible so she’s always putting her s/o into some sort of imaginative poses when pounding their guts.

🌸(pretend they have phones) She’s the type to record or take a picture of you while y’all are fucking or she’s giving you head to watch it later when she’s in the mood.

🌸She lovessss when you leave marks or scratch marks on her. She wears them as little trophies from her s/o. But don’t think she won’t mark you right back up.🤫

🌸If you wear anything pink or her type of styled lingerie, she’s gonna have you drugged up on her by the early morning.

🌸Viva can last up to 4-5 rounds because of her high metabolism and her high energy. If you get tired in between SHES giving you 30 minutes to catch your breath and she’s back on you again.

🌸WILL NOT AGREE TO HURT YOU!!! She’s only ok with spanking, but anything else is a hard ass NO!

🌸During the do she is very funny and makes jokes, but keeps it semi-serious if y’all are deep in the mood.

🌸When she’s in the mood she gets more physical and she pays more attention to you and your movements. She will also start grabbing on you and making her kisses more passionate.

🌸Viva keeps herself maintained down there and she’s kinda ok with being bald, but she prefers to have a little maintained bush down there.

🌸She is the queen of aftercare. She’s rubbing your body from the soreness, running a bubble bath, making your favorite snack, bringing you your favorite drink, and if you’re still up she’s cuddling you while watching a Disney movie (Moana or The Princess and the Frog.)

THATSSSS ALLL and I literally wrote this off of 2 hours of sleep and a badass headache so I hope y’all enjoy this☺️😮‍💨GAMMA OUT

[maximoffslilwitchintraining]

Mommy... I mean Wanda 

Part 11👀

Series here: 🎃

Word count: 1k ish i didnt look too close tbh

Summary: i barely remember what i wrote, but theres some smut, some cuddles, some sexting... oh and yelena 🫰🏻which always makes a story better

Do yall have any suggestions for future chapters or yk one shots 👀 just send me a request 😚

Cause frankly this series is getting long and completely lacks plot 😎ahahha help😥

To say you and Wanda got punished for your bratty behaviour would not do it justice.

By the time morning rolled around you were a needy mess. With tears rolling down your cheeks and a bruised ass, you lay begging for a release she was dead set on not giving you. Wanda on the other hand was being refused any touch at all. Which in your opinion may just be worse. Natty may be a cuddly teddy bear with the two of you but when she wants you to suffer she shows no mercy.

You lay cuddled up to Wanda as Nat was off making you all some coffee, trying your hardest to follow her orders of  “keeping it in your pants” while she’s gone. You assumed it wouldn’t hurt for your hand to sneak under Wanda's t-shirt, simply wanting to feel the warmth of her skin. However, with how frustrated she was at this point when your hand rested on her stomach she let out a moan. A moan you were certain Nat would’ve heard from the kitchen. When she returned she held two steaming cups of coffee and one of tea. She also held a smirk that said she knew but would be letting it slip just this once. If you’d known that you would have gone for Wanda’s boobs instead. For a while, you simply sat there enjoying your hot beverage between your girlfriends, just soaking it all in.

That bliss was only interupted when an alarm went off on your phone.

“UGh just turn it off” you grunted slipping further down and into the sheets. Nat obliged and reached for the phone, being the one closest to it. Once the alarm went quiet she sat still looking at it.

“Baby, why does it say you have class in 30 min?” Nat asked turning back to you.

“It’s fine I can skip this one.”

“Not a chance, come on get dressed.” Wanda grabbed your cup putting it on the nightstand.

“ I really don't want to leaveee” Yes you sounded like a child whining like that, but there was no way you’d leave this bed, to go and listen to some boring lecture.

“Y/N behave. I know it's hard but how about we pick you up after class and go do something fun?” 

Nat pulled you out of bed, giggling at how your legs were all wobbly still.

“Aww, poor baby, did daddy leave you all fucked out?” You felt yourself getting needy at those words, you just wished she’d bend you over right there and not stop pounding you til you came all over her strap. But instead, you were left walking on shaky legs and wincing as you pulled your jeans over your very sore butt. Which the two women found very amusing as they watched comfortably from the shared bed.

“Can I at least get a kiss before I leave?” You said with a pout. Nat simply gestured for you to come over. She gave you a soft kiss before Wanda pulled you into her arms. She kisses you deeply, ending with a peck on your cheek, that leaves you wishing for much more.

“Now go be my good girl and study hard yeah?” You nodded gleefully at that. Wandas praise washing away some of your grumpiness.

You rode on that happiness all the way to Yelena's car. Thankfully she was also late.

“So how come you were around here so early?” Yelena usually spent most of her time on campus in your shared flat. 

“Mmm, I may have stayed at Kate’s place last night.” She mumbled keeping her eyes on the road.

“Oh my god, Yelena!” A big grin appeared on the blonde's face and that was honestly all you needed.

“So tell me?! How’d it go? Did you… you know?” 

“ Y/N!” She blushed. You laughed knowing that was a yes. 

“So does this mean we can go on double dates now?” You said as the car came to a stop in the university parking lot.

“And watch you drool over my sister for an hour? No thanks.” 

The class dragged on and although you attempted to take notes, you spent most of your time squirming to find a comfortable position to sit in. About an hour in,  the class was doing discussions and you saw it as a chance to sneak out for a quick break. You locked yourself in the bathroom and pulled out your phone.

Y/N: on a quick bathroom break, I’m assuming you’re still in bed?

Nat:( sent you an image)

You could not have opened it faster. It was a photo of the two, Wanda's shirt long gone and her breasts in full view. Your eyes take in the sight of your mommy's body. Her legs were spread and Nat's hand was inside her shorts. You so badly wanted to remove them. to see every movement of her fingers as they pleasured Wandas pussy.

Nat: are you alone?

Y/N: yes x

Nat: Mommy and Daddy would love to see how wet you get just thinking about what we’re doing

Wanda: Please baby be a good girl and show us

You thought about it for a second before pulling your jeans down and taking a short video of you running your fingers through your folds, showing just how much you needed them.

Wanda: such a good girl. why don't rub your clit for Mommy? 

You do as you are told and start touching yourself. just in time for another message to arrive, this time a video. Nat is holding the phone and is showing you a close-up of Wanda as she slowly sinks down on Nat's strap. you could honestly come just at the sight of that. 

Nat: Make daddy proud and cum for us baby girl 

A couple more brushes over your clit and the sound of Wanda moaning paired with wet noises of her pussy being slammed down on nats cock and you finally came. Shaking with pleasure after the amount of teasing you had endured. Once you are able to breathe normally, you pick up the phone to send them a text.

Y/N: I may have made a mess all over my jeans

Wanda: oh poor baby, did mommy getting fucked make you all stupid? No worries honey we’ll come to get you and how about you let Mommy clean up all that wetness on the way home? I’m dying to have a taste ;)

[dalekofchaos]

If Chloe was the villain of Life Is Strange

I remember games like Silent Hill, Portal and Bully where your friend or trusted figure turns out to be the villain and I can't help but wonder what Life Is Strange would look like if Chloe Price was the villain. So this is an au I put together about said scenario.

My way of doing this is to turn Chloe into a possessive Yandere that uses their nostalgic friendship to use Max to do what she wants. Max's journey from the beginning of the game is to build the confidence that she does get throughout the game we know and love, only this time she acknowledges the friendship with Chloe is toxic and can walk away. We'd also see characters like Kate, Warren, and Joyce telling Max that there is something off about Chloe.

But to change it so Chloe is the actual killer, Chloe finds Rachel’s crumbled up letter and acts irrationally, broken hearted and this leads her in killing Rachel in a jealous rage. Chloe later finds out Rachel was involved with Nathan, Frank and Jefferson and pledges to kill them all. Then one day, Max comes back and tells Chloe about the storm and her powers. Chloe is gonna get her revenge and she’ll have Max to herself(in a very yandere way)

She’ll first kill Frank because he threatens Max, when we go to interrogate Frank as we do in canon. Chloe antagonizes Frank to the point where Frank pulls a knife on Max and then Chloe shoots Frank. Then get back at Nathan for trying to daterape her, as Max goes to the party, Chloe goes back to the dorm and when Nathan is in his dorm room, Chloe doses Nathan and then gives Nathan an overdose of pills.

Since Jefferson isn't the killer, at worse he's just a pervert who preys on teenage girls. They found the dark room where he develops his pervy pictures. Nothing more, nothing less. He uses the everyday hero contest as a means to collect new subjects and had plans for Max. Chloe found the perfect scapegoat and the perfect excuse to kill the man Rachel wrote about.

As they are getting to find Jefferson. Chloe suddenly vanishes and leaves Max to Jefferson’s mercy as Max acts like the bait, and then bam, Chloe shoots him from behind and Max faints due to seeing someone die in front of her. While Max is still out, Chloe takes her to the dark room.

Max is relieved to see Chloe, but sees that she’s tied up. Chloe explains everything. She saw an opportunity to get back at everyone who has turned her life into shit. Rachel for cheating on her and the men she cheated on her with and Max’s doomsday gave Chloe an out on all the debt, the abuse from David and how Joyce ruined their lives. Chloe and Max can start fresh without Arcadia Bay. "I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted Arcadia to turn to glass, and you gave me the perfect way to bring my dream to reality" Max is horrified with everything she’s hearing, asks what about her friends and Chloe uncaringly says “I just can’t let anyone but me be in your life, sorry Max but they’re going down with the storm, no tea dates or going ape for you, shakah brah. Funny thing, when I saw how you lived a life at Blackwell without contacting me, I just couldn't take it. I persuaded your precious Kate to go to that Vortex party, I just couldn't believe she would go viral….if only you let her jump. And Warren, I wanted him dead since that phone call about "Going Ape", but the storm will take care of that, you are mine Max” and Max calls her a monster and throws back all the gaslighting and abuse she’s thrown her way and all Chloe can say is “you’ll forgive me after the storm is over, don’t worry, no matter what you’re mine Max,” Then Max has had enough. and has a very Todd like callout. "Chloe, just stop. You are all the things that's wrong with you. You chose to be bitter, insecure and jealous about Rachel. It isn't William's death, or the abuse, David or Joyce, the drugs or the debt. It's you. You chose to be this way. You chose to manipulate me with our past and abuse me if you didn't get your way. You chose to kill Rachel and you became a monster and I'd rather die than continue being your friend. I should've done this when you blew up at me about taking Kate's phone call, but I am done with you, fuck you Chloe."

Chloe did not like that one bit. She angrily takes out her gun and prepares to kill Max.

She's stopped when David arrives.

Chloe knew he’d be there and hides and when David opens the door, Chloe blows his head off. Max has a choice.

Stay in this very abusive relationship and hope she can make her better after the storm glasses Arcadia Bay or rewind and help David stop Chloe.

Stay.

Max tells Chloe everything she wants to hear. That she's sorry that she didn't contact Chloe all those years, that she's right about everything and that she needs Chloe and as much as she needs Max. Chloe puts the gun down and hugs Max, but tells her "don't you dare think of standing up to me like that again, but it's okay. We're going to leave this ugliness all behind and start all over, it will be just like when we were kids, but better. I'll be better Max, I promise" They drive off to the Lighthouse just to watch the destruction of Arcadia Bay.

Chloe looks on the destruction with satisfaction and wonder, while Max looks horrified. Chloe kisses Max in the chaos of the storm. "Now you're all mine Max"

They drive off. Max looking uncertain with a tinge of fear in her eyes while Chloe has so much in store for their new lives.

Rewind

David subdues or kills Chloe and Max goes to the diner.

Max tells Warren everything. He believes her and he's proud he stood up to Chloe and survived that awful relationship. Max kisses him for being the real person who stood by her side and she's sorry she didn't see it sooner.

Max doesn't know what she should do about the storm and Warren advises Max to use the picture they took, and have the two of them make it to the lighthouse while David arrests Chloe.

But during the nightmare, it isn't Max who's trying to convince Max her choices were bad, it's Chloe.

She berates Max and tells her what a bad friend she was to her. Gaslights her and uses their memories as a means to manipulate her(yeah the memory lane bit is not a happy thing, it's nostalgia meant to control Max) but outcomes Kate and Warren to bring Max out of this cycle of abuse and for the last time, Max rejects Chloe.

So Max goes back in time and instead of just letting Nathan kill Chloe, she warns Nathan not to go into the girls bathroom and leaves the evidence for David about Rachel's death and David is the one waiting for her in the girl's bathroom to apprehend Chloe. Max also leaves a trail of bread crumbs leading to the arrests of Nathan, Jefferson and Frank.

Max is sad of what Chloe became, but she's free and she's moved on with her life and it ends with a montage of Max having a teadate with Kate and Going Ape with Warren