#but inspiration struck and it was such a short one to throw together

[gravity-what]

I see portrayals of betrayal

And a brother's final stand

I see you on the brink of death

I see you draw your final breath

I see a man who gets to make it home alive

But it's no longer you

Listening to the Epic Musical and, well “No Longer You” really inspired me so enjoy Chase having to face off against a Sphinx and being forced to confront his future.

Enjoy!

[runawrites-blog]

Shipping (Charles Xavier x Reader)

Summary: You're a teacher at Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters and you're quite close to Charles -- so close that a few of the students have started speculating whether or not you two are actually a couple. (Female Reader) Word Count: 3,646 Warnings: Very Minor Suggestive Themes. Light Angst. No Y/N. Reader has a last name that goes with her powers but it's only mentioned once or twice. A/N: As mentioned, the reader has a last name that correlates with her powers/mutation. Her name is Brandt (inspired by the German word Brand for fire) since she has pyrokinetic powers. But it's only mentioned once or twice by the students.

“You two are being ridiculous.”

“We’re not being ridiculous!” Jubilee defended herself, leaning over the back of the couch to throw Jean a joking glare. “Look at how cute they’re being!”

Jean gave Jubilee one more annoyed look before turning to where the other girl was pointing, her eyes falling on you and Charles at the other side of the large sitting room. She took the two of you in for a second; how Charles was looking back at you periodically with a bright smile on his face and how you were leaning over the back of his chair, a hand firmly planted on his shoulder as you looked at the files he was currently going over. She turned turned back to Jubilee and Ororo.

“See?” Ororo grinned a little and leaned back in the armchair. “Miss Brandt and the Professor are totally banging.”

“Ororo!” Jubilee exclaimed in disgust. “I wanted to prove to Jean that Miss Brandt and Professor Xavier are in love, not that they are sleeping with each other. As a matter of fact, I don’t want to hear anything about that!”

That’s when Scott piped up, raising an eyebrow at Jubilee. “To be fair, if they were dating, don’t you think they’d be sleeping with each other?”

“You two don’t have to make this gross.”

Jean quickly nodded at that. “I agree with Jubilee.”

“Really?”

“Not about the dating, but about Scott and Ororo being gross.” Jean leaned back on the couch, closing her book in her lap. “Just because they’re friendly doesn’t mean they’re dating, Jubilee. They’re probably just good friends.”

That’s when Kurt spoke up, a smile on his lips. “I think the idea of them being a couple is sweet. They seem like they would make a nice couple.”

“You too, Kurt?”

“I’m not entirely sure, though!” He quickly defended himself. “I just said it would be cute if they were together.”

Scott nodded. “I agree with that. They’d be a good couple but I agree with Jean on this one, I think. Just because they’re nice to each other, doesn’t mean they’re a couple.”

Jean nodded quickly and picked her book back up. “Now can you let me do my reading for Miss Brandt’s class? I don’t want to mess up on the test.”

“What test?”

“The test we’re traking next week about the Napoleonic Wars.” Jean explained off-handedly. “I’m currently reading the chapter in my History book and I would love for all of you to let me study.”

Kurt nodded at that. “I read the chapter yesterday and trust me, you should all start soon, as well. It’s a pretty long chapter. I could help you study if you want me to.”

“Thanks. I can’t really start now because lunch break is almost over, but I’ll take you up on that offer another time.” Scott said to Kurt before rising to his feet. “What class do we have now? Literature or Physics?”

“Literature.” Jubilee commented and grabbed her bag from the couch. “With none other than Miss Brandt, so maybe we can get some clues on her relationship with the Professor now!”

“You just want to find it out to prove you’re right, don’t you?”

“Exactly!”

All of them stopped when the clock struck two and everyone started to slowly leave the sitting room to get to class. Jubilee grinned a little as she watched Charles turn to you with a soft smile before placing his hand on top of yours for a few seconds. He gave it a short squeeze before he wheeled himself out from behind the desk and toward the door. Most days, the desks were used by students but Hank had asked Charles to review a file he had typed up and the telepath had asked you to look over it with him during lunch break.

You gave him one last smile before slinging your bag over your shoulder and grabbing the two boxes of books you were going to use for your class. Jean watched from the doors, waiting for her friends to get her belongings, as you struggled to carry both of the boxes. But before she could offer her help Charles called out your name, making you look up from the boxes to face him. He was looking back at you with his arms outstretched, smiling softly.

“Let me help you, Darling.”

“Thank you.” You smiled and handed one of the boxes to him, watching as he placed it on his lap before he made his way to the door. “We’re starting with a new book today.”

“I can see that.” Charles laughed and leaned his head back to look at you. “Didn’t you once mention that you loved Mary Shelley’s writing? What a lovely concidence that one of her books is on the curriculum, isn’t it?”

A smile appeared on your face as you stopped in your tracks. “Did you put it on there? You get to decide between three books for each new chapter of the curriculum, don’t you? I think you’ve mentioned that once.”

“I might have.”

“You’re the sweetest, Charles.”

“For you, always.”

Not wanting to intrude, Jean quickly followed her friends out the sitting room and to her class, though now she was actually contemplating on how much truth there was to Jubilee’s suspiciouns about your relationship with Charles.

---

As the days passed, Jean started to believe in Jubilee’s suspicions more and more as she watched how you and Charles interacted. She had never really paid much attention to it but now she was questioning how she’d never before noticed your gentle smiles, sweet nicknames, casual touches and quiet conversations. But what really got Jean hooked on the idea of finding out about whether or not the rumours were true, was what happened one rainy Friday evening.

It was late and some of the younger students were already asleep while Jean was studying with Jubilee and Ororo. There was a slight drizzle going outside as they hunched over their History books and notes from class. They were pretty engulfed in their studying when the earthquake started, making everything in the room rattle and shake. Jubilee nearly fell off the bed but Jean caught her and Ororo clung to the headboard.

But fortunately, the earthquake quickly stopped and the three of them got off the bed to venture to the hallway to see what had happened -- though Jean was pretty sure it was the new student with geokenesis that must have accidentally started the erathquake. Just as they stepped into the hallway, along with a few others students, you and Charles did the same. And the three girls froze when they realised that both of you had come from his room.

Jubilee turned to give Jean a grin but she wasn’t even looking at her, too caught up in watching you hurry after Charles, smoothing out your hair while you made your way to the young boy’s room. Before you could even knock he opened the door and upon seeing Charles, grabbed onto the armrests of his chair, beginning to apologise profusely. Charles reacted in his usual gentle and comforting manner, calming the boy down and checking whether or not he was injured.

It took a few minutes to calm him down but eventually Charles had convinced him that everyone was fine and there was no need for him to feel guilty. And after a few checkups on the other students, Charles proclaimed that they should all get back to their rooms. Jean ushered Ororo and Jubilee back into her room. But once inside Ororo stopped her from closing the door, pointing at you and Charles in the hallway. Jubilee and Jean looked at each other for a second before leaning over to see what their friend was talking about.

“Are you alright?” Charles asked once the last door had closed, giving you a worried once over and reaching out to take your hand into his. “I saw you hit your head on the nigthstand when you fell off my bed. Are you hurt, Darling?”

“I’m fine.” You gave him a reassuring smile before gently cradling his hand in both of yours. “Shall we get back to your room?”

Charles shook his head, bringing his other hand up to cup yours. “May I check? I promise you I will only check if you’re alright. I wouldn’t want to overlook a possible concussion. You did hit the nightstand pretty hard.”

With a relenting smile you nodded and gave his hand a small squeeze. “If it makes you feel better you can.”

While Charles placed his fingers on his temple and you held his hand tightly, Jubilee gave Jean one more triumpanth smirk. Ororo was still staring at you and Charles, completely amazed by the fact that her and Jubilee had apparently been right. And Jean crossed her arms over her chest, still not fully convinced.

“I mean, I worry about my friends, too.” The rehead reasoned softly. “That time you got hurt during dodgeball, I checked you for a concussion, too.”

“They’re literally holding hands.”

Ororo turned and placed a finger over her lips as you and Charles began to move down the hallway back to his room, now that he had confirmed you were uninjured. The three girls watched as you two arrived at Charles’ door and you glanced down the hallway once more, checking if everyone was in their rooms. Then Charles used the controls of his wheelchair to back into his room while grabbing your hand and pulling you along. You gave a surprised laugh at that and Charles smirked charmingly. And then the two of you were gone and the door to his room once more closed.

“How is that not obviously them going to do something nasty now? He literally pulled her into his room.”

“You really overuse that word.”

“What word?”

“’Literally’.” Jean answered. “Maybe they’re going over something from class.”

“You just don’t want to be in the wrong.” Ororo laughed quietly as she looked up at Jean. “They both came from the Professor’s room, looking disheveled and in their nightwear. Just now he said she’d been on his bed with him when the quake started. And she went back to his room.”

“You’re right. That kind of proves you two right.”

“Kind of?”

---

Now that Jean agreed with Ororo and Jubilee, the girls had made it their mission to find out whether or not they were right. Scott was still not convinced and Kurt kept telling them that while you and Charles would make a sweet couple it was invasive to talk about their teachers like that. His complaints did not stop his friends.

As the next few days days went on, they kept looking for clues. Jubilee kept going on about how much you and Charles were casually touching while Ororo’s main focus was the fact that he kept calling you petnames to which Scott shut her down by telling her that their professor called everyone petnames – they had to agree with him on that one.

Then Thanksgiving break rolled along and most of the students left to visit home. That year Jean, Jubilee, Ororo, Kurt and Scott had all decided to stay behind at the mansion along with a handful of other students. And due to this decreased amount of students at the school, most teachers were leaving over the holidays, as well – safe for Hank, Charles and you. It was really the perfect time for the friends to find out if they were right with their suspicions.

It was on a cold autumn day that Ororo had decided they needed to keep an eye on you and Charles, mostly because she had noticed that you were most definitely wearing one of his favourite cardigans to ward off the chill. That gave them enough incentive to use the rest of the day to try to decide which of them was right once and for all. Eventually, evening rolled along and you and Charles hadn’t acted any different around each other than usual, so the friends gave up and headed back to their rooms. That was until a storm rolled in only an hour later, bringing with it cold winds and chilly rain, prompting the friends to go to the sitting room and warm up by the fire.

“I can’t believe you still don’t believe us.” Jean commented as she walked down the hallway toward the stairs so they could go down to the sitting area. “And would you hurry up so we can warm up by the fire? It’s so cold today.”

Scott shrugged at that. “I can’t believe they managed to convince you.”

“You didn’t see the way they interacted after the earthquake.” Ororo scoffed as she hurried after them. “She was literally coming out of his room, looking dishevelled and he talked about how she’d been in his bed. And then he kept calling her ‘darling’ and fussing over her before literally pulling her back into his room.”

“You use the word ‘literally’ too much.”

Jean chuckled at Scott’s comment. “I told her that, too.”

Jubilee shrugged a little. “That doesn’t mean she’s not right. She’s been wearing his cardian all day.”

“It’s cold.”

Kurt perked up at that. “Actually, I’m pretty sure Miss Brandt has been wearing the Professor’s cardigans for the whole week now.”

“You too, Kurt?”

“As I said, I think they might make a sweet couple.” Kurt commented before frowning a little. “But should we really be this invasive?”

“We should if it proves us right.” Ororo smirked.

“I just worry that this much snooping around will make them angry at us.” Kurt mumbled before looking at his telekenetic friend. “Also, Jean, why are we going to the sitting room? I’m pretty sure the fire went out hours ago.”

“I can fire it back up.”

Scott was the first to start and decent the stairs. But as soon as he got halfay down – and with that in eyesight of the sitting room – he stopped dead in his tracks, making Ororo collide with his back. She reared up to confront him about stopping but Scott put a finger to his lips and pointed at the open doors. Kurt leaned past Scott and quieted down immediately while Jubilee smacked her hand in front of her mouth to keep from making any sounds. Jean leaned forward and her mouth fell open.

At the end of the sitting room, by the fireplace sat none other than you and Charles, cuddled up on the sofa under a blanket. And the two of you were kissing. He was cupping your face, his fingers gently and lovingly stroking your face while yours were buried in his hair, tenderly raking over his scalp. Ororo turned to Scott and pointed a victorious finger at him but he was too busy watching as you leaned back against the arm of the sofa and Charles followed quickly to deepen the kiss, not wanting to part from it just yet.

Eventually, the two of you parted and Charles leaned his forehead against yours, earning himself a small smile and a chaste peck on his lips as you looked back at him. Your hands wandered down to the side of his face where you began to stroke his skin, making a smile appear on his face. He leaned into your touch, turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand.

“Feeling a bit warmer now, my love?” Charles said softly, a bright smile appearing on his lips as you nodded in agreement. “I did promise to warm you up.”

“And you did a wonderful job at that, sweetheart.” You said in amusement, hand sliding down his neck to rest on his shoulder. “I feel very warm and very loved thanks to you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Charles whispered, his smile faltering a little. “I do hate to see you cold and anxious about your memories, my darling. I know you’ve told me about your past many times but the thought of you being left out in the snow in an attempt to cure your pyrokinesis still upsets me terribly and makes me angry.”

“Don’t be, please.” You replied, leaning your forhead against his. “I’m here now and I’m safe. You make me feel safe, Sweetheart. Safe and warm.”

“That’s good.”

“You’re not cold either, are you?” You inquired in concern. “I know that you get cold easily and I also want to help you stay warm, especially since I pretty much stole all your cardigans.”

Charles laughed softly, obviously touched by your concern before pressing another quick kiss to your lips. “I’m fine, my love. It’s very warm in here and besides, I have you next to me to warm me up.”

“We could go upstairs and I could properly warm you up.”

“Later.” Charles promised before sitting back and stretching out his arm in invitation. “Stay by the fire with me a little longer, would you?”

“I’d love nothing more than that.”

With that, you leaned up to capture his lips in a kiss again but this time Charles didn’t reciprocate, instead pulling back and furrowing his brows. That got you to look up at him in concern, the hand you had placed on his shoulder tightening as you frowned.

“What’s wrong, Charles? Did I do something wrong?”

“You did nothing wrong, love.” Charles said softly before his voice took on an amused tone. “But we’re not alone anymore.”

With that, he turned toward the door and subsequently the staircase, making you follow his gaze. The students froze where they were standing. While Kurt worried about you two being angry, Jean flushed at being spotted and Ororo gave a small wave. Scott looked away awkwardly and a wide grin spread across Jubilee’s face. But regardless of their reactions, all of them slowly made their way into the sitting room. By the time they were close by, you and Charles were sitting up straight again, turned so you could properly face the students. Charles looked pretty amused and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at the situation.

“Now, my dears, how long have you been watching us?”

“We haven’t been watching you!” Kurt defended himself but quickly faltered as he realised that that wasn’t entirely true. “I mean, we sort of did but only for a few minutes.”

“We wanted to come into the sitting room to warm up and you two were sort of smooching on the sofa.” Ororo explained, waving at you and Charles on the couch.

“Smooching.” Scott snorted before shaking his head. “But they’re right. We’ve only been standing there for a minute or two.”

You shook your head in amusement, unable to keep a small laugh from escaping you as she watched their concerned faces. “Don’t worry now. You’re not in any trouble if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“That’s a relief.” Jean said with a small smile. “We worried about that.”

“You two are such a sweet couple, Miss Brandt!” Jubilee suddenly exclaimed, smiling brightly at you and Charles. “And you look really happy together. It’s so good you’re finally together.”

“We are happy.” Charles confirmed, reaching out to take your hand into his. “But we have been in a relationship for a long time. Honestly, I was under the impression that it was fairly obvious.”

“At least we haven’t been keeping it a secret.” You threw in before shrugging. “But then again, we aren’t overly affectionate in the presence of our students. That would hardly be professional.”

“So you’ve been dating for a while now?”

“Yes, we’ve kept it professional but we haven’t been trying to keep it a secret.” Charles explained before nodding toward the fire. “Now, if you still want to warm up, you can find yourself a place to sit. The fire is shrinking now but I’m sure my lovely darling can stoke the flames a bit.”

At his words, you stood from the couch before walking over to the huge fireplace and using your powers to stoke the flames. Then you returned to your place next to Charles and leaned back against his side.

“So tell me, what have you kids been up to all day? I barely saw any students out and about today.” You mused as you looked around. “Where you in town or in your rooms?”

“We were in our rooms.” Scott explained, pulling his legs up onto the armchair. “We thought of going into town but--”

“But we got distracted arguing about whether or not you two were dating.” Jubilee joked, looking up at you from her spot on the carpet. “We were about to start a betting pool at this point.”

“A betting pool?” Charles laughed and shook his head. “Were you really that interested in whether or not we were a couple?”

“A lot of the other students were speculating, too.” Jean defended herself but relaxed when she saw you and Charles laughing at the situation. “The pool was Jubilee’s idea.”

Jubilee nodded in agreement before her eyes widened and she laughed. “You’re like the school’s parents now. X-Mom and X-Dad.”

“Interesting superhero names, for sure.” You chuckled and looked at Charles. “You can bet I will call you X-Dad from now on whenever you act parental.”

“Thank you for that, Jubilee.” Charles said in amusement, his arm pulling you closer as he looked back at you. “But while I don’t think you were being too invasive, I’d like to ask you all to respect our privacy. We want to keep everything professional.”

“Of course.” Jean nodded. “I’m sorry that we were so nosy and invasive.”

“There is no harm done, Jean. Everything’s alright.”

“I can’t believe you were right.” Scott joked. “I guess I was just oblivious.”

Ororo nodded and looked at Jean. “And you called us ridiculous.”

“I guess I got proven wrong.”

[sweetimpurity]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ day 4 yayayay! I'm having such a blast you guys I'm so deprived and horny and I'm glad you all indulge me hehe ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ wc: 1k

cw: masterbation, p0rn, afab masterlist>> ˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊

“God…” You sigh, eyes scanning over your phone screen and biting the edge of your thumbnail. You just got up from a rare afternoon nap, hoping to answer some emails but now you’re way off track. Seems you’ve wound up on a darker side of twitter. You were just scrolling through it mindlessly while procrastinating something else. A seemingly harmless thread turned softcore porn. And not just those models trying to get you to click on risky links or promote something. It’s one of those threads you bookmark for later, knowing you’ve struck a little sliver of gold. Men with thick arms and pretty big dicks. Not as big as your boyfriend though. And the women seem to bend and flex in such erotic ways. Throwing their heads back and gasping in pleasure. 

Your boyfriend stirs beside you in bed. Turning over slightly and nuzzling his face in the pillows. You freeze, trying not to wake him up. He has no problem with you watching porn. And vice versa. You've talked about it before. You've actually watched porn together before. That feeling of watching two other people going at it. Risky and taboo. That naughtiness adding to the fucking that follows. Like it's something you shouldn't be doing. Something to get in trouble for. Maybe he touches you during it, maybe you touch him. Either way it's hot and inspirational at the same time.

But you don't want to wake him up after he finally settled down to rest on his day off. He works so hard and he's been so drained.

Once he stops moving, you keep scrolling. Eye’s landing on a specific video that makes your face feel hot. A dull ache in your core and fluttery in your tummy. Prone bone style and the woman’s head tilted back to kiss her partner's lips. Tender yet dirty at the same time. His hips jutting into her again and again against the plush flesh of her ass. You know what that feels like. It’s amazing. You want that but the only person to give you that is sound asleep. 

You sigh, leaning back and laying your head against the pillows. Should you? Shouldn’t you? You just can’t resist. 

Glancing at the pornographic display on your phone screen, you hand snakes down under the covers, slipping under the waistband of your shorts and your underwear. Feeling the slick that’s collected there. Sticky on the cotton. Biting down hard on your lip and swirling your fingers around your puffy clit, you have to hold back the sounds that threaten to spill. It feels so good. It would feel better if it was Miguel’s fingers though. 

Your mind drifts. Miguel’s fingers, his arms, his shoulders, his back. His back with scratches from your fingernails, his neck with marks from your teeth. His voice, his eyes, his nose, his cock. How he feels buried deep inside and the way he overwhelms every sense until you're nothing but a puddle on the mattress. It’s all flooding your mind the way you pulse against your fingers. Pumping two fingers in but you just can’t reach deep enough. Not as deep as he can. 

“Mig…” You can’t help but sigh so softly. Almost silently, almost like a breath of his name. His body, his face, his voice in your mind playing like a movie. Gasping silently and rubbing your clit faster and faster wishing for that release. For that feeling only he can give you. 

His mind is on fire. His body aflame. Watching you like this. You must think he’s still asleep but he’s been awake a few minutes now. He saw you watching the porn, saw exactly what it was. The position, the theatrics of it all. His naughty girl. Grinning and watching you from where his head rests on the pillow. Hearing you quietly sigh his name even when it’s not his hands touching you. Watching you pleasure yourself, you were watching porn and you’re still thinking of him? Fuck…

It’s like his own personal porno. Watching the one he loves like this. And the fact that you’re not really aware. But you’re doing it right next to him so who’s fault is that really? His dark eyes flick over your neck as your head tilts back against the pillows. Soft pleads passing your lips. “Please please please… hmph…” 

It’s frustrating that you can’t get there. Maddening. Huffing and pouting. Closing your eyes and trying to focus but you’re tensing, trying to make it happen now. 

A fluff of the blankets and confrontation of the cold brings your eyes to open. Blowing wide and watching Miguel shove the blankets off. Revealing your naughty act taking place underneath, your knees instantly drawing together. “Miguel!” You practically scream in a gasp. You swear he was asleep two seconds ago and now this… he…

“Keep going, mami…” He hums, scooting closer to you, his big hand coming to pull your legs apart. His eyes trained on the valley of your thighs to your puffy pussy and little fingers trying to make yourself come. Trying so damn hard. It’s adorable. His arm wraps around your thigh so you can’t close your legs again. Pushing up on his elbow to get a better view. Your mind is just melting at the situation. 

“I…I can’t…” Your cheeks flush and you sigh, feeling hopeless and now he’s watching you? “You can, sweet girl… just relax…” He hums, turning his head to look in your eyes. Your clit positively vibrates at the way he looks in your eyes. “Keep going... you're so fucking hot like this…” He groans. Turning to look at your fingers plunging back inside. Trying so hard. Interchangeably pumping your fingers inside and rubbing your clit, making your legs shake. Your eyes close to focus and he notices. Letting you close them because it will keep you relaxed. And this isn’t about you watching him watch you. This is about him watching you rub your little clit until you come. 

He’s watching you finger yourself. And encouraging you to go faster, go deeper, watching like he’s critiquing your work. You’d have thought yourself humiliated by a situation like this. That seems like what the natural reaction would be. But this… he seems so focused and entertained by your impending orgasm.

There’s something about this. He didn’t expect to feel this way. With his ego, watching his girl get off like she doesn’t even need him for it. Make’s him crazy. Stirs something inside him. 

And as you come, he can’t help but reach over, dipping one of his long thick fingers into you along with your two little fingers trying so hard to reach deep. A rasping moan leaving your lips and gushing from the added pressure, slick coating his knuckles and dribbling down his palm. He can't let you come without getting a little taste for himself...

Taglist:

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@mrs-pondwater19 @saintdiior @aphinthestars

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[humanpurposes]

I Have Always Been A Storm, Part 3

Read the full chapter on AO3 // Main Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x Floris Baratheon

In the year 128AC, Floris Baratheon weds Aemond Taragryen, a daughter and a son both driven to duty, now bound to each other when the realm is on the brink of war. Floris is enamoured by the Prince, but love is something she can only hope will bloom once her vows have been said before the eyes of the Seven- AU where Aemond and Floris marry before the Dance of the Dragons.

Warnings: 18+, smut, pregnancy, arranged marriage, canon divergence, angst, possibly quite a lot of angst, hurt/comfort

A/n: I watched episode 2 and went... yeah he needs an emotional support wife <3

I don’t flinch at the sound of steel. I stand steadfast on the outlook over the yard, my hair loose about my shoulders, my gown one of Baratheon black and gold. The clouds over King’s Landing this morning are heavy and ominous. I could almost imagine I am back at Storm’s End, watching the knights spar in the courtyard before the drum tower.

Aemond is a graceful fighter, but brutal and precise. He has no taste for tourneys, he does not fight for performance. He parries and deflects the blows from Ser Arryk’s sword with ease, then once he finds an opening he makes short work of disarming his opponent, forcing him to his knees and placing the blade against his throat. 

The closeness between Aemond and I ebbs and flows. As of late we are making good progress; I’ve been watching his morning sparring sessions for the last few weeks. Afterwards we’ll retire to his chambers and take luncheon together before we part ways until the evening. Last night we dined with the Queen, and having returned me to my chambers, he kissed me. 

He does not smile when he looks up at me from the yard. His expression is gentle and not quite passive. He says I am a good wife. He says he is content to have me by his side, and yet he leaves me to an empty bed each night. I keep waiting for the moment he’ll decide we are ready to fulfil our vows. In the meantime I despair that I am no different from any girl at the Red Keep who dreams of a handsome husband and a perfect marriage which is not yet in reach. At least Helaena has her children to keep her occupied; I might as well be unmarried. 

Aemond and Ser Arryk take their positions again.

Aemond lurches forward to strike first. His opponent meets him with swift, succinct blocks, but Aemond is eager to match him in speed. There’s a stiffness in his shoulders as he moves, but he must keep his head in the right position, he must not let his blindspot leave him vulnerable to an attack.

I catch glimpses of his face as he moves, his lips pressed together, his single eye dark and determined.

A nervous feeling flutters in my belly.

A small crowd has gathered to watch them, nobles, other knights, servants, looking upon my husband with both admiration and fear– I feel a sense of pride in the awe Aemond inspires. 

Suddenly he falters.

Ser Arryk takes the opportunity to disarm him, but Aemond is not one to concede easily. He draws the knife on his belt, ducking to avoid Ser Arryk’s blows, until he’s close enough to aim the knife at the knight’s throat. 

Ser Arryk anticipates this and drops his sword, fighting with his hands to keep some distance between Aemond’s knife and his skin. The crowd is anxious now. The slashes of Aemond’s knife are too close. I dig my nails into my palms to stop myself from reacting too obviously.

Ser Arryk grabs Aemond’s right wrist with his left hand, and throws a fist towards the left side of his face– his blind side. 

I feel the impact as if I’ve been struck in the stomach.

Aemond freezes, dropping his knife. He covers his face with his hands. There is no blood that I can see but my heart races. 

I’m halfway down the steps before I realise what I’m doing. 

Ser Arryk is horrified with himself, trying to offer some help to the Prince, only for Aemond to push him away. Servants gather, unsure of what to do, hovering around him like he is a wounded beast. 

I push people out of my way so I can reach him. I place a hand over his, where he cradles his eyepatch. His breathing is quick and heavy, his hand is shaking under my palm.

I whisper, “I’m here.”

He tugs at my sleeve, a bruising grip sinking through the fabric and into my skin, around my very bones. He leans into me, his forehead pressing against the top of my head. “I’m fine,” he grits through his teeth.

“My Lady,” Ser Arryk begins, “I’m sorry– I must have acted out of impulse– I–”

“Fetch a maester,” I order.

“Not necessary,” Aemond says.

Ser Arryk hesitates.

“Fetch a maester!”

“No!” Aemond says, suddenly straightening his back and releasing me from his hold. My heart sinks at the sight of his scar, flared, red, angry. He keeps his fists clenched by his sides, denying himself the pain. “That will be all, Ser Arryk, I shall retire to my chambers.”

He marches off and I trail helplessly behind.

Full chapter on AO3

[drewharrisonwriter]

One Day at a Time - Ch. 3: A Busy Day

Pairings: Dave York x Female Reader

Series Summary: A man washed ashore, with no memory, and no name, finds a home and a life in the middle of nowhere.

Author's Notes: This story has been sitting in my drafts for over a year, waiting for the perfect moment to see the light of day. It wasn't until recently that I found the inspiration to finally finish the last two chapters, thanks to the incredible Keri @absurdthirst. Her story, "Washed Up," struck a chord with me—it had such a similar plot and concept to what I had in mind, and it reignited my passion to bring this piece to life. Keri's writing has been a constant source of solace and inspiration, and I'm endlessly grateful for her creativity and the way she crafts stories that speak to the soul. If you haven’t checked out her work, you absolutely should!

Warnings: Please be aware that this story contains elements of violence, explicit sexual content, and pregnancy. Additionally, there are medical inaccuracies throughout—because I don’t work in the medical field, so please take it all with a grain of salt. Enjoy the ride, and thank you for reading! 😊

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over Dave’s room. You stirred, nestled against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting sound in the early light. For a moment, everything felt peaceful, almost surreal, as you recalled the events of the previous night—how naturally things had unfolded between you, how right it had felt to be with him.

But the tranquility was short-lived. The distant sound of commotion from outside gradually pulled you from your reverie. You frowned, sitting up slightly, straining to hear. It was the animals—something wasn’t right.

“Do you hear that?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern as you looked over at Dave.

He was already awake, his brow furrowed as he listened. “Yeah… sounds like trouble.”

You quickly slipped out of bed, throwing on your clothes as you headed for the door. Dave was right behind you, pulling on his pants and a shirt before following you outside.

The scene that greeted you was chaotic. The chickens had somehow gotten out of their coop, scattering across the yard, while one of the cows had wandered too close to the fence, its head stuck between the slats as it tried to reach for some grass on the other side.

“Oh no,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair as you assessed the situation. “How did this happen?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dave said, his voice calm but firm. “Let’s just get things under control.”

Together, you sprang into action. You grabbed a bucket of feed, using it to coax the chickens back into the coop while Dave worked to free the cow from the fence. It was a hectic start to the day, the two of you working side by side, but despite the stress, you couldn’t help but notice how seamlessly you and Dave functioned as a team.

“Got it,” Dave grunted, finally managing to free the cow. The animal gave a disgruntled moo before lumbering back to the pasture.

“Thanks,” you called over, catching your breath as you secured the coop door, the last of the chickens safely inside. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

He flashed you a small, tired smile, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Glad to help. Besides, I think I owe you after last night.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I think we’re even.”

As the morning wore on, you both found yourselves immersed in the tasks of the day. There was always something to do on the farm, whether it was tending to the animals, checking the vegetable garden, or handling the endless paperwork that came with running the place. Normally, the routine was comforting, but today felt different—busier, more intense, like there was an undercurrent of tension that neither of you could quite place.

By the time the afternoon sun was high in the sky, you noticed Dave beginning to slow down. His movements were more deliberate, his expression pinched as if he was in pain.

“You okay?” you asked, pausing in your work to look at him.

He nodded, but the slight grimace on his face told a different story. “Just a headache,” he said, trying to brush it off. “I’ll be fine.”

But as the day wore on, it became clear that this was more than just a simple headache. Dave’s condition worsened, the pain in his head growing more intense, his hand occasionally pressing against his temple as if trying to hold the pain at bay. You caught him stumbling slightly, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he tried to steady himself.

“Dave, you need to rest,” you insisted, concern lacing your voice. “You don’t look good.”

“I’m fine,” he tried to argue, but the strain in his voice was evident.

“No, you’re not,” you said firmly, moving closer to him. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Reluctantly, he let you guide him back to the house, his steps unsteady as you led him to the couch. By the time you got him to sit down, he was pale, sweat beading on his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain.

“What’s happening?” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why does it hurt so much?”

You didn’t have an answer, panic rising in your chest as you grabbed your phone and called for an ambulance. “It’s going to be okay,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “Help is on the way.”

As you waited, you sat beside him, holding him against your chest, feeling helpless as he fought against the pain. He didn’t say much, his breaths coming in shallow pants, but you could see the confusion and fear in his eyes.

When the paramedics arrived, they quickly assessed his condition, noting the severity of his symptoms. “We need to get him to the hospital,” one of them said, motioning for the stretcher.

You followed them to the hospital, your heart in your throat as they rushed him inside. The doctors took over, running tests, asking questions you didn’t have answers to. All you could do was wait, pacing the sterile hallway, praying for good news.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a doctor approached you, his expression serious but not without hope. “He’s stable for now,” he said. “But we need to keep him for a few days to monitor his condition. He’s experiencing severe migraines, which could be a result of past trauma.”

“Past trauma?” you echoed, your voice trembling slightly.

The doctor nodded. “It’s possible that the migraines are being triggered by something in his past—memories that his brain is trying to process. We’ll need to keep him under observation to see how he responds.”

You nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. “Can I see him?”

“Of course,” the doctor said, leading you to his room.

When you entered, Dave was lying in bed, his eyes closed, a look of exhaustion etched on his face. You approached quietly, taking a seat beside him, your hand resting on the edge of the bed.

“Hey,” you said softly when he stirred, his eyes blinking open slowly.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “Sorry about… all this.”

“Don’t apologize,” you said, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “The doctors say you’re going to be fine. They just need to keep you here for a few days.”

He nodded weakly, his gaze distant, as if he was lost in thought. “I keep seeing… flashes,” he said after a moment, his brow furrowing. “Like… memories. But they’re all jumbled. I don’t know what’s real and what’s not.”

“What kind of memories?” you asked gently, leaning closer.

He shook his head, wincing slightly at the motion. “It’s hard to describe. There’s… a tower, I think. And a fight. Someone was there, someone… dangerous. But it’s all blurry, like a dream that’s slipping away.”

You listened, your heart aching for him as he struggled to make sense of the images in his mind. “Do you recognize anyone in these memories?”

He hesitated, his eyes narrowing as he tried to focus. “Maybe… I don’t know. It’s like trying to grasp smoke. Every time I think I’ve got it, it just… disappears.”

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. “It’s okay. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. “What if… what if these memories are bad? What if they’re things I don’t want to remember?”

You squeezed his hand gently, offering him a comforting smile. “They’re still a part of your past that might help you remember the rest….”

He nodded slowly, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “Thanks… for being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You stayed with him as long as the hospital allowed, but eventually, you had to leave, promising to return the next day. The ride home was a blur, your mind occupied with worry for Dave and the strange flashes of memories he’d described.

In the rush and stress of the day, with everything happening so fast, the Plan B pill slipped your mind completely. Between worrying about Dave and dealing with the chaos on the farm, it simply didn’t cross your thoughts again as you made your way home.

The next few days passed in a haze of worry and exhaustion. You visited Dave everyday, but each time you saw him, it seemed like he was slipping further away, lost in the maze of his own mind. The doctors assured you that his condition was improving, but the frustration of not knowing what was real and what wasn’t weighed heavily on both of you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dave was cleared to go home. The ride back to the farm was quiet, both of you lost in your own thoughts. When you finally arrived, the familiar sights and sounds of the farm seemed to have calmed the man sitting beside you in the car. 

That evening, after settling back home, you both found yourselves sitting on the porch, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink as the sun dipped below the horizon. The silence between you was comfortable, but there was an undercurrent of something unspoken—something that had been lingering since Dave’s return from the hospital earlier that day.

Dave finally broke the silence, his voice low and thoughtful. “You know… I’ve been thinking. Maybe what happened between us, that night… maybe it triggered something in my head.”

You turned to him, curiosity and concern mingling in your gaze. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, his eyes distant as they fixed on the treeline in the fading light. “When I was in the hospital, I told you that I started getting these flashes—like memories, but they were all mixed up. There was this one… a tower, a fight… It felt real, but at the same time, it was like a bad dream. And it keeps repeating…”

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. “Do you remember anything specific? Anyone?”

He shook his head, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. “Not really. Just… fragments. Faces I can’t place, voices that I recognize but can’t make out the words. It’s like trying to put together a puzzle with missing pieces.”

You reached out, placing your hand gently on his. “That must have been terrifying.”

He nodded, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing rhythm. “It was. But what scared me the most was that I don’t know if those are real memories, or if they’re just my mind playing tricks on me.”

You squeezed his hand a little tighter, offering him a warm, encouraging smile. “Whatever they are, they don’t define who you are now. You’re here, and you’re safe. That’s what matters.”

His gaze finally met yours, the hardness in his expression softening. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

You chuckled softly, a hint of self-deprecation in your tone. “I try. But I’m serious, John… Whatever those flashes are—if they are really memories—good or bad, they’re just pieces of the past. They don’t have to control or define your present and your future.”

He was quiet for a moment, mulling over your words. “I guess I’m just worried,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. “What if remembering changes the way I feel about everything? About us?”

Your heart swelled with a mix of emotions as you held his gaze, your eyes searching his for understanding. “Then we’ll deal with it when it happens. But right now, we’re here. And I care about you… a lot.”

A small, tentative smile tugged at his lips. “I care about you too. More than I thought I could, given… well, everything.” You both chuckled, the sound lightening the mood just a bit, a shared acknowledgment of the complicated history between you.

You leaned in closer, your voice soft and tender. “Then let’s not let fear of the unknown ruin what we have right now. We’ll take it one day at a time, remember?”

He nodded, his expression relaxing as he gently pulled you into his arms. “Yeah… one day at a time.”

As you rested your head against his chest, you felt the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath your ear. The worries and uncertainties were still there, hovering in the background, but for now, you were content to let them be, trusting in the moment. You closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of his embrace, the feeling of being held so close, so securely.

But then, as the quiet deepened and the night settled in around you, Dave tilted your chin up, his gaze searching yours with a newfound intensity. The air between you seemed to thicken, charged with a tension that neither of you had acknowledged until now.

Slowly, he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your lips as he hesitated for just a fraction of a second, as if giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was as tender as it was filled with unspoken promise.

When you finally parted, breathless and slightly dazed, you kept your foreheads pressed together, your eyes fluttering open to meet his. The unspoken words, the fears, the hopes—they all hung in the air between you, but the kiss had said more than words ever could.

“You know,” you began with a teasing smile, “the last time we started making out like this, you ended up in the hospital the next day. Maybe we should put a warning label on our kisses.”

Dave laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Oh, so that’s how it is, huh? You’re saying kissing is bad now?”

You grinned, poking him lightly in the ribs. “I’m just saying, I’d like to keep you out of the ER for a while. Can’t have you back there… the nurses swoon over you...”

He shook his head, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours. “Well, maybe I should kiss you again, and if I do end up back in the hospital, kiss me again… in front of the nurses.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. “Wow, that’s pretty bold!” You laughed. 

His smile widened, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. “Oh, that’s something I want to do.”

Before you could respond, he captured your lips in another kiss, this one filled with a light-hearted passion that made your heart skip a beat. 

Any lingering tension melted away as you both laughed softly against each other’s lips, the playful banter turning into something sweeter, more intimate.

Next Chapter 👉🏻

[synnthamonsugar]

Synnth’s Fic Rec Friday ….......... #3!

Inspired by the fic rec listed started by @a-driftamongopenstars and the Friday fic rec series by @flowers-of-io. I thought I would throw my hat into the ring with my own weekly(ish) whenever I feel like it series. (Tag: Synnth Recs)

Newness of Breath

By @scribonia-art

Read on AO3

Fandom: Destiny | Rating: General | Characters: Original Hive Lightbearer & Original Hive Ghost | Word count: 4,043 | Warnings: No archive warnings (see chapter notes for additional CWs)

A Hive Wizard awakes from the thoughtless sleep that had been death and she experiences the world for the first time. A Ghost is panicking because she had not been expecting an idle experiment to work.

If you've followed this series so far, you know I love Destiny fanfic that engages with the conventions of Destiny storytelling — most notably the venerable lore book, backbone of Destiny narrative, unparalleled for its ability to establish wide swaths of world-building, poignant character pieces, and memorable standalone works of fiction in short-form.

Newness of Breath leans into the style of Destiny grimoire to brilliant effect, delivering an unforgettable study of the Hive Lightbearer, Melammu, in around 4k words and 8 chapters.

There is sun on my skin. Dappled by thin scrub and short trees that grow on a rocky brown crag above me. Smears of white against the incredible blueness of the sky and the hot white orb that stings my eyes but delivers such sweet warmth that soaks down into my flesh. I close my eyes and turn my face to the sun. I feel its embrace.  If this is what Being is like, I am glad to Be. 

I'm a sucker for newly-revived Lightbearer stories. As someone who enjoys the narrative arc of the bildungsroman, but cannot stand any of that teenage angst stuff, Guardians, as a concept, are tailor-made for me. Imagine: An adult who has to figure out their identity and place in the world ... and they have an enigmatic little companion and cool powers. It's perfect.

I love the way this fic handles being newly born into a strange new life, the way it delivers the perspective character's inner monologue and the physicality of existence. Even something as simple as breathing or enjoying the sunshine is elevated from Melammu's point of view.

"I can't believe I just did that," says the thing as it frets above me, spinning in its many smooth chitin parts around its little core of silver and luminosity. It darts to and fro as if the motion would help it find its answer. I watch it from my rocky perch, blissful in the sun's warmth, claws folded together in my lap as I wait for it to speak to me. With no teeth or tongue I wonder how it speaks at all, but maybe its words are also new things like sparks struck from between unseen ineffable objects.

But the story of a new Lightbearer is never only that. The Ghost is always the second half, or should be. The terrified surprise felt by Ghost as their decision to revive a hive wizard settles in, pit against the curious naïveté of their ward makes for a fascinating dynamic.

"... what if I don't defend myself?" "They'll just kill you anyway." I look down at my claws and the Ghost cradled in them.  "Oh."

Loss of innocence as the main character comes to terms with the reality of their station is a staple of every "coming of age" story and this one is no different. I love how this fic grapples with the injustice faced by hive lightbearers, who, as with any other, are born with no inherent agendas or loyalties, and casts a spotlight on the hypocrisy of those who judge Guardians by their pre-Light lives.

Still, Melammu and Ghost care for each other, despite their strange and frightening circumstances and the acknowledgement that a mistake was made. I love the tenderness and compassion with which they treat each other, despite - or because of - their hardships.

We move at night. Fewer of my estranged cousins-in-the-Light are present in the darkness and, though the crisp moonlight shines brightly on the white of my frilled carapace, it is harder to see us.

The proceeding chapters are vivid and heartwrenching, and build to an emotional culmination that I dare not reveal here because it should only be experienced firsthand. (This is your cue to go read it now.)

Destiny is very much a story about devotion, duty and sacrifice, played out on cosmic scale but also in the interpersonal relationship between every Guardian-Ghost pair, and this story is exemplary of that most tender and bittersweet dynamic. As well as larger questions of what it means to exist, the meaning of life, and what to do with the life one is given.

Final rating: Will be thinking about this one forever/10

[onebraincell-itmiebcraft]

Liveblogging real life part 2: Joel (it's been 12 13 days) (already watched)

Okay so maybe we'll do the liveblog-every-five-minutes-unless-something-crazy thing also idk if I should link this up to my intro post (idk how) or reblogged my og one with this oh well we'll figure it out why am I eating AGAIN doing this

I got inspired after rewatching secret life my beloved for the umpteenth time :P

Okay ep. 1/finale is hilarious and new "series" 😭

Joel why did you point out the cursor I can't take my eyes away

First batch

Joel jumping then immediately keeling over in nausea:

Idk how to respond to that but it struck a chord within me, how true

BigB wholesome waving but it also looks like his arm is BENT I can't get over VR arms man 😭

Punching BigB because he's so tall is so real tbh + love the smash cut to Gem being salty

Headpatting + baby-ish voice "little gem/Ren/skizz" what a gentleman makes me think of the try not to cry challenge or Jimmy's crazy christmas series where he says Joel is a crybaby and Gem says he's a romance guy in a mental gymnastics train of thought

Grian throwing his head back from the outside?! Cryptid behaviour

The real life vids don't make me motion sick but Joel making retching and vomiting sounds does NOT help it makes me sick by proxy or something I hate being disoriented and nauseous too buddy

There's probably a video out there of someone comparing regular mc to vr because vr just hits different like proportions wise

Joel noises

Love this Joel-Gem duo already idk how to describe it just fun

Also Joel having to process out loud he won't throw up on Gem I remember playing Richie's plank experience or whatever years and years ago shit was REAL

Joel's inventory becoming disorganized with things that can be stacked together :(

Hey what gem said kinda reminds me of what grian said :D at the end of his episode awful :DD

Poor Joel he's battling his height complex alongside his motion sickness (rip bozo poor little meow meow)

I think almost everybody had the problem of facing the wall dude, it's okay it's very silly

Water foreshadowing (he will swim with his future gang and become incredibly sick)

Geminislay that pig

Wait till Joel learns about lying down‼️‼️

JOEL STOP MAKING NAUSEOUS SOUNDS I'M GONNA FROW UP 👹

"...Falling in powdered snow" kinda reminds me of this short story I read in grade 9 English class "The Bamboo Trap" protag fell in The Bamboo Trap™ and got bitten by big ass spiders or something the idiot, also I think got published in the same anthology as the most dangerous game 👊

Joel admits to weakness

Weird ass snow, someone built this or something?

Joel with his arms out looks so silly, so does gem

Oh gem how graceful with the figure skating history 👊👊👊✌️👉✌️✌️🤜🤛🤛🤜🙏

Lol they learn about the wrist chat

Second batch

Jimmy, oh iconic Timmy

Shield (why did I write this again?)

Bi shoes, love seeing gem's skin wearing the bi shoes I forget about it every once in a while and when I see it again it's a pleasant surprise

Vr players learn to pvp

When you use the shield to block in first person it looks kinda stupid dude

Campsite vibes tbh, I really like it.

Bee spotted 🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝 what is it doing

Shaky controller cursor over top chest plate I feel you

Falling irl indeed (recursive mention about plank)

LOUD holy moly Joel is loud (not negative)

Healf being something people can't look at at all times is actually a kinda funny mechanic

Smajor friendship aww when will they team up (did I forget about a series)

The poor beg for bread, we live in a society ✊😔

Grian killing??? Since when??? (Sarcastic)

Batch three

Peace and love is why they haven't died yet 😘

Arms again! Weird looking things

Hand gesture reminds me of that one diamond scar short with etho's greedy "I want the diamond" voice

Flint and steel? Weird looking thing

Omg red club looks like bugs, the way the trio gossips about them ♥️

Right no out messages...

Can't believe the most motion sick man gets in the water not once but TWICE this ep

Does he know

Where did the horse thing come from

Can't remember if I mentioned this but when the sword swings without critting in VR it looks so silly it pokes

A bugs life: the sequel

Club: deadly euphemism

Sword 😐

Something about jimmy doesn't get burnt...

Why is Jimmy jiggles the only one with a wooden sword???

Strong words from a man on the verge of mania 👀

Lol knowing impulse breaks the ground under Joel big brain man going for the kill

Something about the disappointed way Joel says "scar!" And scar stabbing him in the first caused this

Tim is so British he says "get in" so much

Joel, again exasperated, cries out "where's all my stuff?!"

Funny Minecraft men, my favourite funny Minecraft men

My god seeing from Joel's perspective his second death is from zombie

I think Joel was about to saying bluming + the cover behind house + the constant begging for his stuff back + violence as an answer (he hits men)

4

Oh scar up to no good again

JOEL GETS IN THE WATER AGAIN!!! MOTION SICKNESS WIN!

Joel and scar just did mitosis stop being scared of biology 🙄

What was Mr solidaritygaming doing in that hill and said yes to did he finally get iron?

Aw the silly arm motion I love greeting people with spirit fingers reminds me of that

GOON SQUAD?! (neuron activated)

Famous moment

Oh more famous moment here comes the smallidarity kiss

Love Tim's body language once again the sharp smooth head turn to grian he's like a cartoon character

(what grian mean they are suited and booted he cut this part out I don't remember the other povs 😢)

Leave it to solidaritygaming himself to be the most homoerotic straight man there is of course + Joel is still patting him on the head? + Timsel being cringefail needing to jump multiple times on ONE BLOCK + Joel did NOT need to lean that much he looks like he's powered by springs + Jim's arms always being so tight together. Makes him. Look like. An old granny??? + Joel IMMEDIATELY checking his wrist afterwards like it's a Tuesday and he's on break + homophobic GRIAN + impulse's dad delivery one liner

The more I watch smallidarity kiss the more bizarre and asinine it becomes to me 😀

When did Joel learn to button jump (he WAS mental for jumping irl irl)

Okay Joel cut out that canary comment why don't you 🙄🙄🙄

WHACK 💀 SHAKE YOUR HANDS REAL FAST 💀💀 JOEL SCREAM #3997 💀💀💀

Fond of Joel's cadence of saying "hello guys!" And "I'm coming in boys!" And "HAHA!" oddly musical

Okay aaaaaaand he dies worst ranking ever good for him the end

Idk if I should liveblog scar next or watch Ren because I've already watched up to skizz + me 'ead 'urts oh well

[useless-moss]

Getting back into my shenanigans and a 'Dagur working through prison trauma w/ Hiccup' fic reminded me of an old angsty idea @reallyprofoundkryptonite and I had for the Kin All the Same AU. Also nutmeg idea inspired by that one @evilwriter37 Heather fic. (I'm almost certain it was one of their fics at least-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TW: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Referenced Kidnapping, Implied/Referenced Rape, Rape Aftermath, Implied Pregnancy and Abortion

Characters: Original Trans Male Character (Magnus), Viggo, Krogan, Dagur. Other characters mentioned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few weeks have been... Hell, to put it lightly. The panic of Magnus' initial disappearance, followed by the anger and fear of learning he'd been taken by Grimmel, and then the fight to get him back. A fight that was doomed to be a bloodbath from the second the hunter dared lay his hands on Magnus. For rather obvious reasons, in retrospect. No sane person, or person even vaguely aware of the consequences, would reasonably try. And for good reason.

Viggo, Dagur, and Krogan saw Magnus as their own. They'd worked together to raise the boy, and they didn't tolerate their son so much as being insulted. Dagur has thrown men overboard for challenging what Magnus says in regards to the dragons he handled. He's struck a few idiots with an axe for suggesting the boy be used as 'stress relief' during some particularly rough weeks at sea. Krogan has outright killed a few men, his own flyers and Viggo's hunters alike, for similar reasons. One poor bastard thought it would be funny to grab the boys chest once. There wasn't enough left of him to even throw to the fishes, and Krogan's clothes were soaked in so much blood you'd believe they had always been that red. Viggo, ever the voice of reason (about 90% of the time at least), was less violent. But he's still fired men on the spot for making the wrong comment, even jokingly, about Magnus.

The battle, the raid of Grimmel's camp, had been a gory mess. A vague plan of action, but endless violence otherwise. Men had been ripped apart like paper or gutted like fish. Broken bones, charred bodies. Even Hiccup refused to hold back, letting the dragons fight however they thought best. Letting the dragons, for a few moments at least, sink back into their wild nature. Some men had bites taken out of them, courtesy of Krogan and Hookfang. Grimmel himself had barely escaped, and even when he had he'd been one arm and almost an entire camp short. Those that survived the attack would be permanently scarred. Permanently mutilated, and carrying the memory of violence they've probably never even imagined before.

Magnus wasn't in good condition, physically or mentally. He was blind in one eye now, a fact that made both Viggo and Krogan's hearts ache. They both knew what that was like, of course. The scales around his left eye that created a birthmark-like appearance, that marked Magnus as having Lycanwing blood like Krogan did, had also been flayed off. Cut and pulled. Separated from skin and muscle in a manner that was grotesque, yet neat. Showing Grimmel had drawn out the process. Broken bones that had begun healing wrong and needed to be painfully readjusted. Dehydration. The list seemed extensive, yet far too short, considering this was Grimmel who did it.

"Do you need anything else?" The voice is soft and smooth. Very characteristic of Viggo, but lacking the usual edge it carried. There's a pause. A moment of silent consideration, then a shuddering breath.

"Nutmeg. A large dose." The answer is straightforward, like Magnus has been thinking about it for a while now. Which, in retrospect, he probably has. He'd picked up a fair bit of Viggo's planning ahead habit over the years. And, of course, being the resident healer of the hunter's gave him plenty of knowledge.

The younger ones in the room, helping monitor and tend to Magnus's injuries and mental state, don't understand the implications. But Viggo does. It makes him feel nauseous and enraged all at once. It makes him feel guilty as well.

"... Grimmel..?" The question is asked by Krogan this time, in a clipped manner. Like the dark skinned man is just barely holding himself back from screaming and punching a wall in a mix of grief and rage. A simple nod is the answer, and then Krogan is storming out. Ryker follows. Viggo swallows the lump forming in his throat, and nods to Hiccup and Fishlegs. A silent gesture for them to go get what Magnus requested. Dagur and Viggo stick with the boy. Until Krogan's yelling grows audible, at least, and then Viggo leaves to try and help his brother calm the man.

Dagur refuses to leave the boys' side. He sticks by Magnus like a tick to a dog, fingers carding through reddish brown hair. They sit mostly in silence. There isn't much to say. No amount of comforting words or promises seemed to be enough. No vows for revenge felt right. The thought of telling the boy about his time in prison doesn't seem right at the moment either, and Dagur highly doubts Magnus wants to hear how his adoptive father had gone through a similar thing in the first place. It would likely hurt the boy more than anything else.

Krogan and Viggo returned at some point. Ryker left to go make some food and to give the immediate family some time. It's been weeks since they've all been together, after all. So they're given time to just be there for each other. Krogan, the man was surprisingly cuddly when he trusted someone, kept Magnus up against his side in a protective embrace. Dagur crowded the boys' other side, resting his head on Magnus's shoulder. Viggo sits next to Krogan, fingers lightly interlocked with the boys own as a reminder that he's here as well.

And when the bleeding starts, when it's clear Magnus needs his dad's more than anything else right now, they stay. They wouldn't dare leave, no matter how much the evidence of the horror their son experienced hurt. Their pain is miniscule in comparison.

[misc-obeyme]

Hello hello CC! Long time no see, 🦀🐚 here.

Just saw that you’re gonna run a short dnd campaign and wanted to crash through and wish you a nice session with the party!

I’ve really been wanting to get into Dnd but can’t really find a group to do it with. If I introduce it to my friends I’ll probably end up as the one running the campaign and I’m not too sure whether I’ll be able to do that given that I’m new, so I’ve mostly been listening to dnd podcasts during work.

It’s just fun to see someone else trying Dnd. If you don’t me asking; since you’re running the game, did you create the campaign or are you using a premade one? I can definitely see you maybe writing one if inspiration struck…

So again, have a nice session and hope you’ve been doing great during these past few months.

Oh, welcome back, 🦀🐚 anon!

Ahhhh DnD! Thank you, it was indeed a lovely session!

I will say that the thing about podcasts is that they really go heavy on the roleplaying element of DnD. I haven't listened to a ton of them, but I do feel like part of the point is to make it entertaining enough for other people to listen? And really you can kinda do whatever you want when it comes to some of this stuff. My group is super chill so I'm not sure we do the same level of like... acting lol.

Well, lemme tell you a bit about my personal experience so that some of what I'm saying makes sense!

I started playing probably... five or so years ago? Our usual group has six players, plus the DM, which is not usually me. That's a lot, but the interest levels between the party members vary. So there are about four of us who are really into it (aside from the DM) and two of us who are not as into it, but play because they like the friend group. They enjoy combat more than roleplaying and because there are so many party members, we tend to spend a lot of our sessions in combat. It's also big stretches of time between when we play because you know, adults with lives and what not.

So the rest of us were like what if we run a smaller, separate campaign just for fun so we can play a little more frequently?

And then it was like well... our DM has been DMing for years, you think he wants a break??

And someone was like yo CC you're creative, you'd be a good DM!

And I was like... yeah okay fine! LOL!

This wasn't my first time DMing, but it has been years. And then people got sick, so I ended up with a party of only two people lol. I had to fudge some numbers but they made it through the campaign.

Anyway, all of this is to say that I found it surprisingly easy to DM. I thought it was gonna be super difficult, but it really isn't that hard at all.

I used a premade campaign that I found for free online. This was because I was kinda just getting my feet wet, you know? I think I'd rather run a homebrew campaign, where I get to make everything up. But I'll probably do a few more premade modules with the full group just to get into the swing of things.

The biggest challenge is to roll with the nonsense players throw at you. For instance, this story started out with a sheep holding a Scroll of Speak with Animals because it wanted to talk to the party (it wasn't really a sheep, but a cursed wizard). Well, it runs up to the party and immediately one of my players is like, "Can I lasso it and ride it like a pony?"

And I was like... sigh. Roll an acrobatics check.

They didn't even notice the scroll before they wanted to lasso that poor sheep. And since my player was a halfling, they could actually ride it, so I was just like okay, sure why not lol.

I swear players just really enjoy coming up with the most bonkers response they can think of because of the DM's reaction lol.

Anyway, I totally get if you're nervous to DM, but I promise it's not as hard as it seems. And if you're playing with other people who are new, they tend to be more lenient and you can all learn together. Like there were a few times where I had to ask my players about rules 'cause I forgot them.

There's a starter pack that you can get that has a whole campaign and dice and like a booklet of rules and stuff. I think it has premade characters too iirc? It's pretty good for if you want to try it out with your friends without committing to buying all the books and stuff.

My group used to play in person and our DM had one of those grid white board style maps and he'd draw out every dungeon every session. We had little figures for our characters and tons of dice! I have some really pretty purpley blue sparkly dice...

But now we play on roll20.net online because I moved across the country. If you're planning on playing virtually, you can use roll20 for free. It has built in modules you can use, but you can also just upload your own maps and stuff.

ANYWAY. Wow I rambled a lot about that, huh? Sorry about that, I guess I had a lot to say about it! But I felt like it was kind of a unique situation what with the two groups and stuff.

If nothing else, you can also check local gamer stores or sometimes independent book stores. They often run DnD campaigns that anyone can join. I think there are also online campaigns you can join on roll20 and possibly other places, too! I hope you're able to find some people to play with!

[monstersandmaw]

Ok so I've been in love with your werewolf oc Rhett and i really want too see more of him if that's possible with you like your writing has this effect i can't explain but since there's the ask oc questions you already know who am chosing drum roll please 🎉 Rhett 🎉 I wanna ask these ones 7,24,25,38,40,41 and for you my most loved and Fabolous writer who got me in this cumunity A,E,C,B again thank you so much 💞💞 you are the Best

How lovely! Thank you for this, and I'm very happy to answer these for you on Rhett's behalf...

7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

Rhett doesn't feel much nostalgia for his feral past, but there are a few occasions when he used to curl up with Charlie if the weather was awful and they would be a peaceful family unit with no outside stress for a while. He does enjoy the feeling now that Charlie is free as well and living with him, but before Charlie showed up, it used to make him terribly sad.

24. Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom? 

Generally, no. He's very dominant, but he's also shy about that fact because he doesn't always have great control. He's fine talking with his partner now, but if strangers or even friends started talking openly about their sex lives, he'd probably get a bit uncomfortable (not prudish, just... uncomfortable).

25. What are their thoughts on marriage? 

Marriage is never something he imagined for himself, but you know he's going to propose to his mate at some point, after everything they've been through together now...

38. What memory do they revisit the most often?

The first time he saw his mate passing the garage where he works (long before the start of their story). He was struck by the way she moved and admired the fact that she was buying herself flowers. He remembers hearing her laughing with Maro and wanting to hear her laugh again and again... *sappy, but it is what it is*

40. How sensitive are they to their own flaws?

Mmm, quite, if I'm honest. He knows he's flawed, that he's short on temper and very short on patience, and he also knows how far he's come from where he started, living shifted and feral, so when someone points out the fact that he's barely literate or that he's got a short fuse, it rankles, to say the least.

41. How do they feel about children? 

Mixed? He doesn't think he'd made a good father (blatantly untrue) because he didn't have a good upbringing and doesn't know how to raise a child. If his mate wanted children though, or if they found out she was pregnant, he would throw himself fully into being a father.

__

Author questions:

A) Why are you excited about this character?

I fell for him because I've always loved the outsider characters, and the ones who were never given a chance to flourish until they met that One Person who help/allow them to be who they are for the first time.

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

I'm not sure! I like to think we could be friends, but I'm also really shy and reserved, so there's a lot of room for miscommunication. I like to think I'm also understanding though, and that I'd give him the time and space he would need to acclimatise to being around me. I love dogs, so I'd definitely get on with his pack...

C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?

No. I knew exactly where his story was going from the start, though Charlie's arrival nearly surprised me as much as it did the characters!

B) What inspired you to create them?

I wanted to surprise my Patrons with a story on Valentines, and I didn't want it to be a 'traditional' prompt, so I figured why not have it start with a reader buying themselves flowers just because they could.

___

Thank you so much! I hope that satisfied your need for Rhett!

(uncommon oc asks here)

[stvrchaser]

destined or doomed? (2)

( pairing ) : five hargreeves x reader

( about ) : inspired by s3ep10 ; five suffers a loss greater than anything he could have ever imagined — part 2 of this but reading both isn’t necessary. you can still enjoy (or suffer through) either one individually

( warnings ) : death trope, descriptions of blood and injury

( words ) : 2000

( note ) : my ideas aren’t getting any happier, i fear. blame s4 of stranger things. anyway i’m sorry this is so short i just wanted to write something sad 

Somewhere along the line, something went wrong. Something always goes wrong.

“There were never seven bells or horsemen. You brought us here to die!”

“There were never seven bells or horsemen. You brought us here to die!”

Shock lays thick in the air, a palpable wave of rage annihilating any previous trace of fear. After Klaus’ fortunate return from the dead and the revelation that Reginald had, in fact, collectively betrayed what remains of either Academies, the tension is so intense it could be worthy of giving the Kugelblitz a run for its money.

Then, again, that might have been the whole point. Reginald and his meticulous plans couldn’t have been made on a whim. Who’s to say this moment wasn’t anticipated?

Following a similar conclusion, Five racks his brain for a plan. Silently, he runs through the situation at hand: 

First, there’s the significance of the number seven — seven bells, seven kids, Number Seven being the most powerful of each batch. It’s unbelievable that he’s only putting them together now. It’s outrageous. Even as children, they were being raised like pigs for slaughter. In the grand scheme of things, they were nothing but collateral damage in the great mission to save the universe. They were the keys, melted and reformed for their father’s ridiculous purpose.

“That’s not so.” Reginald’s response is immediate, defensive, only enforcing your assumptions. “Somewhere in this hotel is the key to resetting the universe. We just need to find the sigil!”

“I don't care about your sigil! None of us do.” There’s something gut-wrenching about the way Sloane screams, the soft-spoken woman long-gone. Instead, here stands a person struck by unimaginable grief, a widow and the only remaining half of a freshly-wedded couple bloomed from tragedy.

Second, Five continues, if they were the keys, somewhere in the hotel must be the locks. But, of course, they’re guarded by blood-thirsty samurais because when have they ever been given an easy task?

He takes a step forward.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you whisper, stopping him when you see the determination etched on his face. It’s a dangerous look — a sign of impulsivity that could get you all killed.

“I need to talk with the Old Man. I think it’s time to start asking the important questions, don’t you?” Someone else might believe it. After all, what’s so strange about needing to talk? 

Only that Five has a bad tendency to strike before asking questions.

“You can’t kill him!”

“If he starts talking, I won’t need to kill him.” You hold a firm gaze, trying to match the unbeatable stubbornness in Five. It isn’t easy. Natural rigidity and an additional lifetime to enhance it isn’t an advantage you have, neither is it something you ever particularly wished for.

“I mean it, Five. He’s the only one here who knows anything about this place. If he dies, we’re stuck here.”

“Well, we’re going to die, anyway.” He says it so calmly that it makes your blood boil. Here you are, trying to save his life, and what do you have to show for it? Does he even care to start over? Would he want to grow older with his newfound freedom with you? It definitely doesn’t seem like it right now. You don’t understand this new recklessness, only that it seems to be a common phenomenon for people who have accepted death. Is that what’s going on here?

The next time you take a step forward to stop him, your foot catches his. Having overestimated your distance, the contact throws you off-guard and you lose your balance. Five, attentive despite his apparent impulsiveness, catches you by the arm with another hand supporting your waist.

As he leans forward, he finds himself looking at the ground. He glances at the spot where your feet have landed and the solid shape of a six-pointed star, sliver against the varied tiles of black, brown, and white. Then, he raises his head to get a better view of the pattern. From a distance, two tiles of the same color — two white, two brown, two black — all placed vertically from one another, make a larger six-pointed star.

Confused as to why he hasn’t let go, you try to catch his attention.

“What is it?” There’s a second where he doesn’t seem so sure, either.

“I think… I think I might have something.” He takes your arm, the one he’d caught to stop your fall, and tears you away from the group, leading you up the stairs. The tension amongst the group is still so overwhelming that nobody notices you leave. 

You watch Five, still and calculating. “Seven bells,” he breathes. “You were standing on it!” Staring at the same view, the entirely of the hotel lobby, you’re hit with realization.

“The stars. Seven stars, seven Academy kids.” Five leans forward over the railing, calling to everyone’s attention.

“Hey, I found the sigil! It’s on the–” He doesn’t get to finish the sentence.

To your left, the ceiling shatters, glass flying everywhere. Instinctively, you rush to push Five out of the way.

It all happens so quickly that the shock doesn’t set in until you’re staring at the blurred ceiling, Five’s face blinking in and out of your vision. You don’t hear him scream for a long time until your senses come back, gradually. First, your hearing, then your sight. Finally, a sharp pain strikes your back.

“No,” Five whispers, breaths ragged. “No! No!” It takes a little longer, in the midst of pain and temporary unconsciousness, to notice the blood soaking into your clothes. You can’t tell whether it’s that or Five’s embrace radiating heat through your body.

He managed to catch you again. He always does. He presses his blazer against your back, hands shaking as he tries to stop the bleeding. Judging based on the point of pressure, the cut ranges through your lower back, all the way to the top of your spine, just inches away from your shoulders. At this point, the best case scenario would be permanent paralysis — spending the rest of your life almost entirely paralyzed. You might have minutes or hours until you lose all motion or feeling below your shoulder. That is, of course, if blood loss doesn’t kill you first.

You want to laugh. Or cry. As your luck would have it, of course you’d die just as you find a way to save everyone else. 

“Go,” you manage to whisper. Selfishly, a part of you would prefer to die in Five’s arms, his eyes the last thing you see before taking your final breath. But your better judgment would hate to watch him in agony as you leave. So, you decide that you wouldn’t make him wait and watch. You couldn’t.

“No… I won’t… I’m not leaving you here to die!” he stutters. “We can still get out of here. We’ll get you help, alright?” His voice is desperate, one the verge of breaking. You’ve never heard that before. Not from him.

You know, realistically, as the adrenaline wears off and you feel the torn flesh of your back like a fire ablaze, that this isn’t a tragedy that a person can survive. That a fate like this isn’t placed on a person who might live to see another day.

“I don’t think I’m gonna make it this time, Five.” You try not to let your emotions get the best of you, the mortification on his face tugging at your heart. “And I won’t let you risk everyone else for a chance that I might live. We don’t know what will happen next.”

You want to ask him to be strong, but it’s an unfair demand to make in the face of grief. It doesn’t feel right to ask him to turn a blind eye to death when he has witnessed so much of it… when he has lost so much to it.

“I don’t care about what happens next,” he tells her, his voice turbulent. “Not if you won’t be there.”

“Five—”

“No! I was supposed to die with you!” There’s a hint of anger that shatters something in you because the thought of dying whilst Five despised you seems like a nightmare. It would condemn you to a fate worse than Hell. “I didn’t want to reset the world in the first place. We agreed, Y/N. We were supposed to stay, the two of us.”

Unspoken, he thinks, you aren’t supposed to leave me.

You shut your eyes because you can’t stand to look at him like this. He was right. You did promise to wait out the end of the world with him. But not like this. You had made that promise under the impression that there was no other choice. That Five couldn’t be saved. That, at some point, he would suffer a fate worse than this one. But, now, there’s a way for him to survive… even at the cost of accepting that you can’t.

“You’re running out of time, Five. Seven bells, remember? You can start over. Go on that road trip, like you always dreamed about. There’s still so much of the world to see.”

“But you won’t be there.”

“Then do it for me. Please, Five,” you sob. “I don’t want this to be my fault.”

“Don’t even think that. This isn’t your fault. You were just trying to save me, remember? I’m not upset with you. I just… I can’t do this without you, Y/N. Please.”

The last thing you want to do is to go. You hate the thought of leaving Five. How is it fair that you’ll have to part just as you’ve finally found your way to each other? 

“Please,” he says again. “I can’t lose you.”

Lose.

You’re hit with the realization that, at the Commission, Five hadn’t been talking to you. He was talking about you.

Don’t save the world, he had said. Or lose everything that matters. And here you all are, trying to save the world. Apparently, that effort comes with the price of losing you. Everything. Moments before his death, a life lived almost twice as long, and he had called you his everything. 

It’s kind of poetic, isn’t it?

You stifle a laugh. First, because nothing should be comedic in the slightest right now. Second, because you’re scared to drown in your own blood as it climbs your throat.

“Can you still feel me?” he asks, pressing his thumb against the palm of your hand.

No, you can’t. You nod, anyway.

Somewhere downstairs, you hear Reginald call for Five.

He shakes his head like he might be trying to drown it out. But you know, somewhere inside him, his conscience urges him to go — to fight for the greater good because that’s just how he is. That’s how great of a person Five Hargreeves is.

“I’m coming back, alright?” He lifts you as he tries to kneel, setting you back down as gently as he can. He rests a hand to your cheek, coated in crimson, and places a kiss to the crown of your head before standing. He moves like it hurts him to go.

It might hurt worse to see him stay.

“I’m going to figure this out, and I’m coming back for you. I promise, I’ll come back for you.”

“Okay,” you whimper despite the pain because he looks like he needs it. He needs to hear a verbal confirmation that you’ll be alright and that you’ll see each other again and that, miraculously, this won’t be the end.

But it is. It will be.

“I love you,” he whispers into your skin, sounding all too similar to I’m sorry.

When he leaves, he takes the light with him and all you’re left with is the dark.

tags (i’ll try to include everyone if i write another multi-part fic and you guys want me to remind you when the next part is posted. in the meantime, I hope you enjoy!) : @reinaeru

[autumn-sweet-fae]

ok inspired by this post you reblogged—

imagine them double battling trainers and both doing the thing- It’d go viral online if there is footage taken from that and imagine all the theories of Akari being Ingo & Emmets relatives blow up even more lmao—

Yes! @braparty art is so cute!! I especially love Ingo and Akari’s with expressions!

And I originally was gonna respond with something short but then this got so far away from me, so enjoy!

-

The first time Akari struck that pose beside Ingo had been at Mr. Dagero’s photo studio. 

Ingo has had a appreciation for photography from the moment he had learned of the little shops opening. The warden started stopping by every so often to get a new photo of his Pokémon and their new evolutions. Then, as he made friends with those in the security corps he would politely request that they stand for a photo, which they were happy to do so. (Zisu even hung the photo of them all together in her office at the dojo.) Ingo would gather these keepsakes in a small book that he’d keep in his pocket at all times. For him, having a physical image of past events and friends gave him a sense of security, as they were much less ephemeral than his own memory.

Then came the morning that he encountered miss Akari at the studio. He requested she do him the honor of posing with him for a photo and she was happy to do so. It turned out she had developed her own fondness for photography for the same reasons he had.

Of the many photos they had taken that day, the one that stood out the most to him had been the one where Akari had mimicked him. In the photo itself she had also copied his frown but when she had asked him if she was doing the pose right she had the biggest grin. He couldn’t understand the weird mix of emotions he felt at seeming this person who he cares so much for copying his pose. He knew it had an important meaning to him in his life before Hisui, and to see someone else doing it along side him… it meant something.

Much later, after discovering Ingos lost Arc- transceiver and being tasked to collect dozens of Hisuis regional Pokemon, Akari and Ingo find themselves traversing the Coronet highlands in the pouring rain to track down a reported flock of Rowlets.

They’re forced to take to a long winding route through the mountains as the rain makes climbing to slippery for Ingo, and Lady Sneasler is  currently unavailable to aid them. Akari is excited to learn the reason is that noble is expecting a clutch of eggs and has spent the week nesting in her den in preparation. But, as happy as that news is, Akari can tell that Ingo seems almost sad when he tells her about it. It takes her a moment to realize the reason. At the rate they currently are catching Pokémon, by the time the eggs hatch Ingo and Akari will have long returned to their home beyond space and time, never to see Sneasler and her babies again.

Akari is at a loss for words for what to say. Ingo stays stone faced as always, moving forward in the rain. Akari hurries after only for Ingo to suddenly stop and throw his arm our in front of her to halt her advance. She realizes something must be blocking the path up ahead and goes silent. Nodding to each other, under the cover of the storm, Akari creeps forward to get a look at what Ingo saw.

There, standing side by side in the center of the road, are the bandit sisters Clover and Coin. Clearly they were planing on ganging up on and robbing any travelers who unfortunate enough to cross their path. And yet Akari can only grin as she turns back to Ingo. She suggest they both take on the bandits together, with her Typhlosion, Dusk, vs Clovers Abomasnow, and his Gliscor vs Coins Toxicroak! Whoever makes their opponent drop first wins!

The thought of a double battle starts to bring back Ingo’s energy. In all his time in Hisui he had yet to experience one and yet the idea feels so familiar. Akari’s excitement is infections and she’s so happy to see how Ingo’s eye have lit up at her suggestion.

The two confront the bandits and, on a pure whim, Akari follows Ingo’s lead and mirrors his pose as he orders the sisters to stand clear of the tracks or risk their safety. The sheer volume of the command gives away his enthusiasm and joy of the moment. The battle may be a short one but it’s a battle none the less, and to have someone he cares for grinning by his side and pointing with him as he declares their challenge feels so familiar. He knows he’s done this before, in his life before Hisui.

The sisters try to stand their ground and intimidate the two but they’re partners are at a severe disadvantage. Ingo’s Gliscor moves first and KO’s Toxicroak in one shot, while Dusks makes short work of Abomasnow. The bandits are pissed and promise their revenge before vanishing in a puff of smoke.

After gathering their rewards Ingo and Akari spend the rest of the trek to the Rowlet outbrake theorizing potential combos and duo match ups of double battles. Both are so excited at unlocking the memory of the existence of the battle method. They agree they they’ll need to start offering this battle style at the training grounds once they get back! If only so they can have trainers to battle.

By the time they reach the future and are challenged by modern trainers to double battles, Ingo and Akari have become a formidable duo! They have a good read on each other and can usually predict the other next move. Akari still mirrors Ingo’s pose every time they battle together because she can see the way he lights up when she does and also they look so cool.

Someone of course captures a picture and post it online, and tags #LikeFatherLikeDaughter and #SubwayBossJr starts trending. Emmet has allot of mixed feelings when he sees the pose of them together.

[blzzrdstryr]

Prima materia

Yandere!Kaeya & Yandere!Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount: 4156

CW: Yandere themes, mentions of violence, death and NSFW

An angel.

That’s what Kaeya thinks when he sees you - he’s far from being a religious person, yet this word appears in his mind, vivid and burning, pushing out any other thought away. He stands here, starstruck and unsure what to do, devouring your visage with his eye alone.

Your first meeting is incidental - he walks around the Mondstadt, looking for the leads for the recent mass disappearance case. An alarming number of people went missing right before the Windrise festival. All are destitute alcoholics with no real importance, all except one - Javier Lawrence, who in this case is a rich alcoholic, and a reason why investigation even started. Mondstadt may be a nation of freedom, yet money and status still dominate most of its social dynamics.

Kaeya goes to Eula first - Javier was her twice removed cousin after all, she ought to know something. The spindrift knight is restrained in her speech, careful not to insult her missing relative, despite the deepening frown. She says almost nothing new, stating that Javier had a passion for drinking and wasting his days away, she also mentions his favourite places to wander while drunk - gardens, plaza and the forest outside the city.

Visits to the first two bear no fruits - Kaeya doesn’t find any eyewitnesses, but hears tons upon the tons of complaints and insults directed at the missing, so he heads for the forest, expecting to find the mangled body among the heaps of green leaves - being drunk in the forest deep is never a good idea, yet he finds none. He stumbles upon you instead.

You sit among the wild flowers and bitter herbs, head bowed, closely inspecting the plants in your hands and humming a light tune as you do so. There’s a certain serenity about you, some kind of magical elegance radiating off of every movement, it’s deliberate, yet relaxed. You remind him of the forest nymph from the paintings he saw - celestial and seductive, and totally unaware of the effect you have on him.

This feeling is further exacerbated by the simple white shirt you're wearing - the material is thin and half-transparent, already revealing the outline of your torso. Kaeya gulps when he imagines it getting wet and clinging to your body, your skin and nipples showing through the flimsy fabric. The only thing that spoils this otherwise perfect sight are small dark bruises both hands, blooming like two ominous roses.

“Hello”, he finally suppresses lustful urges and steps closer, distracting you from the herb picking. “My name’s Kaeya Alberich, I am the cavalry captain of the Knight of Favonius, and I want you to answer a couple of my questions”.

You turn unnaturally still upon hearing his voice, hands squeezing the plants, even your breathing is impossible to hear. You are terrified. Kaeya turns his head to the side at this picture, eyebrows raised - this is… a very interesting reaction.

“I am sorry, I am not allowed to talk to strangers”, you say, finally collecting yourself and raising your head to meet his eye, and Kaeya finds himself struck again.

Stars.

You have star-shaped pupils. Just like him.

He makes a step again, back this time, as his chest starts to rise and fall faster, breathing accelerating. Why do you have these eyes? He thought he was the only one left…

“Sir Kaeya, what brings you here?”he hears a familiar voice. Albedo comes from the forest deep, quickly striding to him and then stopping between you and the cavalry captain. Alchemist's face remains indifferent and his tone impassive, yet through the haze of confusion and shock Kaeya still notes how he protectively put himself between you two, as if shielding you from his gaze.

“Investigation. I thought asking… this lovely person a couple of questions might help solve the case”, he flashes one of his most charming smiles to Albedo, who predictably remains apathetic towards such displays. You, on the other hand, still sit on the forest ground and have your eyes shifting between Kaeya and Albedo, with fear and hope respectively.

“I am afraid you won’t find any answers here. They are under my care, and they don’t know anything about whatever your case is”. Albedo’s voice still remains polite, but Kaeya can taste the hidden hostility, he almost backs off from surprise.

“Well, that’s unfortunate”, he admits defeat and puts on a smile again - it’s a colder one this time, less genuine - and turns on his heels, throwing “have a nice day” as the afterthought, insides burning with the strange mix of disappointment and resentment.

He almost leaves the forest, as he hears Albedo talking to you: “It’s alright, [First], I won't punish you for speaking to him, he asked you first”. You reply something, but Kaeya is too far to make out any of your lovely voice, yet the things he witnessed today are enough to spawn a horde of questions.

Why does Albedo act so possessive? Why do you allow him to do so? What connects you two together? And most importantly: Who are you?

Thousand different theories fleet through his mind, as he mulls over new information. He doesn’t come back to that place, despite his curiosity nagging him to do so, he can’t - Kaeya is now acutely aware of the power Albedo seems to hold over you and returning might anger the alchemist.

Cavalry captain returns to the case of missing people, yet his mind continues to wander off, thought returning to your face and voice and body and the colossal mystery cloaking you.

***

Investigation progresses unbelievably slowly - if he was a gullible person, Kaeya would’ve thought that all of the missing just vanished into thin air - no leads, no traces, not a single clue of what might have happened, leaving the knights with nothing but straws to grasp at. To add to the severity of the situation after a week of receiving the case from Jean, Kaeya is notified about the new disappearance of two other people - Joachim and Luckas. They’re also a pair of alcoholics, the first one was last seen around the Angel’s Share, the second one was heading for the Dragonspine.

Kaeya goes to the said tavern - at first he just talks with the patrons, effortlessly fishing out the information about the missing person, which brings nothing new (again), then he gets a bit bored with drunk-interrogating others and decides to ask Diluc what he might’ve seen. And that also reveals nothing new (again) - Joachim has visited the tavern, ordered some wine and after a couple of bottles downed, left. Nothing extraordinary or groundbreaking, just a day of another Mondstadtian drunkard.

It seems that he isn’t destined to find whatever spirited Joachim away, so Kaeya leaves the city heading for the snowy mountain in the distance. He asks around the adventurers camp near the ruined tower, only to hear that Luckas was seen around the mountain.

Kaeya walks to the Dragonspine, already feeling the chill at the foot of the mountain, and his determination slowly melts - Dragonspine is one big freezing hellhole, full of monsters and Fatuis who for some reason decided to reside here, yet one particular face appears in his mind. Seeing you again might be worth the whole trouble - he noticed you a couple of times, always in the company of the certain alchemist, so if Albedo is in his camp, then you’re most likely there too.

Now inspired Kaeya quickly traverses the mountain, skillfully avoiding the hilichurl tribes and skirmishes altogether. After a short, yet frankly gruelling travel he finds himself finally arriving at the camp, your figure seen from the entrance. You sit near the alchemical device, tightly bundled up in layers upon layers of warm clothes, a book in your hands with no Albedo in sight. The alchemical apparatus is on, dyeing the whole room into scarlet shades, something red boiling inside of it, filling the air with the strange metallic scent. “Recent history of Teyvat”, Kaeya reads the cover and takes a step in. You remain still, too engrossed in reading to hear his footsteps, which he uses to take another good look at you.

Your face still looks lovely as it was on that day, yet there’s now a strong aura of frailness present - a greyish undertone of the skin, dry, chapped lips, pinkish-red rims blooming on your eyes, duller hair, even the fingers holding the books appear to be thinner. You look emaciated and exhausted, you must be sick.

“Hello”, Kaeya decides to pop the bubble of tranquility again - you quickly lift your head to look at him and almost drop the book: “We met before, in the forest, remember? I am here because of an investigation”.

“I am sorry, but I don’t think I can be of any help and I am still not allowed to talk to strangers”, you say and return to reading, pretending that he isn’t here.

“Well, that means we can introduce ourselves, so we won’t be strangers anymore and you will be able to talk to me without breaking any rules, right? Hello! I am Kaeya Alberich and I work as cavalry captain in the Knights of Favonius, pleased to meet you!”, he puts on his warmest smile and outstretches his hand to shake yours.

“I am not sure that this is a good idea, Albedo warned me to avoid outsiders”, you say, looking uneasy, as you throw a quick glance, past Kaeya, to the entrance of the camp.

“Albedo and I are coworkers, we both even had to work on some missions together, sure he doesn’t think of me as some outsider”.

“If you say so”, you sigh and cave in, your palm finally touching his. Kaeya feels the corners of his lips creeping up at the sensation, his heart skipping a beat or two: “I am [First} and I am… Albedo’s ward, pleased to meet you too”

“Now with introductions done, can I ask you a question?”, he takes another step and you nod - a step more and he might feel the warmth radiating off of your body, or hear your faint breathing, or smell your scent.

“Where are you from?”, your eyes widen at that. Kaeya finds himself almost hypnotized by this sight: the stars in your eyes shine with a renewed strength, the pale sunlight bringing out their warmth and radiance.

“I don’t really remember”, you admit, voice quiet and small: “Albedo says he found…”

“I discovered [First] in the heart of the mountain”, alchemist ends it for you, standing at the entrance of his camp with both of his assistants by the side, hands occupied by the local flora.

“Timaeus, sort and prepare ingredients”, he hands the herbs to the man: “Sucrose, you check up on [First] and give them.. the medicine, don’t worry I’ll just talk to sir Kaeya there”, Timaeus and Sucrose rush to the assigned task, with the latter taking out a red vial from the alchemical drawer, the liquid inside shimmering and glowing with an unnatural glitter. The last part is said to you, as alchemist gestures for the cavalry captain to go outside, quickly leaving the room.

Kaeya follows him as they both leave the camp - Albedo walks unusually quickly, not looking around even once to check if he’s still behind, and only when the both of them leave the camp far enough - so far that you, Timaeus and Sucrose turn into a small dots does he stop.

“What do you need? Why did you interrogate [First]?”, Albedo says, skipping all of the courtesies. His voice remains neutral, but Kaeya can feel the displeasure - it radiates off of his pose and faster speech, how Kreideprinz’s disinterested eyes suddenly turned cold and piercing.

“Easy, easy”, Kaeya half-laughs, raising his hands in mock defence: “interrogate is a strong word here, we two just had a friendly chat”.

Teal eyes narrow at this whimsical answer and alchemist’s face sours: “Leave [First] alone”, he voices, darkly and angrily - Kaeya almost backs off from surprise - it’s quite unusual to see Albedo express his disdain so freely and openly, yet he replies in the same carefree tone:

“I won’t, not until you say where they’re from at least. [First] has star-shaped pupils, we both know what it means”.

“I already have said that - I found [First] deep underneath the mountain, completely frozen. Cold must have trapped them in the ice and preserved their body for all these years, yet it also damaged their memory. They seem to be unaware of what happened to your homeland five hundred years ago, nor do they have any idea of the present world". Kaeya intently observes Albedo as he says that - alchemist is certainly hiding something.

"That's how.. Well, I wish [First] good luck in retrieving their memories", he decides not to press further - Albedo is already in a bad mood and won't tolerate him fishing for more information, nor will the alchemist agree to share what he hides. Kaeya asks him a couple of questions pertaining to the missing person and he gets the expected answer - Luckas wasn't seen by Albedo or any of his assistants either. Alchemist says it a bit quicker than he usually talks, Kaeya chalks it up to annoyance.

***

The first useful lead appears after the third disappearance this month - Masha Haedle, who was characterized as hardworking and passionate, yet troubled by her alcohol addiction, vanished on the way to her job. Her employer sent one letter after another, demanding her to visit her workplace, lest she will be fired. Haedle didn’t answer any of the messages, nor was she spotted anywhere in the next few days.

It was her concerned neighbours who notified the knights, who quickly connected her disappearance to the series of other missing cases and Kaeya was dispatched again - he decided to start by investigating her house and he was right in doing so.

Her place is barren, but tidy, Haedle's diligence and financial issues shining through the simple interior. Kaeya strides among the neatly cleaned house until he enters a small bedroom.

Unlike the rest of the place, the bed here is undone, sheets lay messily across the nightstand and floor, with a couple of plant pots knocked over, dry soil sprawled everywhere. He comes closer to this picture, taking in the small details - there's a trace of fingernails on the wood, as if the victim was latching onto the furniture as she was dragged back, a part of the sheets is actually burnt, with a small candle crushed on the floor - it could be knocked down when kidnapper attacked Masha, and the most glaring piece - an orange dimly glowing crystal.

It crumbles and disintegrates the same second Kaeya picks it up, but this short moment is enough to feel the warmth radiating off of it - it's a geo crystal, formed by the reaction with pyro.

Whoever attacked miss Haedle was using a geo vision to put out the fire, and might also be the reason of other disappearances. After all, a vision user kidnapping the drunkards is just as nonsensical as said drunks just vanishing into thin air, leaving nothing behind.

***

Mondstadt embraces the Windrise festival with the same warmth it always did, as citizens of all sorts start to prepare for the coming festivities. Some decorate their houses with dried and paper flowers that they consider anemones, others stock up on both sweets and wine, no doubt for a celebratory dinner, bards recite the new songs, praising the anemo archon and caroling the freedom that Barbatos gave them, and knights, both high and low ranks alike are piled with even more work.

Kaeya finds himself temporarily dispatched from the dead-end investigation, tasked to look out for any suspicious persons and possible lawbreakers, as a horde of tourists and traders flooded the city. He spends the entire day working, and catches a breather once the sun starts to set. This break, however, is swiftly interrupted, when Jean summons him, asking to deliver some messages to Albedo for the lack of workforce.

Unsurprisingly, the alchemist spends his time outside of the city in a temporary camp, preferring the fresh air and forest landscape to the human loudness and cheer. He finds you alone again, with Albedo nowhere to be seen. Seems that whatever disease has plagued you started to back off - your tone is still far from healthy, yet it stopped being so ashy and grey like the first time, and your starry eyes no longer look like you’ve cried all night non-stop.

You stand near the table, slowly sorting the alchemical compounds, with both sleeves rolled up, exposing the delicate, elegant wrists and the old bruising on the forearms. The setting sun almost lights your visage on fire - you look brighter, more vivid, than you did under the pale Dragonspine sun or the cool shadow of the forest. You look like you glow too.

Even with the fatigue, he still smiles - ah, you’re so easy on the eyes, he rests just by looking at you..

“Hello”, he approaches, distracting you from your task for the third time: “is Albedo here?”.

“He left some time ago, he wanted to sketch hilichurl tribe. Said it’s too dangerous for me, so I am just standing here, waiting for him”, Kaeya can sense a mild disappointment coming from you, which is not surprising - spending your time in the wilderness, while the city before you is set ablaze in the celebration can frustrate anyone. He gets an idea.

“I see you want to see the Windrise for yourself, am I right?”, your affirmative nod, “How about I accompany you to Mondstadt and we both have some fun?”.

“I would really want to, but Albedo asked me to stay here. I don’t want to disappoint him”, you reply, the hesitation in your voice clear as day.

“And you won't!”Kaeya retorts: “I will take all the blame, say that I spirited you away with my persuasion skills”, he adds dramatically and outstretches his palm in a theatrical gesture. You giggle at that, obviously entertained by his antics.

“Alright, you’ve convinced me”, you take his hand, before asking: “this is why you came? To invite me to a festival?”

Oh, he forgot about messages.

Kaeya leaves them in the secure box you pointed to, before taking your hand again and almost running back to Monstadt. Something tells him that Albedo will be livid once he returns to the now empty camp.

***

“Oh gods”, you gasp, looking at the burst of colors exploding in the night sky - some travelers have brought fireworks from Liyue and Inazuma and decided to set them off, creating a breathtaking scenery. Kaeya even forgets how to breathe, but not because of the fireworks, but you - you look so excited and amazed, and all kinds of colours reflect from your eyes, the stars in them resembling two large diamonds. He’s ready to kill for this sight.

The next half an hour are spent with him following you, as you excitedly run from one thing or another - turns out Albedo didn’t allow you much outside time, so even the main streets of Mondstadt are novelty to you. He drinks in your reactions, all the faces and sounds you make are stored away in his memory as you get amazed by the simplest things.

In the end, he decides to take you to the Angel’s Share, you’re already so cute and he can’t imagine how much more adorable you’ll become all drunk and giggly. He orders a bottle of a young wine for you two - made from the spring dandelions, it’s taste is perfect for the atmosphere of Windrise - it tastes of freedom and adventure, the spirit of Mondstadt encapsulated into a beverage.

“It tastes nice”, you comment, taking a small sip, “it’s sweet but not too sweet”, before your face suddenly contorts from pain and you bend in half, hands clutching your abdomen.

“[First]? What’s happening, [First]?”Kaeya rushes to you, his hands stopping your fall. You mumble something incoherent, before going limp in his hold - you are unconscious. He shakes your form to wake you up, yet you don’t respond, inner panic slowly rising - what to do, what to do, what to do?

“Did you give alcohol to [First]?!”, suddenly someone hisses near him. It’s Albedo again and it’s the first time Kaeya sees him so angry. “We need to get [First] to my lab quickly. Every second counts”, Albedo helps him to lift you up and almost runs out from the tavern, pushing others away to make way for Kaeya and you in his hands.

“Put them here”, alchemist point to the big wooden table, quickly knocking over all empty flasks down, uncaring of the equipment he might break, as he rushes into the further part of the room, taking out the already on alchemical apparatus from the depths of his cabinets.

The strange red liquid slushes inside, as Albedo swiftly opens the top and adds some hideous mix of blood and pieces of flesh into the device, the reek of blood and alcohol permeating the air.

Kaeya wants to gag. “What’s this?”, he asks, not bothering to hide his disgust.

“Medicine”, Albedo quickly replies, teal eyes shifting from the mix to your sick face.

Over time the stench subsides, and apparatus starts to glow and shimmer with that scarlet radiance Kaeya saw in the Dragonspine camp, replacing the stink with the same strange coppery scent. Albedo takes out a glass vial from his pocket and connects it to the faucet of the apparatus, collecting the fat drops of the produced liquid.

Kaeya takes a good look at the product, mesmerized by the strange glitter and shimmer - it looks alive, and then suddenly everything clicks - the origin of medicine, the smell of alcohol coming from meat and even the disappearances of the drunkards. He remembers the tales his father used to tell him, about khemia and the wonders and horrors it could unleash - artificial humans, endless gold and…

“Philosopher’s stone”, he breathes out, utterly shocked by his revelation.

“How? How did you know”, Albedo looks at him with scared eyes, almost dropping the vial with “medicine”.

“Why?! Why did you do that?!”Kaeya yells instead of answering the question, still shocked and horrified, a taste of bile appearing on his tongue.

Alchemist seems unsure and totally lost for a good minute, as his usually calm face rapidly shifts between different emotions: sadness, shock, horror, shame and even anger, until finally resulting into the expression of total defeat: “It’s for [First]’s sake”, he tiredly admits the dark secret: “The frost has severely damaged their internal organs. I’ve been trying to heal them, but to no avail”.

“So you decided to break alchemical laws and create the elixir of life”, Kaeya grimly concludes, face scrunching up from disgust.

“Yes”, an unsettling lips makes its way onto the alchemist's lips as he lifts his head and looks captain right in the eye: “I’ve broken the laws, killed people and used their bodies. All to save [First]. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same, I’ve seen how you stare at [First] and I know what you want to do with them”.

.Was he that obvious?

“I see”, Kaeya replies, sensing the growing headache and rubbing his temples: “I won’t tell others of what you’ve done”. He can’t just imprison Albedo and doom you to a slow, agonizing death.

“I knew you would agree with me”, alchemist sighs “[First] is getting healthier, they won’t need… medicine as often, yet their organs will never be in a top condition”.

“How many?”

“What?”

“How many people per year?”

Albedo turns quiet again, the creepy smile vanishing as quickly as it appeared, as his eyes adopt that contemplating look again.

“No more than three people. Once I fix that liver damage you gave [First] with your wine, they won’t need no more than three transfusions”, he says his verdict and Kaeya weighs his words - three missing people per year is a miniscule number.

“I make at most philosopher’s stones per year and you cover my tracks in exchange for time with [First]. Deal?”, Albedo extends his hand for a handshake and Kaeya takes it, yet doesn’t shake it, asking instead:

“Can I get to taste [First]?”, he smiles, remembering your face and imagining your body.

“If [First] consents to that, then yes”, Albedo becomes that inexpressive again, yet he can still feel the displeasure and indignation coming from alchemist’s answer.

“I am sure they will, I think they like me”, he finally shakes the other’s arm.

They sit in a silence for a while, before the vial gets completely filled by the “medicine” - Albedo takes out a syringe and injects the mixture into your bloodstream through the veins on the hands. Kaeya smiles even wider, looking how a healthy colour returns to your face - he can’t wait to reap the fruits of this agreement.

[pjisskullourful]

. . . . . ╰──╮𝕘𝕒𝕪 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙╭──╯ . . . . .

🌈Damiano × Ethan × reader

OFFICIAL[UNEXPECTED] CHAPTER4--- directly follows on from part3

NSFW!  🔥  smut of the kinkiest filthiest degree dirrrty-talkin unashamedly sexy sexytimes

° Damiano David & Ethan Torchio & female reader insert [throuple style]

°  "we figured that this, all three of us together, it works so well. Too well for us to put an end to it. So what if you were a dork with us and we made this power of three exclusive?” - 4 months later, still thriving on love, respect & trust, even through unexpected revelations in the unconventional relationship & unsolicited opinions from outsiders

wordcount:      19,599

° shoutsout: @superchrystaldrug for requesting this whole concept 💋 @filthforfriends for putting shibari-extraordinaire ethan into my head  💋 @simp-per-ethan​ for insisting i bring it into existence 💋

“Maybe we should go, I think it’s time to call it a day. If I haven’t been struck by inspiration yet, I don’t think it’s gonna happen at all.”

You had barely finished speaking when you yelped, jumping forward, instantly needing to get away from an unexpected sensation against the small of your back. You spun around, seeking to find the source of the brief buzzing.

You shouldn’t have been surprised to find Damiano standing behind you, a bright orange personal massager in hand. He was still wearing that devious smile that had been on his face since taking the first step into the adult toy store.

He feigned innocence, turning the vibrator off. “What? Just trying to strike you with some inspiration.”

The wiggling dance of his eyebrows was cut short when you snatched the toy out of his grasp. “This is officially the worst idea I’ve ever had.”

“Which part - the offering to throw your big sister's bachelorette party? Or bringing us to help with the supplies?”

You had been desperate to get in on any part of planning your sister’s wedding. You felt the responsibility to step in for all of the family members who wanted absolutely nothing to do with the event. Nadia’s fiancé had accepting parents who were going to be sitting in the front row for the momentous day. Nadia had been left to ask one of her guy friends to walk her down the aisle, to fill the absence of any support from your father.

You had probably been too eager, agreeing to everything Nadia and her maid of honour had offered you. It hadn’t been until you were driving home from the café that the awkward reality had dawned upon you - planning your sister’s last night of debauchery before she dedicated the rest of her life to one sexual partner.

All of the bachelorette parties you had attended had been a lot of shameless fun (you still had a couple of penis-shaped straws, acquired on these wild nights). And you couldn’t stand the thought of hosting a lacklustre party for your sister, no matter the theme.

You had gone to Ethan to panic first - your boyfriend of only four months, he had somehow known exactly how to calm you down. He kept your vape cartridge topped up, letting you vent yourself into a better, clearer headspace. When you had run out of words, he had reassured you that this task could be conquered. He had immediately opened Pinterest, promising you that he would help you take the ick factor out of this process as much as possible.

Damiano had been very proactive, seeing absolutely no reason why you couldn’t throw the perfect hens night. In fact, he had known exactly which shop to suggest in your hunt for supplies.

That was how the three of you had ended up at Gattino Cattivo, strolling through the many aisles of the adult store, a basket in your hand.

But there was a pitifully small amount of items held in the shopping basket (a banner and a badge both reading bride to be, a pack of gummy boobs in all flavours, a deck of naughty dare scratch cards). Damiano had been running all through the sections, as enthusiastic as a child in a candy store.

After almost two hours of wandering through the unfamiliar store, your current mood was the exact opposite of Damiano’s. You couldn’t be feeling any less encouraged - planning this party now felt even more difficult.

“All of it.” You said, pushing your hair out of your face as you huffed out an exasperated sigh. “I get why you thought it would be a good idea to come here, this is probably our best shot of getting anything, but- shit, what do you even get a lesbian from a shop like this? Literally, everything is just penis.” You started to point at the shelves and racks around you. “Penis, penis, penis, penis, penis, penis.”

He maintained his good-humoured smile. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

You let your shoulders drop. “I’m not having fun, Daddy.”

He moved closer, cupping your face in his hands and guiding your head back so you would meet his eyes. “I know, and it’s frustrating, but it’s not like we’ve accomplished nothing. Gummy boobs.” He snatched up the bag of candy. “Gummies in the shape of boobs. Hello, are you seeing this? This is the coolest party favour ever. What else do you need for a lesbians’ hens night?”

“What else do you need in life?” You asked, smiling.

“I can’t think of anything better.” He said and kissed you quickly, keeping his nose against yours - giving you a moment to collect yourself, an anchor to save you from spiralling off into your emotions. “It’s a start, baby. And we have so much time, we can order online. We have so much time to get creative - between the three of us, we are gonna be able to cook up something great, something sexy.

“But not too sexy. Maybe Ethan has found something good. Where did he go?”

“Uh, I dunno.”

“You lost my boyfriend?” Damiano asked dramatically.

“He’s my boyfriend too.”

Damiano sprang up onto his tip-toes, trying to get a clearer view of your surroundings. “He’s never been in a shop like this before, his head might explode. He has, like, three toys at his place, three. And one of them I had to buy for him.”

You rolled your eyes as you followed after him. “Maybe he left a breadcrumb trail for us to follow.”

You happened upon Ethan in an aisle that had a sickly sweet scent hanging over it. He was seated on the ground before some shelves, quietly inspecting boxes of all different sizes.

He had his back to where you approached, allowing you and Damiano to observe him. There was something about this sight that brought a smile to your face - it was unexpected, but at once it was perfectly Ethan.

“How does he do it?” You whispered. “How does he stay so cute and pure- even when he’s studying a bunch of bottles of lube?”

“He’s wearing a harness.”

Your eyes grew wide as you spotted the thick red straps now worked around his torso. “Where did he…? He just found that and popped it on, did he?”

“Wait here.” Damiano whispered. “I have an idea.”

You didn’t bother pondering on what kind of perverted plan he was dreaming up, the realm of possibilities for that was practically endless. You just watched Ethan as he obliviously went about this solo task. You were willing to concede that this outing hadn’t been a complete waste of time - the enthusiasm of both your boyfriends was very endearing, and observing this was far better than washing dirty dishes, as Bert had been insisting you do.  

Damiano reappeared at your side, showing you the leash now in his hands. “Let’s see how pure and cute our boyfriend really is… I’ll distract him and you can hook this onto the harness.”

You licked your lips as you accepted the accessory from him, testing the closure and how quickly it could be snapped shut. “After you…”

He grinned and began towards the unsuspecting man. “Excuse me, sir…” Ethan instantly looked up. “Do you know where they keep the size extra extra extra extra extra extra extra…” Damiano paused, theatrically taking in a deep breath. “...extra large condoms?”

Ethan shook his head a little as Damiano crouched down beside him. “Sorry, bro. I wouldn’t know where to find those, ‘cause I only ever buy the extra extra extra extra extra extra extra…” You attempted to keep track, counting these out on your fingers. “...extra extra large.”

Damiano placed himself in front of Ethan, trying to distract him by playing with his hair. “What kind of trouble have you been getting into?”

“No trouble, I actually found something that could be good…” He glanced in your direction, smiling as you crouched down behind him. “Hey baby, tell me what you think of this…” You nodded attentively, meanwhile wrapping your arms around him (the leash concealed in your left hand). “I think it’s classy, but still sexy enough to be handed out at a hens party…”

He held up the box for you to read the gold cursive. “It’s a candle but it’s also massage oil, so as it melts- ooh sexy oil, for sexy rubbing, right? Or it can just be a fancy-looking candle.”

“That’s cool.” You said, kissing him on the cheek as you hooked a finger through the o-ring at the centre of his chest. “We should get some for us…”

“Yeah.” Damiano said, opening a box and taking a deep inhale. “Strawberry and champagne, that’s nice- don’t you think, love?”

As soon as Ethan’s head was bowed to sniff, your thumb depressing the latch until the closure was opened. You attached the leash to the harness, tipping a wink to Damiano.

“Yeah, that one is nice. Does your sister like strawberries?” Ethan asked.

“Um…”

“Salted caramel, that’s what I’m talking about.” Damiano said, leaning forward to offer the candle for you to smell. “How about that one?”

He placed the candle under your nose, sliding his other hand over to where Ethan’s knee was resting. You moved your hand to overlap Damiano’s, which he twisted, manipulating the length of the leash into his own hand. He winked back at you.

“Maybe something spicier for us.” You said.

Ethan clicked his fingers in front of Damiano’s face, then in yours. “For your sister though, I was thinking Nadia gets the big one and then these smaller sizes as party favours for the rest. Classy, no?”

“It’s a really nice idea.” You said. “I think they’ll like it a lot. But how do we pick out which scents for-”

“Excuse me, do you need help finding something?” An unfamiliar voice asked.

You jumped to your feet, having instant flashbacks to being chased out of Ikea. “Sorry, we were just trying to-”

“We’re fine, thanks.” Ethan said, getting up. “Picking what we need, we’ll give a shout if we- oof…” His movements halted when the leash was pulled taut and he stumbled half a step. He looked down to where Damiano waved to him. “Sonofa- how?”

“Sorry, you just look so good in that harness.” Damiano said.

“You really do, like, you look too good. We have to buy this.” You said.

“Yeah, okay.” Ethan smiled at you.

Damiano lifted the basket out of Ethan’s hand. “What else did you get your grubby hands on? Ooh, hello…” He pulled out a purple penis-shaped lollipop.

You put a hand over your mouth, trying to contain a laugh. You couldn’t help a snort slipping out, causing both of them to look your way. “Sorry, I just had a very inappropriate thought pop into my head. But it’s… I’m not gonna say it.”

“I should hope not.” Damiano said. “Could you imagine the scene that would cause here, in this sex toy shop?”

“Well now you have to say it…” Ethan encouraged.

You laughed a little again. “I was wondering if that was modelled after, but obviously not to scale, the dick of Barney the dinosaur.”

“Oh yeah, fuck me back to prehistoric times with that dino-dick daddy.” He said as Damiano dissolved into fits of laughter.

“And when we get back there - even though religion hasn’t been invented yet, I’m gonna make you see God.” You said, doing your best to keep a straight face as you stared Ethan down.

He chuckled a little, fanning himself with a hand. “Great, let’s go.”

Damiano was twirling the candy around in one hand. “So this one you want, but when I offered you the candy ball-gag- oh, that just wasn’t good enough for you?”

“Candy ball-gag?” You repeated, unsure of when you had missed that interaction.

“Yeah, they’re wasteful. One use and that’s it? And that’s even if you want to eat the candy after having it in your mouth for so long, if you aren’t physically sick from the taste.” Ethan said.

“In theory- they sound cute. But we would definitely need something far stronger to keep that one quiet.” You said, pointing to Damiano. “You’d be silenced for about two seconds.”

“Literally, he’d chew through it so fast ‘cause he thought up, like, a hundred things to say.” Ethan said and snatched his sugary treat back. “And I grabbed this because it’s grape, which happens to be my favourite. And, I love sucking cock, so it works on both levels.”

You had inched closer to peer into his basket. “What else did you find?”

“Nothing, really. Well, nothing for your sister, at least. Something for me, or us, I guess.” He picked up the largest package in his basket. “Only if you guys are game.”

You read the label, only able to think up vague possibilities of what it could be used for. Spreader bar, it boasted being adjustable - up to twenty-six inches. At the moment it looked like three separate black rods and you wondered if thinking that it went between your ankles was the too obvious answer, the too vanilla answer.

“Spread her? I hardly know her.” Damiano joked.

“Not just spreading her.” Ethan tapped Damiano’s forehead with the bars. “I don’t know how sturdy it’ll be and the locks probably aren’t all that reliable, but it could be fun. What do you think, avida?”

“I’ve actually never…” You cleared your throat, wanting to hide your naivety. “I’ve never seen one of those, it spreads…”

“Legs.” Damiano said.

“Oh, oh. Yeah, that could be fun.” You smiled, bouncing up a bit taller.

“I’m gonna go ask if we can work out some kind of deal for a discount if we buy heaps of candles.”

Ethan didn’t get very far before the slack of the leash ran out, keeping him tethered to Damiano. Ethan sighed, looking back at the laughing man.

Damiano released his hand from the other end. “Sorry.”

“Okay, are there any things you saw, but didn’t mention before?” You asked. “You have the floor- wow me, Mr David.”

He took a moment to centre himself and you prepared yourself for a spectacular, completely unique idea. “Pottery.”

“Pottery?”

“Erotic pottery.” He said and you nodded, now understanding how this idea fit in with the rest of the filth littering his brain. “They take a class, they have some wine, maybe they start re-enacting that bit from Ghost. But just the pottery, not the sexytimes that immediately follow. Unless they really want to, I’m not here to judge. What happens at hens night is between the hens, it’s not for the cock to know about.”

You put a hand to your forehead and, even though you knew that to laugh would encourage him, giggled to yourself. “Alright, this is where we part ways Damiano.” You turned around and began to walk out of the aisle. 

But he jogged to catch up to you, easily able to fall into step alongside you. “Wait, wait, avida- you haven’t heard the best part.”

He put his arm around your shoulders and you looked up at him, slightly fearful of what he had been saving for the big finish. “Uh-huh…”

“Your sister makes a bowl moulded from her boob…”

You jumped forward a few paces, getting away from him. “Dami, this is definitely not the best part.” You turned to face him, still taken in by his infectious grin. “You should’ve quit while you were ahead.”

“‘Cause then her girlfriend can eat her cereal out of the boob bowl every morning.” He said, causing you to make a loud dry-retching sound. “Talk about starting off your day the right way.”

You grabbed at whatever was closest to your hand, which turned out to be a pair of pink, fuzzy handcuffs. You chucked these at his head. “Stop, this is the worst part of the plan.” Next, you snatched up a headband decorated with cat ears, tossing them at him. “Actually, it’s the worst part of any plan that has ever existed in the entire world. And no, I’m not over-exaggerating.”

“Oh come on, boob bowl - that’s genius and you know it.” He said and you couldn’t keep yourself from laughing, it kept rising up. “Just think about it.”

“I will do no such thing.” You said. “You are the absolute worst. I can’t believe you tricked me into falling in love with you.”

He froze on the spot, eyes growing very wide. You gasped, those pesky giggles were under control now. You put a hand over your mouth and you felt your cheeks growing uncomfortably hot.

It was something you had been aware of for a few weeks now, noticing it once it was already growing, its roots reaching down into your gut. It was too early, four months wasn’t a very long time. The three of you were exclusive, but you didn’t know how serious things looked from their point of view.

All you knew was that you thought of both of them constantly - you saw a sunset and wanted to be sitting in Damiano’s arms, sharing the moment with him. You saw anything decorated with a rainbow and wanted Ethan to see it at once, wanting to know what he thought of it. Songs would come on the radio while you were working and you would start smiling widely, your mind flooded with thoughts of only them. There were new words in your vernacular, picked up from the two men.

Right from the start - it had been so wonderful and it never got any less powerful. But you had been biting your tongue, keeping this to yourself because you were certain it would shift the dynamic. You had been fighting against change.

But you had slipped and he had heard, now he knew that your feelings had changed.

“I… um…” You cleared your throat, looking all around yourself for any kind of distraction. “Oh hey, glow in the dark condoms. We should stock up on these, eh?”

He had quietly come over to your side, speaking softly in a way that terrified you. “You love me?”

You scoffed, tossing a bunch of the condom packets into your basket. “Shut up, whatever.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him - you were anticipating pity on his face as he attempted to soften the blow of this rejection. You started to walk away, too tense to hold still. “You already knew that.”

He was hot on your heels, practically breathing down the back of your neck. “No I didn’t.” The worry was making you sweat and you were desperate for an escape. “You’ve said you love things about me…

“And that you love spending time with me.” The neon-pink sign pointing out the dressing rooms seemed to promise sanctuary. You redirected your path because it was worth a try. “But this- this…”

He was relentless and you increased your pace. “This is the first time you’ve told me that you love me.”

You were close to running, reaching for the privacy curtain of the available stall. “Yeah and look at where I’m fuckin’ doing it.” You launched yourself into the enclosed space, turning to face him as you started to yank the heavy curtain shut. “A sex shop!”

You covered your face with your hands, completely mortified. You didn’t know which phrase would cut you up more - the sociopathic thank you or the patronising I love spending time with you.

You kept your hands over your flushed face, even as you heard him slide the curtain open. “Am I the most romantic girl in the world or what?”

You felt his tender touches, his hands on your hips, then your elbows, before stroking your hair - so soothing, so there for you.

“You are to me…” He said and you were willing to lower your hands a little. “‘Cause I love you too.”

You let your arms fall by your sides, the rush of adrenaline swinging your emotions onto a new plain. You smiled, looking into his warm eyes and seeing that a smile was easing onto his face in return. You put your hands to the front of his shirt.

“You do?”

“Yes, sweet thing.” He was pushing your hair away from your face, eyes taking in all of your features as if he was seeing you for the first time. He placed a short and sweet kiss to your lips, you could feel yourself getting giddy. “I love you.”

You grabbed him and pulled him in for a proper kiss - then another and another. You were wrapping your arms around his neck and his hands went to your back, making you feel so secure.

The two of you were moving slower than usual, the pauses between kisses were filled with looks into each other’s eyes. Every time you saw his smile, you felt your heart fluttering.

Your body was buzzing with tingles and you were seeing clearly - after not noticing that your vision had been compromised. Everything was in focus and bright and so beautiful.

“Scusami, sir.” A stern voice said from the other side of the curtain. “You can’t just follow her in there.”

“We’re fine, thanks.” You shouted.

He turned around, pulling the curtain aside. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m her boyfriend, her boyfriend that she’s in love with.”

You gave his arm a shove. “Damiano, she does not care.”

“Congratulazioni.” She said sarcastically. “It’s one person per stall, store policy, even for our most love-struck customers.”

He cleared his throat. “Of course.”

You laid a hand on his arm, getting his attention before he could leave. “Hey, let me talk to Ethan first, okay?”

“Sure thing.” He gave your butt an encouraging pat. “And don’t worry, he’s gonna say it back.”

“Wha-... he will, but how…” This unexpected statement had thrown you, so much so that your thoughts were as halting and as incomplete as a buffering video. “Why do you think- has he- have the two-... How do you know that?”

He just smiled at you. “He hasn’t said anything to me, but I can tell, because I know that boy. And I’m certain that he’s either already there or he’s on the verge of getting there. He doesn’t fuck around and waste time with people he doesn’t really like. He only hangs around with people that he cares about, and look at how much time he’s spent with you these past four months. And don’t even get me started on how many times he brings you up per day.”

“He really does that?” 

“Yes, now look alive, ‘cause here he comes.” He said. “Hey kitty girl.”

Ethan furrowed his brow for a moment. But then he raised a hand, touching his fingers to the cat ears currently on top of his head. “Right meow, meow. I found them on the ground when I was looking for you and I thought there might be a cunnilingus joke in there, ‘cause lesbians… But that’s a bit too obvious.” He plucked the headband off of his head and reached it out toward Damiano. “She wouldn’t give me a deal on the candles.”

“Oh no.” You said as Damiano added the accessory to his own head. “Why not?”

“She wouldn’t really give me a reason. She just kept trying to redirect me to a bundle deal of orgasm balms, but I figured that wasn’t the kind of path we wanted to go down.”

“Or-gas…” You trailed off, looking at Damiano, who only shrugged. “What’s an orgasm balm?”

“It stimulates blood flow to the clit, obviously boosting sensitivities and it’s supposed to make the orgasm even more mind-blowing.” Ethan said. “But, is something that explicitly sexual really what you wanna give to your sister?”

You didn’t care what this product looked like, all you cared about was that you had just secured a reason to get him alone. “I dunno, it might be worth checking out. We could even find something along the way.”

“Alright, she said they were near the candles.” He pointed over to the other side of the store before offering his arm to you. “Shall we?”

You smiled, the warm and fuzzy sensation in your stomach was making you feel a little bashful. You linked your arm with his and kissed him on the cheek. “Let’s.”

“I’ll catch up with you guys.” Damiano said and winked at you, he was on your wavelength at once. “I just wanna grab a pack or two of glow in the dark rubbers.”

Ethan furrowed his brow. “Ew, why? You never fuck in the dark.”

Damiano was already backing away. “Right, but I thought they could be fun for a change. And isn’t everything sexier when it’s glowing in the dark?”

“I can think of so many things that go against that statement, I’ve already got forty in mind.”

“Yeah, but he’ll learn so much better if it’s through mistakes.” You said.

Ethan started to walk with you, across the aisles. “I’m sorry this isn’t going as smoothly as you wanted, as any of us wanted. I know how much your sister means to you and I’m, like, disappointed on your behalf.”

“No, don’t be. It’s a silver lining kind of situation. Sure, shopping for this party isn’t exactly straight forward, but you’re here and I’m having fun. I’m just really happy that you’re here.”

“It is fun, right? Like this kind of place is exactly as tacky as I imagined and they are definitely over-charging for some of this flimsy shit, like this is a fashion accessory, not an actual serious BDSM harness. But it’s cute, whatever, I’m still gonna buy it.” He said. “And it’s not like we’ve accomplished nothing- now you know what you don’t want, we’ve just gotta cast the net wider, right? How’s that for a silver lining?”

“It’s pretty good and you didn’t even have to rely on bringing up your lollipop.” You stopped walking, giving up the charade of caring about shopping. He turned to look at you quizzically and you grabbed both of his hands with yours. “I’m really happy that you’re here and that we get to do dumb shit like this, ‘cause I’m really happy to be your girlfriend. And Ethan, I…” You paused, looking down as you attempted to find the courage to rip this band aid off. This build-up made it feel more difficult, giving you those hints of anxiety. Despite what Damiano had said, you knew that nothing in life was ever guaranteed.

When you looked up again and saw his face (those soulful eyes considering you with some concern), you felt everything become easier.

“Ethan, I love you.” You said and he gave your hands a squeeze. “I’m just, like, so in love with you…”

He was smiling as he caressed your cheek, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips. “I love you too.”

The relief was immediate and all-consuming. You wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him in for some deeper kisses. His hand in your hair and his tender mouth on yours - it made you feel like you were flying.

Your heart was pounding and this kiss was as exhilarating as the first kiss you had shared with him. The warmth of being wrapped up in him, it reached down deeper than just your skin - now you could feel his affection in your bones, reaching for your soul.

“I love you.” You said, giddy that you could say it for him.

“I love you so much that I’m gonna share my lollipop with you.”

You grinned, soon your cheeks would be hurting from all this smiling. “Now I love you even more.”

He had forgotten about showing the discounted items, instead the two of you stood forehead-to-forehead, lost in this moment of new understanding of one another. His hands played with your hair and you stared into his eyes, feeling so seen, feeling so safe.

Then his brow furrowed and he looked around to where a snap had come from behind him. “What is the matter with you?”

Damiano had snuck up, grinning. “What? I was trying to add to the moment.”

“You know what, gimme that.” Ethan said, snatching the riding crop away from Damiano.

“What? Did I hurt you?”

Ethan blinked slowly at him for a second or two, clearly at a loss for words. Then he looked to you, holding the feathered crop up for your consideration.

“You must be joking, you must be, because there is no chance that this toy could hurt me or anyone for that matter. Stick your hand out, I’ll show you.”

Damiano paused. “You’re just gonna hit me with this flogger, in public, like, for real?”

“You hit him with it first.” You said, amused by this hesitation in him, so different to the usual bravado he went into every situation with.

“Yeah Daddy, don’t start things you can’t finish.” Ethan said with a smirk. “Besides, don’t be scared, this isn’t a flogger.” He spun the thin plastic stick around in his hand. “It isn’t even a whip. This is a pinkified fly swatter and you’re not afraid of a little baby fly swatter, are you?”

This was all it took to secure Damiano’s participation. He started to roll the cuff of his shirt away from his wrist, he had puffed his chest out a little. “I’m not afraid.”

Ethan caught your eye, still smirking as Damiano stuck his arm out. He had curled the hand into a fist as he held the arm straightened out in front of him.

Ethan placed one hand gently over Damiano’s, while the arm holding the flogger was pulled back and over his shoulder. Heat coursed through your veins as you admired the flexed muscles in his arm. You thought about offering to trade places with Damiano, so that you could be the one to experience Ethan’s power. You wanted to be reduced down to a rag doll, at the weakened mercy of his strength. He could certainly make you forget about your current public setting.

You licked your lips and watched him bring the riding crop down. It made a whoosh through the air as he wielded it with a look of cold concentration on his face.

The feather-decorated pad collided with Damiano’s bare wrist with a loud snap, the shock vibrating down to where Ethan held the handle. You saw a pink mark left on Damiano’s skin.

“Did that hurt?”You asked.

“It didn’t not hurt, more of a sting, really.” He said as Ethan bent down to pick the crop up from the ground. “He could definitely hurt me more with the back of a hairbrush, or just his hand.”

“Well…” He said, handing the feathered end to you, which you grabbed, only to find the toy was much shorter than you had realised. “I think that’s my point made.”

You looked over to where he was still holding a near-identical black stick by its handle - this one looked shorter than before and it was missing its pink feathers. Then the realisation hit you and you started to laugh. “Bloody Hell Ethan, now they’re gonna make us buy it.”

He shrugged, twirling his half of the broken crop across his fingers, as you had seen him do countless times with his drumsticks. “Whatever, now it’s the perfect gift for your cats.” He said, turning to Damiano. “It can serve a purpose better suited to it now, and look, there’s even two.” Ethan passed Damiano one half. “This is Merry’s and that one can be for Pippin. Take these with ya the next time you go visit your parents.”

“I can’t believe you broke it.” Damiano said.

“Yeah, I was gonna ask you to test every single crop in here on me. And I’m kinda glad I didn't say that, ‘cause then we’d be walking out of here with a much longer receipt.” You said.

“I’m sure that not everything they sell is complete garbage like this. Otherwise, how would they still be open and making a profit, right? But if I was gonna spank you baby, it’d be with a proper paddle.” Ethan said and you listened carefully to each word, curling a strand of hair around your finger. “I wouldn’t wanna waste the time, money and arousal of someone that I love, with some mass-produced piece of shit.”

Damiano leant in, a wide grin on his face. “He said it back?”

You nodded. “He said it back.”

“Oh, so you said it to him first?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah, it kinda just slipped out. And then he chased me and followed me into a dressing room. And we almost got kicked out.”

“And now I’ve broken some of their merchandise…” Ethan said, then sighed. “Was Thomas right about us, when he said that the three of us together are a menace to society?”

--- --- ---

 "So how do you know about all this stuff?" You asked, taking the grape lollipop out of your mouth for a moment.

Ethan looked up from where he had been assembling his new toy - the spreader bar, which you still didn't have a solid opinion on. "What stuff, baby?"

"This kink stuff- the spreader, knowing just by looking that that flogger was a waste of time. You were just so sure of yourself, but I was completely lost in that store."

"So was I." He shrugged. "That's why I only got this, and that." He pointed to the dick-shaped candy, then paused. "Also, a pack of gummy boobs."

"You got the gummy boobs?"

"Yeah, some that we could have- we've gotta make sure they're good enough for the party."

"Of course."

"And none right now, 'cause he'd literally kill us if we ruined our appetites on lollies while he's in there 'slaving away' over a hot stove."

You snickered. "He'd go full passive-aggressive but mostly just aggressive madre at us."

"You're damn right he would."

You had arrived back to Ethan's modest apartment about an hour ago, you and he seated on the couch, you were supposed to be unwinding, cooling down for the night. Damiano was making pizzas and there was a new update to one of their favourite video games that they wanted to explore. It was supposed to be a relaxed night, just hanging out, maybe falling asleep on the couch.

But there was far too much rushing through your head, settling down felt beyond your capabilities. Too much had happened, too much information and it filled you with keen butterflies.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Ethan looked at you, eyebrows raised and almost looking innocent. “Oh, I didn’t?”

“That’s right, you didn’t. So, please enlighten me.”

“About a year ago, I went out for a while with this chick who worked as a dominatrix and I guess she taught me a bunch of stuff. It was barely a relationship- she assumed that ‘cause I wasn’t straight, I wouldn’t be interested in monogamy. She was wrong and it got really frustrating when she kept trying to bring other people home with us. It was over in, like, two months. But what an educational two months it was and now I know all about stuff like shibari.”

You furrowed your brow at him. “Sheep- who?”

He snatched the lollipop out of your hands. “Shibari.” He said it slower this time, but you didn’t feel any closer to understanding. “It’s this ancient style of rope bondage from Japan and it’s really artful and beautiful. And what I like best- it takes effort and time. It’s not like this…” He gestured with the hollow metal bar. “Or a pair of cuffs, where you just click it into place and you’re immediately ready to rock ‘n’ roll. There’s something so sensual, so extra personal about making something with just your hands and some rope. And you can make the coolest, most intense things.”

“Like what?” You asked quietly as you watched him suck on the candy.

“Do you want me to show you?”

“Yes please.”

He smiled, standing up and projecting his voice towards the kitchen. “We’re gonna hang out in the bedroom ‘til dinner is ready.”

“Okay.” Damiano called back. 

You got to your feet, immediately taking the hand that Ethan offered you. The next thing that he offered you was the lollipop. Instead of taking it by the stick, you opened your mouth and allowed him to place it between your lips. You extended your neck, bringing more of the candy into your mouth, while keeping your eyes on him the whole time.

“Okay, I’m getting the sense that you might need to be tied up”

You fluttered your lashes at him as you slowly pulled the candy out of your mouth. “I’m sure that I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mm, I bet.” He said with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. “Come here.” He swept an arm under your legs, effortlessly lifting you from the ground.

You grinned as you admired how secure you felt straight away. You didn’t need to steady yourself with your arms around his shoulders, but you took the opportunity to hold yourself a little closer to his body. You felt heat coming into your cheeks and you hoped that this hallway would never end, so he would never put you down.

When you did reach the bedroom, he placed you down onto the perfectly made bed. Then he ducked down, disappearing from your line of sight as he inspected the area beneath the bed. You glanced at the bedside table, which only held two things - a tall candle in the colours of the pride flag and a framed copy of the series of photos the three of you had crammed into a photobooth to get.

“Okay, I’ve got a few colours to choose from.” His hand dumped three bundles of rope onto the bed. That seemed like enough to you, you heard him continue to root around in this hidden space. “What’s your favourite colour? I’ll see if I’ve got some in that colour for you…”

You picked up one of the wrapped-up lengths of rope that was already on the bed. “Purple.”

“Mine too.” He said, reappearing and offering you another bundle. “That and red- do you know why?”

“‘Cause it’s the colour of blood and this is the part where you tell me that you’re a vampire?”

“No- Damiano’s the biter, not me. It’s ‘cause red is the colour you were wearing when we first met.”

You felt your insides melt. “Aw, that’s so sweet. You get up here and kiss me right now, I can hardly stand it.”

He straightened up, moving to where you could put your arms around him, bringing him in for a kiss. You put your hand to the back of his head, your fingers winding themselves in his silky hair.

But you didn’t get to kiss him for long. He pulled away before you could properly taste his lips or begin to take his breath away. “May I have your hands?”

You unhappily removed your arms from around him, presenting your hands into the air between you. He directed your wrists closer, but not touching. He had unwound the length of black rope, pausing and lying it across your lap, briefly distracted by his hair. He gathered it into his hands, utilising an elastic tie to secure the hair into a messy bun at the top of his head.

“So, when people hear the word bondage, this is probably the thing they think of.”

He had doubled the rope, holding it taut beneath your wrists. He lined the centre of the rope up and folded the working ends over the tops of your wrists. He wound it around before adding the other side.

“And that’s fine, there’s nothing wrong with some wrist binding.”

You couldn’t decide where to settle your focus - you wanted to watch all of him at once. You wanted to watch the concentration play out across his perpetually-serious face, you wanted to see him jam his tongue into the corner of his lips, you didn’t want to miss seeing the creases develop in his forehead. But you were also curious to see his process, to watch his careful hands take away your power with a series of practiced movements.

Once your wrists were wound up, he started to secure the rope around itself. He created one secure knot, then a second, pulling it tight without forcing your wrists together.

“But the thing that I really like about shibari- is that it can be used pretty much on anything. May I have your ankles?”

“Um, yeah.” You shifted your body weight awkwardly, attempting to bring your knees up. You could feel your balance slipping and you were beginning to tip over.

He grabbed your upper-arms, pulling you out of the momentum that would have sent you back on the bed. “Whoa, you’re alright. I’ve got you.”

You exhaled heavily as your eyes met. “Yes, you sure do.”

A smile tugged at his cheek, but he remained focused on his task. “Scoot back, give yourself some more space for your ass. Yep, and then put your feet up here on the edge. Better, right? Do you feel steadier?”

“Uh-huh.” You tucked your tied hands into your lap, leaning forward to look over your elevated knees - watching as he brought a new length of black rope to your ankles.

“With shibari, unlike with your standard sex toys or bondage gear- it can be used for anything. There are literally no limitations.” His hands worked quicker as he mimicked the way he had bound your wrists. “All that you need is rope and imagination. I just think that’s so sexy, don’t you?”

You had stopped watching the rope, instead getting stuck staring at his face. “So sexy.”

“Oh, and trust. You need so much trust, otherwise the whole thing just shouldn’t happen. You have to trust me that I’ll listen and I have to trust that you’ll tell me if something is too tight or just doesn’t feel right.” He fastened the first knot between your ankles. “So, not to sound too much like Aladdin right now, but…” You were giggling when he looked up at you. “Do you trust me?”

You nodded. “One hundred percent.”

He smiled, going back to fixing the second knot. “You know, I think Aladdin was my first boy-crush. It makes so little sense, he’s a damn cartoon and he doesn’t even have any fuckin’ nipples, but he didn’t need them. And I thought he was so dreamy…”

“No, no, no, I get it. My first girl-crush was Ariel, the little mermaid herself. At the time, everyone around me just thought I was really into mermaids and I was. But it was more that internal struggle of- do I wanna be with her or do I want to be her?”

“The constant confusion that makes up the queer experience.”

“Come and get it.” Damiano shouted.

“Well, you heard him- dinner’s a-waitin’.”

You scoffed. “Sure, I’ll just shuffle out there, no dramas and I definitely won’t fall over.”

“I think maybe you could. I’ve seen some of those legit stilts you keep in your wardrobe and call shoes.”

You watched him stand up, your eyebrows raised. “Seriously?”

“I think you could get further than you’re thinking.” He offered his hands to you. “With some help from me and a hop and some optimism- I don’t see any reason why you couldn’t make it back to the other room.”

Damiano sounded impatient. “Hello?”

“You should probably just bring the pizza in here, Daddy. She’s a little immobilised right now.”

His eyes lit up as soon as he entered the room. “Oh, my. What can I do to help?”

“I think we’re good.” Ethan said. “I was just teaching our little avida about shibari.”

You reached out and hooked a finger through one of his belt loops. “Ooh, call me little again…”

“You’re doing sheb-barry, what?” Damiano asked. He sat down on the bed, lying out a plate of pizza.

“See, this is what you always do- you act like I’m some sort of choir boy while you’re this king of kink. And yet, you don’t know what shibari or somnophilia is.”

“I’m sorry, my love.” Damiano said. “I guess I just mistake your quietness for bashfulness. I don’t think of you as a prude or anything.”

“Good, because I’m not.” Ethan said, sitting down alongside you and picking up a slice of pizza.

You were able to use your hands enough to feed yourself, with only minor difficulties. “Shibari, it’s all these hardcore knots he’s tied me up with.”

“Oh, I know how to tie someone up.”

“Really?” Ethan asked, lobbing a bundle of red rope at the other man. “Would you care to demonstrate for us? She’s still got a bit too much mobility in her arms, why don’t you tie something about halfway to her elbows?”

“ButI’m eating pizza.” It was a half-hearted objection because deep down you knew that there wasn’t any chance of you rejecting a request from either boyfriend.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, we’ll feed you.” Ethan said, nudging you forward.

You took the biggest possible bite of food before sliding over to where Damiano sat. You attempted to talk, even as you chewed. “It’s good pizza.”

“Yep, I can see that. And I do mean that quite literally.” He said with a playful smile.

You extended your arms out to him and he placed the unravelled rope beneath your forearms. He started to wrap one end of the rope under the other.

You watched his progress, at first you were reminded of how you would fix the laces of your shoes. Your arms were brought together as he created a loop, through which he fed one working end, then the other.

After about six steps, he was pulling the ropes taut. He looked over his progress and nodded, satisfied with his work even though it looked nothing like Ethan’s binds.

“What do you call this kind of knot?” Ethan asked.

Damiano scratched his head. “Um, I think it’s, like, a square knot.”

Ethan scoffed. “Yeah, of course that’s the type of knot that you would tie, you fuckin’ square.”

“I think it’s pretty secure.” You said.

“Do you want me to take them off so you can eat?” He offered.

“No, that’s okay. I kinda like it.”

He grabbed your wrist binding and gave it a tug, prompting you to half-turn toward him. “Oh, is that so? Kinky little avida likes bondage, hm?”

“Yeah, maybe I do.” You said. “What I’ve tasted so far, at least.”

“We could do some more…” He said, looking from you to Damiano. “And I could teach Daddy a few tricks.”

“I could try to be a good student for you, my love.”

“I’ve got something in mind, something more decorative than restrictive.” Ethan said. “I won’t add anything more to your arms, so you can keep eating pizza.”

“Awesome.” It took more effort now that your forearms were pinned together - but you secured another slice all the same.

He interrupted you before you could take a single bite. “But you’ll have to take your clothes off first… so that we can do the tying.”

You scoffed. “Right, that’s why. How long have you been waiting to say that?”

He grabbed the pizza and shoved it at your mouth. “Shut up and eat your pizza. I’m gonna untie you for a sec’.”

Damiano’s square knot came loose very easily, with Ethan’s requiring extra time to undo. You removed your shirt and bra while he worked apart your ankle binding.

“I’m not gonna be the only one getting naked here.” You said as you undid the fly of your pants.

“Certainly not.” Damiano said, quickly removing his shirt.

“Oh, you’re not gonna be naked, we’re gonna make you a rope dress.”

“And I’m sure it’s gonna be very modest.” Damiano said to you with a wink.

Ethan had folded the black rope, placing the centre of its length across the back of your neck. You could feel him tying a careful knot there, Damiano watching silently as he ate some of the pizza. Allowed full mobility of your arms, you helped yourself to another slice.

Ethan draped a working end of the rope over each of your shoulders, placing the two pieces together at your clavicle. “Really simple start here, we’re gonna go down her front with a bunch of overhand knots.” He created a loop, feeding the ends through this and pulling it secure. He looked up to make sure Damiano was watching. “Do you wanna tie the next one? It should be about three inches down from this.”

“Oh, that’s so easy.” Damiano said, moving forward and picking the loose strands up from your chest. He quickly created a knot the same as Ethan’s. “Like that?”

“Yeah, but do three more- same distance apart and all.”

You turned your body to Damiano’s, giving him more space to work as he created knots lower, and lower again. He was silent, seemingly out of any clever quips while he was trying to impress Ethan.

Damiano’s current demeanour was so uncharacteristically serious that it was shifting the atmosphere in the room. Nothing had to be said, but you could feel the stakes being raised - his lustful intentions became a palpable presence, evident in his movements. You could feel a burn coming to your cheeks and it now seemed very important, very impossible to overlook, that you were naked.

The fourth knot sat just beneath your belly button and he paused after measuring out the spot for the next knot. His eyes met yours and the two of you shared a silent acknowledgement - this knot would sit directly upon your bare pussy. You weren’t sure how that kind of stimulation would feel, weren’t sure how to ask him to keep going.

But Ethan knew what he wanted, spurring Damiano on as soon as their eyes met. “Go on, the next knot is the best one. It’s literally called the happy knot.”

A strangled giggle came from you as Damiano created another loop. “More like the horny knot.”

“Splendido.” Ethan said before giving your hip a gentle tap. “Can I get you to sit up on your knees for a sec’?”

You lifted yourself up as he resumed control over the tail of the ropes. He pulled the length taut and you bit your bottom lip when he secured the knot in between your flaps, bringing it to rest against your wet entrance.

He pulled it back, sliding it between your ass cheeks - thicker, and less easy to ignore, than any g-string you had worn before. Your breath became shallow and it was taking your brain a moment to register a reaction to this brand new sensation.

As you grew wetter, he brought the tail of the rope up your back. And now it was firmly holding itself to the contours of your body - with him fastening the working ends to the knot between your shoulder blades.

“Is that okay, baby?” He asked, checking he could still slide a finger beneath the rope, ensuring no damage was being done to your skin.

“Mm-hmm, it’s great.” You said, smiling weakly.

“This should be quicker with two of us.” He said. “You can sit back down, but I need you to face him.”

You did as you were instructed, seeing how eagerly Damiano was watching once you had turned to him.  Between both of them, you felt your anticipation growing. Their eyes on you were as tangible as the brushes of their fingers against your skin.

You could feel your arousal swelling, like a balloon in your stomach. You didn’t know how far from the end this thorough process was, but you were ready, as prepared for the next step as physically possible. Your body was safe in their hands with each of them concentrating so carefully on just you as if you were the only girl in the world.

But, even as your heart raced, you weren’t intimidated or feeling nervous over such unflinching attention. Instead of being bashful, you were invigorated - every pounding of your heart reminding you that you loved them and each of them loved you in return.

They passed the working ends to one another, wrapping even more of the rope around you. Damiano was transforming the knotted rope that ran down your front into a series of diamond-like shapes. He separated the two strands, running the left tail under the left side before handing it back to Ethan, then doing the same on the right-hand side. Ethan crossed the ropes over at your back, a quick knot securing it to the throughline there. Then the working ends were given back to Damiano for him to make another diamond.

“Is this gonna leave marks?” He asked.

“It depends on how long she wears it.” Ethan said before addressing you. “Do you want some marks?”

You smiled, feeling a fire of passion in your abdomen. “Yes please.”

Damiano was grinning as he threaded the working ends through, to create a third diamond. This eliminated most of the slack left in the section of rope that was wrapped around your cunt. You had to shut your eyes, needing more than a second to compose yourself. You could feel a tremor in your thigh as Ethan tied another knot.

“And that’s it.” He declared. “Well, the streamlined version, at least. There’s always more that could be added, including greater restrictions. But this worked out kinda perfectly for how much rope we had. And I figure that you already look absolutely delectable, avida. How does it feel?”

“Modest.” You said, prompting laughter from Damiano. “No, it’s good, it’s less uncomfortable than a corset, but it feels way sexier.”

“Way sexier.” He echoed, his fingers running along your skin, following the lines of your binds. “How come you’ve never shared this kinky talent with me before, my love?”

You heard a weird wet sound from behind you and you looked over your shoulder, discovering that Ethan was sucking on the lollipop again. He withdrew it from his mouth, a serious look on his face as he answered. “You never asked. You were always too damn impatient for us to have any kind of discussion in the leadup and then you fall asleep immediately afterwards, every single time. The most that we’ve ever established is coming up with our safe word.”

“You two have a safe word? Why did I not know about this?” You asked.

“I guess it never came up.” Damiano said. “It’s bro.”

“Well, that’s, like, stage one - like the warning light to get off that path. When it’s time to stop altogether, that’s when we say bromance.”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head. “That’s terrible. That’s gotta be the least sexy thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Right, that’s why it’s the perfect safe word.” Damiano said. “Nothing makes me wanna suck dick less than someone calling me bro.”

“Yep, I can see that.” You said before being distracted by Ethan offering the lollipop to you. “Thanks baby.”

He kissed you on the cheek, then grabbed Damiano’s hand. “Is it your turn to be tied up?”

“Hell yes.” He said, instantly sitting forward. “My turn to be the centre of attention. But do I get a say? ‘Cause I don’t want you to tie my hands. I’d hate to deprive the two of you like that…”

Ethan got Damiano to remove the rest of his clothing, lying down at the pillows. Beyond choosing a colour (red), Ethan told you that you could relax - he could handle this ropework on his own. You laid down alongside Damiano, sharing the lollipop with him.

“Bend your knees up for me.” Ethan said. “Yep, just like that, that’s perfect.”

Damiano groaned. “God, I love it when you praise me.”

“There’s a kink for that.”

“Am I the president of it?” He asked.

“You’d probably have to earn a title like that.” You observed.

“I’m not afraid of hard work.” He said, smiling as he offered the lollipop to you.

Instead of sucking on the phallic candy again, you moved forward to capture his lips in a kiss - the artificial grape flavouring was no longer enough for you. His lips were sickly sweet, immediately parting for you as he put his hand to the back of your head. You caressed his neck, the heat of his body so inviting.

You lost all track of time, forgetting to watch Ethan’s progress - instead fixating on Damiano’s lips and tongue. You let your hands explore all over his body, relieved to not have to hold yourself back as had been the case in the adult toy store. Now you could sink deeper-and-deeper into this passion, your hands drawn to those areas you had memorised as favourites.

You were pushing more of your body against his, wanting this to be a collision that neither of you could easily recover from. His moans vibrated into your mouth as his fingers massaged over your scalp, keeping you from breaking this contact.

You reached one of your legs across, beginning to place it between both of his. But before you could properly get into this new position (one that would easily allow you to progress to mounting him), your foot bumped against something dense and unfamiliar with its ribbed sides. Then you felt a swift tap at your ankle as Ethan tried to bat your foot out of his way.

“Give me five more seconds.” He said as you opened your eyes, looking down to his handiwork.

You immediately sat up in the interest of getting a clearer view of what already looked very impressive. You had unknowingly knocked your foot against a thick series of knots that connected one of Damiano’s knees to the other. His knees were trapped at an acute angle by twisted loops of rope.

It was all so intricately weaved, you couldn’t see any weak points that could be exploited for a quick exit. You envisioned that a knife would be necessary to get him out of this.

“Not too tight?” Ethan asked, making the final touches.

Damiano was grinning widely as he looked at Ethan’s creation. “Not at all.”

“What’s this part here?” You asked, reaching out for the rung between Damiano’s legs. “Is this, like, a handlebar?”

“Pretty much.” Ethan said.

“I could get into this shiberry-thing.” Damiano said.

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Shibari.”

You had leant forward, placing your hands to either side of his face and drawing him in until he was finally close enough to kiss. “So, what now? What are you gonna do to us now that you’ve got us all tied up and at your mercy?”

He smiled, moving to whisper into your ear. “I could tell you, but I’m gonna have much more fun surprising you.”

You put your hands to the fly of his jeans, pushing down the zipper. “You can do whatever you want, just get naked.”

“Actually, I don’t need to get naked for what I wanna do.”

Before you had time to ask for clarity, he was grabbing beneath your thighs, lifting and robbing you of your balance, until you landed on the mattress next to Damiano. Your heart had skipped over a few beats and you could feel the muscles in your chest tightening. You let out a little giggle, biting into your bottom lip as you looked down at what your boyfriend was doing.

Ethan was settling himself down between your legs and bringing his face closer to your pussy. His deep brown eyes studied your face as his warm hands moved across your thighs, gently pushing them apart. You felt a shudder run through your body as he watched you, making you feel so small but so safe. The knot over your pussy was getting wetter, just from his penetrative stare.

He pushed the rope off of your clitoral hood, making the necessary space allowing him to place his mouth to the pulsing bundle of nerves. A wave of flames rolled over your body, causing you to fall limp as your heart ached for more. He lapped at the moisture that had already been collecting at your entrance.

He swirled his tongue around your clit and it was the beginning of relief surging through you, all of those desires that had been waiting to be acknowledged, they would finally be enjoyed.

“Oh, fuck.” You moaned, feeling the tension coil up within you, already wrapped so tight, already promising to destroy you.

Your pussy betrayed any kind of composure you may have been portraying to your boyfriends - your walls fluttering and clenching upon his tongue as soon as it began to sink into your heat.

Tenderly, he set about exploring into you, slowly uncovering more of your taste. He savoured every inch of your tight hole, careful movements suggesting that he felt no rush - his focus was on the build-up, as much as it was on the grand finale.

You wanted to follow his lead into this sensual, measured pace. But, his tongue flicking up inside of you brought out an involuntary buck from your hips as you gasped. There was a pressure on your chest as you gasped, your thoughts moving to the orgasm. It would get more difficult to hold still, to simply let him run the show, when you were aware of the pleasure in increasingly more places - your body was awakened by his touch and every bit of you wanted to get in on this action.

Your eyes fluttered open, giving you a chance to reacquaint yourself with your surroundings. You found that Damiano was now sitting up, his eyes greedily taking in the scene that was unfolding before him. He was still sucking on the lollipop, while one of his hands rested on Ethan’s back, his fingers moving in non-uniform patterns. 

You couldn’t contain a whimper when a feeling of suction was quickly followed by an audible gulp as Ethan drank some of your cum down. Damiano put his hand to Ethan’s cheek, tenderly tracing across his skin. Ethan moaned into you (not shying away from the attention that the two of you were placing upon him), his eyes moving to Damiano’s face, before his gaze met your own.

That look made you shiver, made you want to give it all to him. He repositioned, tongue sliding out as he moved up a little. All of your wetness was dragged up to your clit as he allowed his lips to rest there. He was out of breath, but the concentration remained on his face.

He shifted his weight to free one of his arms and you began to sit up, forcing yourself into action. “Wait, wait.” He looked at you, puzzled. “Don’t do that- with your- well, not right now, but…”

“Are you okay? Is the rope hurting, ‘cause I can have you out of that in, like, a minute. Just let me at-...”

You held your hand out, creating a buffer. “No, I’m doing just fine. But I wanted to change up the position a bit.” You grabbed his arm with both hands and tugged him closer. You changed the course of his momentum, pushing him down. Your hands returned to his jeans, this time actively pulling them off of his hips. “I really wanna suck your dick. And that lollipop- that’s a shitty substitute.”

“Smaller, too.” Damiano said.

“Oh my God, so much smaller.” You agreed as you pulled down Ethan’s pink briefs. “That’s even before we all started eating the lollipop.”

You laid down on your side, placing your feet up by the pillows. You scooted closer and grabbed his leg, guiding him to face you.

You looked up at him when you felt his hands in your hair, gently stroking. Silently, he watched as you brought your face in closer to his dick, your eyes landing upon him and you felt the persistent dampness beading at your pussy.

Your lips parted around his tip and you braced yourself with your hand at the back of his knee. You felt the muscles in his leg tense as you drew more of his length into your mouth.

A shock came through your system when he hitched a finger under the slack of your rope-dress, bringing that happy knot into your slit. You retracted slightly, your concentration on him shattered. Your swollen labia puckered on either side of the knot and your hips moved forward, drawing this unique simulation up, over your clitoral hood, to where it could bubble in the depths of your gut.

You let your heart continue its fluttering at the back of your throat, returning the tension to your jaw, ready to create a seal around his dick. You played your tongue at the underside of him, teasing tastes as you pushed your mouth forward again. You swallowed more of him in, letting him massage across your tastebuds.

His tongue soon found its way back to your clit, lightly moving against the tight bundle of nerves. It was heavenly, pleasant sparks flying through your body as your pussy clenched upon the thick knot. He wasn’t looking to set into any kind of rhythm yet (which felt like a move made out of mercy), he was lazily warming you up, testing what he could do around the rope.

You gulped down, bringing him in as far as you could without having him hit the back of your throat straight away. Once your mouth was sufficiently full, you began to suck. You secured your lips around his pulsing shaft, hollowing your cheeks to make the space in your mouth feel tighter.

He plucked the knot out of the way, pushing it aside and quickly filling this space with a finger. He buried his finger in, going instantly up to his second knuckle, your pussy quivering in response. You whined around his cock when he curled his finger, seeking where he hadn’t yet been. Your tongue extended along him, your jaw wanting to fall slack, especially when he added a second finger.

He copied your style and placed his lips around your clitoral hood, treating it with some gentle sucking.

You trembled, feeling yourself weakened by the power of the pleasure he was giving you. Your focus on his cock slipping as you struggled for air, your body rocketing into reckless bucks. You didn’t think you could go along like this for very long - your staying power being viciously challenged with every pump of his fingers.

Your mouth was emptied as your head lolled back. “Baby, fuckin’ Hel- ah!”

For a moment, you lost all control. You reached your hand down, fingers grabbing for his bun. You held tightly to his hair as he determinedly carried on, pulling you down deeper into your arousal. The muscles in your arm were held painfully tense as you were torn between two decisions. You wanted to tell him to stop, to slow down to something more sustainable and sane - something that all three of you could enjoy.

But you also felt hopeless to do anything but drown in his lust, letting him manipulate your body.

“You want to make him come, don’t you baby?”

You opened your eyes, finding Damiano staring directly at you. He had lowered himself down, resting against Ethan’s side. The singer had his arm draped over your boyfriend’s hip, fingers caressing all over Ethan’s skin. Ethan shivered, moaning into your wetness when Damiano delicately traced the length of Ethan’s cock with a few of his fingers.

You nodded jerkily. “Mm-hmm, I wanna taste his orgasm.”

Damiano growled quietly as he wrapped his fingers around Ethan’s cock. “I bet you do.”

As Damiano started to work his hand on Ethan’s cock, you felt yourself hit a peak as his tongue left your body, his chin slumping to tuck down. You were sitting at what could have been a manageable baseline, his fingers slowing inside of you.

“I want it all over my face.” You said, moving your mouth forward, bringing his tip to rest at your bottom lip.

“Yes, you do-” Damiano agreed, increasing his pacing on Ethan. “You want it so bad, you little, naughty, greedy, and filthy, oh-so filthy thing.”

“Yes.” You whispered, sliding your tongue over Ethan’s head, gathering him across your taste buds before securing your lips around the tip - your mouth ready to be filled with so much more. 

“Did you hear that, love?” Damiano asked, his nose pressed to Ethan’s cheek. “She wants you to cover her fuckin’ face. She needs it. You have to give it all to her, give her your cum.”

Ethan could only moan in response, losing himself into the climax. His fingers merely rested within you now - your pussy was clenching sporadically, keeping you feeling wondrous tingles. You didn’t need to fuck yourself against him - in this moment, his pleasure dwarfed your own in terms of importance.

You held yourself steady at his head, following the grinding of his hips as Damiano kept up his merciless rhythm. You could taste more of Ethan and you swallowed it all, sighing dreamily.

“Give it to her, give her all of your cum.” Damiano instructed, his breathing heavy from the exertion of stroking even faster. “Cover her beautiful face.” You skimmed your tongue along Ethan’s underside, feeling how the sensitive shaft pulsed with frantic energy. “She loves it, she needs it.” You swirled your tongue around his spilling shaft - hoping that your energetic efforts were enough to convey that you agreed with all of Damiano’s statements. “She loves you and you need to cover her with your love.”

“Ah…” Ethan cried out, his whole body jittering and he put a hand to the back of your head. “Fuck, oh fuck…” You moved your slicked lips across his tip, swallowing him down only so far as to not interrupt Damiano’s momentum.

You flicked your gaze up to Ethan’s face, finding his eyes were open and fixed on you. His mouth gaped open, an expression of disbelief, as incoherent sounds came from deep in his throat. So much of his hair had come loose from the tie, strands stuck in the sweat gathered on his forehead. He was a desperate mess.

His hand held the back of your head with a fierce strength and determination. This kept you in place, even when he lost all of his restraint and his hips bucked, bringing him deeper into your mouth.

He started to spill himself inside of you like never before, crying out praises, louder than the wet noises of his persistent stroking over your wet lips. You let your jaw fall slack as his aim shifted, until you were feeling his primal heat splashing over your face.

“Yes, yes, oh my God, yes.” Damiano was observing all of this, yet to release Ethan’s cock as he worked this orgasm to an exhausting conclusion. “Look at all of that cum, oh fuck- yes, yes, yes.”

With a low whine, you felt the mattress finally still as Ethan slumped - entirely used. This was when you dared to open your eyes, your tongue darting out in a feeble attempt at cleaning your lips. Looking over Ethan’s breathless form, you found Damiano was sitting up, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

“Come here, avida.” He held his arms out to you. “Let Daddy clean you up.”

You were a little shaky and unsure of your movements as you climbed over Ethan, but Damiano caught you before you could land awkwardly.

“Are you…” He asked.

“I’m great. Sticky, but…” You giggled when his eyes met yours. “What’re- you said you were gonna clean me off… So what's- is your mouth tired after the lollipop or something?”

“No.” He kissed you on your wet lips before kissing off to the left of your mouth, making you laugh again when you felt his tongue across your skin. “You’re just so- I can’t believe you let us do that…”

You furrowed your brow, trying to get comfortable alongside him wasn’t as easy as you usually found it - the bindings on his legs creating an angle that you weren’t used to. “What do you…” You felt his lips moving across the wet patches on your face. “Do you mean my facial?”

“Yeah.” He said, laughing a little as he licked your nose. 

“Really? Why?” You put your arms around his neck, bringing your fingers to the nape of his neck, finding a way to relax. “Because it’s supposed to be, like, some sort of degradation?” He moved to the other half of your face, alternating between his lips and tongue. “Because I don’t see it that way, oh at all. I wouldn’t have asked for something that I didn’t truly want. And you made it sound so romantic and beautiful and I wanted to wear it, I wanted to wear the accomplishment of getting my boyfriend off…”

His arms snaked around your middle and he pulled you closer, some more awkward shuffling as your chest pressed to his, one of your legs going halfway across his lap. His lips were on your chin, thoroughly ridding your skin of Ethan’s essence.

“It looks really good on you.”

You smiled to yourself as he began kissing down your neck. “You just think that I look good ‘cause I’m naked.”

“You’re not naked, you’re practically fully clothed in your rope dress.” He said as his hands found a home at the small of your back. “By the way, how are you liking that dress? How’s that happy knot?”

“It could be happier…” You paused, licking your lips as he looked up at you. “Could you help me with that, Daddy?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He said and straight away brought you into his lap. He sat with his back against the headboard, the forced bend at his knees meaning you were already so close to him - feeling barely any separation between your bodies. Instantly you felt how firm he was, pressed at your crotch, silently begging for access into your wet heat.

“I trust you.”

You didn’t know why, but you had felt compelled to say it. Something had been prompted when you had come to his eye-level and suddenly that was all you could think of. He hadn’t asked, or otherwise hinted at wanting this reassurance - but you felt it too strongly to not share it.

You felt a third hand on your back and you glanced over your shoulder, finding Ethan had recovered somewhat. He had rolled over, watching how the two of you were interacting. You smiled at him. “And I trust you. Besides, that wasn’t my first facial, I knew I wasn’t gonna die or anything. Not my first, but definitely my best.” The smile on Ethan’s face looked bashful and it made you lament that he wasn’t within kissing-distance. “And I knew that you weren’t, like, gonna think any less of me ‘cause I did it.”

“If I may, just for a second, talk on behalf of both myself and Ethan…”

He snorted sarcastically. “If you may? You’re always talking enough on everyone’s behalf. And the other half of ‘em, too.”

Damiano dismissed this interruption with a flick of his wrist. “Hush, rope boy. What I wanted to tell you, sweet thing- is that we definitely do not think any less of you after that. In fact, I think even more of you…”

You smiled - even though there were plenty of things that sprung into your mind, jokes to say, you fought them all back. You didn’t want anything to diminish what he had just said. You let all of his words gather, collecting and spreading a gentle warmth through your heart. You brought him in for a kiss, Ethan’s taste immediately present.

Ethan was now sitting up and you felt his lips ghosting across your shoulder. “I hate to say it and I definitely won’t make a habit out of it- but, he is right.” He pushed his hand into your hair, fingers caressing over your scalp. “You’re so beautiful and so enthusiastic.” The heat of his breath was on your skin as he spoke, it made you clench, it made you grind your hips into Damiano’s. “You are so free and you aren’t ashamed of getting what your body wants.” Suddenly Ethan’s hand was in a fist around your hair and a tug ripped your mouth from Damiano’s. Your throat was pulled taut and you looked up into Ethan’s eyes. “And it’s so unbelievably sexy.”

You released a shaky breath. “I f- uh… oh, fuck…” Your mouth dropped open, without any real warning - Damiano had filled your pussy, his cock surprising you, all of those sensitivities flared up and on high alert. You clenched, gasping as this shock overwhelmed you. “Daddy, fuck…”

“I was watching you before…” He said, lips close to your neck. “And it looked like you didn’t get to come, am I right?”

“Yes, yes you are.”

His teeth grazed over your skin, playful nibbles keeping your heart racing. “But you’re gonna come now, aren’t you?” His tongue swiped over your hardened nipple. “You’re gonna come all over Daddy’s cock, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” You moaned, your cunt clenching as you were hit by these new sensations, which were only accelerated by the near-forgotten aftershocks Ethan’s cunnilingus had given you. “Yes, please.”

He drove up into your dripping cunt, plunging in and making you moan even louder. You swung your hips into motion, the soggy rope shifting over your clit with every stroke.

He held tightly to your shoulders, his hips snapping up into you, his movements marked with whines and moans of effort. You put your hand to the back of his head, determined to keep his mouth set on your nipple, where his tongue was pushing you to the brink of insanity. Your mouth hung open, unable to draw in any substantial breaths. His body rubbed against yours with the most perfect and promising friction.

Ethan’s hands went to your hips and guided you further forward, increasing the collision of you onto Damiano. Ethan set his lips onto your shoulder again. He let you feel these movements more, his lips sinking in and lingering.

He ran one hand up the side of your neck, reaching across your jaw. You heard him draw in a sharp inhale. “You… baby, do you even know how magnificent you are? ‘Cause you are just so incredible.” His lips rested against your cheek and even though his breath was so hot, you still fell victim to a full-body shiver. “You look so…” He purred. “You sound so sexy.”

You turned to face him, reaching back and wrapping your hand around his arm. “You should fuck me then.” His mouth opened, but he didn’t say anything at first and you held his arm tighter. “Show me baby, show me and make me feel how sexy you think I am.”

He didn’t respond with words, instead bringing his mouth to yours with such ferocity that your heart skipped over a few beats. You whined against his lips, feeling your chest tighten.

But he left you far too soon, turning to collect some things from the closeby set of draws. In anticipation, Damiano had paused and you tried to catch your breath.

“And what are you smiling about, dork?” You asked, readjusting your arms around him.

He was beaming, shaking his head a little. “This is so… it’s totally mental, like how is any of this actually happening? How am I just allowed to watch the two most beautiful people in the world have sex right in front of me?”

You put your hand to his cheek, your eyes dropping to take in his lips as you moved in closer. “I’ve been wondering the same thing myself.”

You kissed him, drawing his top lip between both of yours. His hands moved tenderly across your back, gently stroking at what he could get at between the ropes.

You were distracted when you felt Ethan’s hand on your hip, squeezing firmly. Pulling away from Damiano’s mouth, you were instantly greeted by the scent of mint and chocolate - Ethan’s choice in flavoured lubricant. You turned to where you could feel him moving in closer.

“Tell me if it hurts…” He whispered.

You looked at him, nodding. “I will.”

Damiano redirected your attention with a guiding hand under your chin, bringing you back in for more kisses. He moved slowly, not trying to rob you of your breath.

This tenderness was mimicked by how Ethan began to initiate the necessary preparation. The lubricant on his fingers was warm as the tip of one finger tested at the tightness of your asshole.

This new stimulation had you moaning heavily against Damiano’s mouth, your already-sensitive cunt clenching upon his dick. He soothingly stroked your hair, keeping his hips perfectly still so as to not overshadow any of Ethan’s process.

This in-between moment held so much intimacy (and not just due to having Ethan finger your ass), the three of you quietly fixed on the same goal. Damiano heard every time your breath skipped. Ethan felt every slight reaction of your body, letting this explain your current state to him.

It was the most thorough and careful prep - reminding you of how intensive their aftercare was. But you hadn’t arrived at the after stage yet.

Each time you felt more of Ethan, you arched your back further, silently offering him more. His fingers massaged around and inside of you, tips disappearing in, followed by more of the length of his fingers. It made you squirm, it made you clench more upon Damiano.

You were stunned breathless when dick replaced fingers and you were feeling Ethan’s body heat on your back - a prelude to his skin against yours. You couldn’t continue kissing Damiano, instead just letting yourself become overwhelmed by all of this.

A curious observer to everything happening in your body, you let your consciousness spread out, so that you could drink all of these sources of pleasure in. You acknowledged every point of connection between you and each of your boyfriends - wanting to remember each sensation, wanting to remember the synergy that blessed you in this: the first time you fucked after telling them that you were in love with both of them.

You felt something bump at your side, looking down to where Ethan’s knee had hit you as he tried to figure out the best way to position himself. Damiano’s legs were forced to remain bent, eliminating the ease of adding Ethan. You could sit comfortably in Damiano’s lap but the space left between his legs for Ethan was limited. He seemed to be trying to decide if kneeling behind you was feasible, but his balance didn’t appear to be guaranteed.

“This is so many legs.” You said, half-laughing.

“Ugh, we get it already.” Damiano dramatically rolled his eyes. “Ethan is so hung that he has three legs.”

“No, that’s not quite-”

“Lift your legs more.” Ethan told Damiano. “And then spread them as far as you can.” Damiano kept an arm around your waist, holding you steady as he pushed his knees further apart. “Yep, nice and wide, just like that.”

“Comfortable, sweet thing?” He asked as Ethan made his adjustments behind your back.

“More like thrilled.” You said, stroking Damiano’s cheek. “Overjoyed, elated, exhilarated.” You kissed him. “Do you want some more words, or does that just about sum up being in love and being fucked?”

He smiled. “I think that covers it pretty well.”

He brought you in for a deeper kiss and you followed him into this rhythm as you both awaited Ethan. He had found enough room under and between Damiano’s legs, all unnecessary space between the three of you was completely gone. You had both of them as close as you could possibly ever need them.

You turned your face to Ethan, reaching your hand out to rest on his cheek as you kissed him. Your other hand was busied amongst Damiano’s long hair once you had your arm wrapped around his shoulder. His lips moved across your neck, dragging and sucking without any discernible goal beyond tasting your skin.

It was impossible to know who made the first move, who set your bodies into motion, but your hips rocked forward - colliding, then grinding against Damiano’s. You whimpered into Ethan’s mouth as his body remained pressed to yours, moving with you.

You could feel the tension rising within you and you knew that sitting still was no longer an option. You needed the release, your whole body was crying out for it.

You couldn’t feel the rope and how it rubbed at your skin any longer - you were gliding, feeling only the sensations radiating out from deep within you. Your body weightless as it pinballed between the two of them.

Your lips left Ethan’s, your jaw falling slack in your desperate attempt to get some air to your lungs as Damiano kicked things up another notch. His mouth on your nipple had you feeling a greater surge of electricity through your body. You crushed forward into him with more energy as a new, higher peak came into sight - everything mounting just right.

Your breath left you in ragged gasps as he sucked on your nipple. Your gut clenched, your chest fluttered, your mind free of any coherent thoughts as you were being rocketed toward that edge. Ethan guided you forward, lips on your neck and a comforting hand on your hip as he worked through every stretch, every contraction.

It seemed impossible, but somehow it got better. The pleasure was building to another even grander height, orchestrated by Damiano and his deeper plunges into you. It wasn’t enough to simply meet your swings, now he was striving for greater impact. Your swollen pussy picked up each of his strokes, soon allowing him to hit against your core.

Your head felt like it was spinning as you slumped forward, all of your body weight landing upon him, needing him to breathe new strength into you.

There was no escaping it - from all sides, the powerful waves were eroding your composure. You were nothing but a quivering mess, at the mercy of Damiano’s enthusiasm and Ethan’s strength.

You rested your face against Damiano’s skin, grateful when his mouth left your nipple - any extra playing at your sensitivities could instantly lead to your undoing. You felt Ethan move in closer, then heard his lips working into an impassioned rhythm with Damiano’s mouth.

Trapped between their two bodies (getting completely covered in their passion), you had fully relinquished all control. There was no opportunity to catch your breath, not a single second that wasn’t spent driving you harder to the state of orgasm.

For every time that Damiano’s hips snapped into yours, Ethan was ready to catch you with just as much force. You were in constant motion.

Someone (possibly Ethan, but there was no way to distinguish one from the other any longer) grabbed at the bow that had been tied at your back - what was keeping your ‘dress’ in place. The excess at the working ends was being wrapped around your boyfriend’s hand - the rope being pulled tighter.

The constriction around so much of your body had your attention going to your heart and the feral quality of how it raced. You became obsessed with the idea of your release, which you were certain would result in you bursting on every imaginable level.

You were so close to becoming overwhelmed by all of this pressure. But you thought the moment of perfection was about to be within your grasp. 

Daunting as it was - you swung into a quicker tempo, the little space that you did have was used for your frantic bucking. You needed your release, you needed the moment when the fusion between the three of you reached its pinnacle and you broke apart. You needed the break, needed the burst to reclaim yourself.

“Ff-uck.” Damiano gasped, his head slumping back to rest at the headboard. His eyes squeezed shut, the chords on his neck prominent and it was clear that the tension was in control. 

“Daddy…” A moan, a desperate plea as you were jostled by the growing shaking in his legs.

He convulsed into you only a few more times before disappearing into his orgasm. He fell back, thoroughly spent as you kept your own release in your line of sight.

You laid upon him, grinding down and bringing a new pressure to your pelvis. The heat from this area began to radiate out as you continued to spasm excitedly around his shaft. 

Your breath lodged into your throat and still, you felt Ethan pushing you down deeper. With every sensitivity inside of you activated and ready to overwhelm you - you started to scream out, the release finally upon you.

“Yes baby, yes.” Ethan coached, adding even more sparks to the fireworks already flying off within you.

The sheer power of the climax stunned and intimidated you. It wasn’t just your pussy that was beyond the point of regular stimulation, the orgasm was being drawn out from your heart and soul.

You were letting go in a way that was beyond belief, your flutterings turning nervous when you noticed a heavier feeling. You noticed a strange weight dropping from your gut, down into your cunt.

“Wait, wuh- ah. Fuck, oh… I-” Your thighs clenched as dread flew through you - memories of the past three instances of this strange sensation became present at the front of your mind. “Hang on, I- unf… oh, God- I… hang on, hang on, hang on, aah…”

Then it was a sticky, wet, shameful feeling snaking down both of your thighs. Your body went rigid but the urge to run was so compelling - your only option.

“Stop, stop, stop.” Your words were strangled, holding absolutely no authority as you pushed Ethan’s hands off of you.

But he instantly listened, letting go of you and giving you the space to flee. “Are you alright, honey? Is somethin-”

“I’m sorry.” Your legs weren’t steady beneath you, but you didn’t let that keep you from escaping. “I’m really sorry.”

“What’s wrong?” He called out, upon receiving no response he switched to calling your name. You kept on your way to the bathroom, knowing that you couldn’t stop, not while there was absolutely no way to explain yourself.

“What’s happened?” Damiano asked, his groggy voice remaining behind you. “What’d I miss? My eyes were closed. Wait, why am I this wet? This is a lot, right babe?”

They were discovering it, finding out that you were a squirter, something you had never intended to share. It was marking up your legs, the smell practically burning your nostrils. You were bumping into walls before finally arriving into the bathroom and instantly shutting the door behind yourself. You locked it and progressed to the basin, turning on the faucet - all the while keeping your eyes down so as to avoid physically facing yourself in the mirror.

You were too riddled with guilt to consider dirtying one of Ethan’s towels with this. Rather than spreading this shame any further through his clean home, you resolved to using wads of toilet paper to remove the cum from your legs.

You wiped away the sticky liquid, wondering how your boyfriends would look at you after this involuntary ejaculation. It had certainly changed the way Reace looked at you - your ex-boyfriend had complained about the mess for hours. It had been of particular concern to him that any of your moisture would seep through the sheets, to permanently taint his mattress.

You were grabbing for the bar of soap when you heard a gentle knocking on the other side of the door. “Are you okay, baby? Can you let me in- at least so I can get you out of the rope?”

“I ruined it.” You lamented, cheeks full of embarrassed heat as you opened the door only a crack. “I’m sorry, it’s totally gross and ruined now, but I-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Ethan said, coming into the room to stand with you. He hadn’t fixed his thoroughly dishevelled hair, but he had partially dressed himself and there were more items of clothing slung over one shoulder. “It’s definitely not ruined. This rope is kinda designed to get dirty. I know how to wash it, so don’t worry about that, please. Can I take it off of you?”

You responded by turning around, presenting the back of the intricate ropework to him. You wiped at your legs while he worked on the knots. Soapy water was trickling down to your ankles, but you still felt unclean.

“Are you okay?” He asked. “We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t wanna. But I just- I need to know that you’re okay, please.”

You sighed. “I didn’t mean to- I’m so fuckin’ embarrassed.”

“Because of…” He sounded so hesitant - clearly taking his time to select each word carefully. “Because of what happened when you came, and all of-”

“Don’t say squirt, please.” You squeezed your eyes shut. The relief you gained from him removing the rope from over your pussy was fleeting, a superficial feeling.

“Of course.” He said. “But if that’s why you’re embarrassed- you really shouldn’t be. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Are you sure about that? Are you sure it isn’t actually totally and completely gross?”

“Has someone told you that before?” He asked, working on the ties across your front without encroaching too much on your personal space.

You avoided his eye. “Yeah, there was this girl, just, like, a one-night-stand. And it happened during- she literally had two fingers inside of me and a toy on my clit. And she’s all like- come, come, come, so I did and then that extra stuff happened and like…”

“Did you wanna shower?”

“Um, I…”

“I bought you some comfy clothes, in case you wanted to.” He offered an explanation. “They’re mine so they’ll be a bit big, but…” You nodded and he placed the unbuttoned flannelette shirt at your shoulders. “Might help you feel better.” He started to fasten the buttons, covering your torso and the bright pink marks that the rope had left behind. “I’m sorry, you were saying before I so rudely interrupted you- this woman, she got more than she bargained for and she didn’t know how to react?”

“No, she knew how to react- she reacted with disgust. Right away, she started to freak out and got dressed and started to leave, even though that was early in the night. And she was saying that I should’ve included in my HER bio that I was into that kind of fetish, ‘cause she didn’t fuck with that. She said it was this gross thing that proved I wasn’t really gay, ‘cause clearly I’d learnt how to fuck from fetish, exploitative porn made by men for other men.” You stepped into the red trunks as he offered them to you. “She left and blocked me on HER, where we’d been talking for, like, a couple of weeks.”

“Right.” There was a look of thoughtfulness on his face as he folded the waistband down over itself a few times, creating some bunching in the red underwear. “Look, I don’t wanna mansplain the female orgasm here, but��”

“Is everything alright?” Damiano yelled out before Ethan’s point could be made. “I’d love to get up and help, but I’m trapped back here. Incapacitated, useless, tied down…”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re fine. I’ll be with you in a minute.” Ethan called back. He shook his head, lowering his voice to speak only to you. “So dramatic, he’s fine, the circulation to his legs wasn’t compromised. Anyway, we were talking about you- what you just did was totally natural and I’m not judging you for doing it, and I’m also not judging you for the times when it didn’t happen. It’s random but however, whenever it happens- I’m okay with it.”

“But I… there’s all this mess in your bed now…”

He shrugged. “So, what? I don’t care. The only thing I care about is you and that you’re feeling okay and that you know how loved you are.” He caressed your cheek. “And nothing that this gorgeous body might do during sex could change how I feel about you, ever.”

“You’re so sweet, you’re just, like, the best…” You wrapped your arms around his waist as he pecked you on the forehead. “Thank you, Ethan.”

“I just want you to know that you never have to feel ashamed of your body or anything it does, not around me, not around Dami either.”

“We should probably go untie him, huh? Before he starts planning how to 127 Hours himself out of the situation.” You said. “And then, I can strip the sheets off of your bed and wash them for you. And, do you have-”

He tugged on your arm, physically pulling you out of this train of thought. “You’ll do no such thing. The only thing you’re gonna do is sit on the couch, eat some gummy boobs and there’s a friend of mine I want you to message. About the hens party, I thought of an activity.”

“You thought of it, when? While we were fucking?”

“No, before all of that. But I guess I forgot to say it out loud. This drag queen I know, Sno- she hosts this weekly dinner, drinks and games set up where the whole bar plays Cards Against Humanity.” He said, accompanying you out of the bathroom. “I thought that could be fun and still very much an adult thing, without being graphically sexual.”

“Yeah- that might be legitimately perfect. Nadia loves Cards Against Humanity.”

“Of course she does.” He said. “Message Sno- Sno Secret, and she can let you know how far in advance you’ll need to book for a group that size.”

You smiled, your heart feeling light again. You turned to him, arms going to his shoulders as you kissed him. “I love you.”

“I love you. I’m so happy we’re saying that now. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing it or saying it.”

Sno Secret (whose Instagram feed promised high-energy performances wrapped in colourful wigs and outfits) was available to talk to; she was very friendly after you had introduced yourself as Ethan’s girlfriend. She had all of the necessary information ready to share. By the time Damiano arrived in the lounge room, you were excitedly sharing this planning with the maid of honour.

He instantly slid into the space next to you, kissing you on the cheek before resting his head on your chest. “Everything alright, baby?”

You locked your phone, putting an arm around him. “Yeah, I just… I wasn’t expecting that, I guess that I wasn’t anticipating getting fucked that hard.”

“Yeah, baby.” He said, laughing.

“But maybe I should… I gotta get used to having loving, supportive and accepting boyfriends, eh?”

“You’re damn right you do.” He lifted his head from your breast, showing you a smile before he kissed you.

--- --- ---

"So you defected?"

You looked back to your own table - you had been waving to Nadia, who had ended up two tables away from you. You were seated with a handful of your sister's friends who you had never met before and you were very aware of the fact that you were the only one wearing a dress. All these women had known each other for years and so could easily fall into conversations, leaving you mostly silent during these rounds of Cards Against Humanity. But now one of them was talking to you - Carissa, if you remembered correctly.

"Pardon me?" You asked, smiling politely.

"Well, I coulda sworn that Nadia said you were queer and seeing girls and everything, a few months ago. But before, I heard you saying something about boyfriends, hm?"

Noemi, the woman beside her, looked at you with raised eyebrows. "Wait, did you say boyfriends- as in, more than one?"

"That's what I heard, but I guess I could be wrong…"

You swallowed, noticing how everyone at the table was now looking directly at you. "No, no, you heard correctly. I am currently seeing two guys."

"Two?" Noemi repeated and the others were sharing murmurs of amazement.

"So you didn't just defect, you're really trying to wipe out any hints of being a lesbian, huh?" Kara asked.

"No, well, I mean… it's not like that, I kinda just met them and things-"

"Do they know about each other?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I met them on the same night, so it's always been all three-"

Noemi raised her hands before speaking over you. "Wait, wait, wait, are you saying that you are having sex with two guys at once? That's so mental." She laughed then quickly stopped. "Sorry, I just- two men? I can't imagine anything worse…"

"I would literally rather die." Carissa said.

"Are you a nympho or something?" Kara asked.

You felt like your head was spinning and all of the fries you had eaten before had clumped together in your stomach, a heavy sludge. For a second, your vision was blurry, until you blinked. Tears, you curled your hands into fists under the table, you could not start crying now - not here in front of these strangers and their critical eyes.

"I don't see myself as a nympho, I see myself as a lucky girl who gets to be loved by two wonderful people and they're so supportive, I mean, they helped me throw this whole thing together. They're great guys…"

Noemi made a face, implying her skepticism was still holding firm. "You say that now, but when they, and you, figure out that they're actually just gay…" She shrugged. "We'll see, sweetie. But you're young, we all need heartbreak to teach us how to grow."

"Well they are gay. And so am I. I met them at a gay bar." You said, your voice getting louder and you had started to grip your phone.

Carissa was watching you carefully as she swirled her straw around in her drink. "And you identify as…?"

"Pan or bi, I guess, I hadn't-"

You were drowned out by condescending laughter, the women sharing knowing looks. You clenched your jaw and looked down at your phone, activating the screen to check for some notifications that could give you an excuse to stop interacting with them. There weren't any - instead you were looking at your unobscured lockscreen, a photo taken by Damiano of Ethan, fallen asleep, sitting up at his dining table.

Your heart hurt and now it felt like your stomach was dropping, heavy enough to fall out of your ass. You wanted to hear their voices, you wanted their strength.

You unlocked your phone, opening up the gay baes chat window and started to type a message. You heard Kara's voice and it was clear she was talking to you, you raised your head slightly.

"Sorry, I just- ugh, I've dated bi-girls before and- they are record-breakers for how quickly they cheat…" She barely choked back a laugh. "I guess that wouldn't be a problem for you though, right? No, really, why would you need to go fuck someone else, you have two cocks at all times, right?"

"Hey, hey, go easy on her…" Noemi said.

You sent a series of frowning emojis, need to talk, can I call?

"I used to say I was bisexual." She said. "But then I actually tried to have sex with a man and it scared me not straight."

Ethan's response came through first, call. 

"So I guess the opposite is true of you then, hm?" Carissa asked. "I'm just trying to understand, you see."

What's up babygirl?

"Uh, I'm really sorry, I have to call my roommate." You started to get up from your seat. "They're blowing my phone up with messages, so…"

The lights dimmed and the music radically changed, alerting the bar that the second round of Cards Against Humanity was beginning. But you didn't care. You were rushing for the door, heading for the smokers area as your hand shook to handle your phone.

"What's goin' on?" Ethan asked.

You could feel the shake in your voice before you started talking and you didn't know if it was possible to phrase this in a way that didn't sound pathetic. "I need to… I can't stay… muh- my sister's friends are all being so mean to me…"

"What?" Damiano half-shouted.

"Well, not all of them. But I…" You tried to inhale a calming breath, but the tears were threatening more than before. "I can't go back in there, I can't. They're judging me, so hardcore and I just feel… they're acting like I'm an exhibit in a zoo or something."

"What are they saying?" Damiano asked.

"They're…" The tears burst out noisily. "They're being homophobic."

"What?" Ethan's voice was so loud.

"But they're at a hens party for a lesbian. That's a bit counterproductive…" Damiano said. "Like, read the room."

"What are they saying to you?"

"It's…" You started to sob. "I can't- can you… could you-"

"What's going on, are you crying?"

"I haven't been to that bar in ages, who do you think is closer, Dam- me or you?"

"Uh, I reckon I am." Damiano said. "I can get an Uber."

"Thank you." You whimpered. "I just- I can't drive like this."

"No, no, it's fine. We'll drive you home." Ethan said. "I'm gonna get an Uber too. Just hold tight. Everything's gonna be fine, okay?"

You exhaled shakily. "Okay."

"Do you have your vape?"

Your fingers were shaking as you tried to work the zipper of your handbag. "Y-yeah, in my bag."

"Great. Take some hits from that, get your breathing under control and we'll be there before you know it." Ethan's voice was perfectly calm, soothing you without actually gracing you with his presence.

As opposed to Damiano, he sounded out of breath and befuddled when he spoke next. "Where the fuck are my pants?"

---

You continued to hide outside, missing out on the rest of the party game as the tears on your cheeks dried. You blew out consistent columns of smoke, relieved to be left on your own until Damiano arrived. He made a quick approach to where you sat in the designated smokers area.

He held you close, listening to every word as you recounted all of the unpleasant encounters from the night. He didn’t interrupt you, silently listening, even though you could tell that he was desperate to start ranting.

By the way that his nostrils kept flaring - you were certain that his mind was overflowing with expletives. But he let you explain everything as clearly as possible. He let you talk until there were no words left, until he knew every shitty aspect of your night.

Then he let you rest your head on his shoulder, stroking your back and saying all the right things. Most importantly, he didn’t insist on you going back into the bar to face all of this.

This was backed up by Ethan when his Uber pulled into the parking lot - it went without saying that you couldn’t leave without a face-to-face goodbye from your sister. But any unnecessary interactions with her friends were eliminated when he offered to go inside and fetch Nadia himself.

She came outside, raising no questions regarding your lie to get out of the rest of the night. You told her that your period had arrived earlier than expected - bringing with it very painful cramps. She took no issue with this average problem requiring two boyfriends to escort you home. She just hugged you tight and thanked you for putting an excellent hens night on. 

“The whole thing was Ethan’s idea, actually- he’s the one you should be thanking.” You said.

“Ethan.” Nadia cheered, grabbing him for a hug next. This was completed with a noisy kiss on his cheek, which told you that your sister had consumed enough tequila for a pleasant glow to come across her vision. “You see, I knew I loved this guy, from the first second I saw him- no, I’m serious.”

She had one arm around his shoulders and you wondered if this was a gesture of friendship, or done in the interest of keeping her intoxicated self upright. “I saw this guy and I was just like, this is the guy right here. I knew that I could trust him and not just ‘cause he looks like a Disney prince, you know, without all the hollow corporation bullshit. Just so ridiculously handsome, in the least threatening way possible.

“And this guy, too.” She gestured to Damiano. “I love this guy. Finally, a guy weird enough for my sister. And I mean that in the best way possible…”

“And I take it in the best way possible, Niddy.”

“Oh baby, uh-uh.” You said, taking his hand as you shook your head a little. “That’s more a niche nickname- you gotta work your way up in the friendship department before-”

“Nevermind that. He’s allowed to use my nickname, it’s not like he’s some stranger or anything- this is my little sister’s boyfriend.” She said. “Sure, we don’t know each other very well yet, but we’ll get there. And I should get used to it, ‘cause I have a feeling- I can sense, I’ll be hearing him use it for years to come.

“No, I’m serious.” She stressed, even though none of you had said anything to voice skepticism over this statement. “I really think you guys are gonna find a way to make this last. I don’t know how and I don’t know how three people can be on the same wavelength- but y’all are doing it. And I reckon that’s amazing.”

You resisted the urge to hide behind Damiano - you weren’t used to your sister having so many things to say. You were worried of what might come next, in her current state, you knew it was entirely possible for her to stumble her way into sharing an embarrassing memory.

“Y’all? Sheesh, you really are drunk.” You said.

She scoffed. “It’s my hens night- I’d be doing it wrong if I was still sober.”

“Do you need me to walk you back in?” Ethan asked.

She waved this away, starting to stand on her own two feet, no longer leaning on him. “No, no, you need to take care of my sister.” She reached both hands out for you. “Oh, you know what always cheered us up when we were kids?” You accepted her hands into yours - the smile on your face stiffened with worry. “The Parent Trap.”

You relaxed, thinking back on the countless times you had watched that movie during childhood. The two of you would practice your English accents and mimic your favourite lines tirelessly. “Well, that’s because that movie is a masterpiece.”

“I’ve never seen it.” Damiano said.

“I’m changing my opinion on you.” She said. “Because I’m very disappointed in you, very. No, I’m totally kidding. But for real, like, keeping it one hundred with y’all right now- I have never, ever understood her taste in men. But you- I’d kiss you full on your pretty mouth. And him too.”

She had managed to find a way to embarrass you and you grabbed her wrist to keep her from pointing at Damiano for any longer. “Okay, let’s not follow this thought any further…”

“I’m not going to, obviously.” She said, making you cringe all the more. “But I could.”

“Okay.” You shouted, loud enough to succeed in cutting her off. “You really need to get back inside before you miss the whole end of the game.”

She didn’t resist the hug that you forced upon her. “Message me when you get home safe. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

The three of you hesitated from immediately getting into your car - taking a pause to ensure that Nadia made it inside without tripping over her own feet.

“Giddy Niddy, I get why you call her that now.” Damiano said once she was out of sight.

“Yup, so she’s having a great time at the party.” You said. “And that’s all that matters.”

“I’ll drive.” Ethan offered and you plucked your keys out of your bag to hand to him.

“Thank you.” You pecked him on the cheek before making your way around to the passenger side.

“Whose place, mine?” Damiano asked.

“Sure.”

Aside from the radio playing (an easy to ignore mix of the currently charting songs), the car was silent. You didn’t have any funny stories from the night to share. Sitting behind you, you had no way of knowing what was keeping Damiano so quiet. But whenever you glanced across at Ethan, it was clear how upset he was. He didn’t take his eyes off of the road ahead, smoking his cigarette, wearing an expression that went beyond his usual level of seriousness. He was actively frowning.

You reached your hand out, resting it on his thigh. “We can leave all of this stuff out when Sno asks how the night went…”

“I just don’t get how she can have friends that are so close-minded…” He said. “And it’s not… I’m not saying that she’s bad at picking friends. It’s nothing against Nadia, oh at all. But like, people who are that fuckin’ prejudiced- shouldn’t they just all be lumped together? Hanging out and keeping all that negativity to themselves?”

“Like in a dumpster.” Damiano offered.

“Exactly, thank you.” Ethan said. “They can take the burning hatred that they’re spewing out- take that back to their dumpster and have a lovely dumpster fire.”

“It’s okay. I’ll just make sure that I get a look at the seating chart for the reception and get them far away from our table.” You said.

He shook his head, giving your hand a squeeze as he waited at a red light. “You shouldn’t have to do that. You, we- we shouldn’t have to spend the rest of our lives avoiding people like that, worried of the unsolicited opinions, and from members of our own community. Is that- how is that happening, that we have queer people trying to shame us ‘cause we aren’t their correct version of queer. Really, that’s what we’re doing?”

“It’s okay, love.” Damiano said, attempting to soothe Ethan with a stroke on his shoulder.

But it didn’t work. “No, it’s really not. Why is it not okay that I love you and you? Why do I have to limit myself, why should I be made to feel ashamed?”

“No Damiano, he’s totally right. There’s nothing okay with any of the shit those cows said to me- asking me if I’m a fuckin’ nymphomaniac, what? Who does that? I’m meeting them for the first time and they’re treating me like a pervert or a sex addict. And it’s at a party that I planned, to celebrate my sister. What the actual fuck?”

“You shouldn’t have had any cause for crying tonight.” He said.

“Yeah.” You said, letting the outrage take over for the moment. “It’s disgusting. They are the ones who should feel shame.”

“Damn right.”

“So, right now- sorry Dami, you’re wrong. Nothing is okay. Right now, all of this completely and utterly sucks. It’s a mess and I hate it and the only thing getting me through is having you and you.” You took a pause, composing yourself, unclenching your fists and adopting a softer tone of voice. “It’s gonna get better, it’s gotta get easier. But until it does, we’ve got each other.” Ethan gave your hand another squeeze. “And I couldn’t ask for better, more supportive, more wonderful partners. Partners who are so damn hot that they can even turn the head of my gold-star-lesbian of a sister.”

Ethan laughed a little. “Yeah, she really said that, didn’t she?”

Damiano leant forward in his seat, getting closer to the two of you. “What was that movie you were talking about, Parents Trap? Tell me what happens in it, maybe I’ll recognise it.”

“Okay, so it’s Lindsay Lohan in the nineties. Except there’s two of her, ‘cause they’re twins. Except they don’t know about the-”

“Wait, wait, wait.” He cut in on your synopsis. “Twins? Twins are creepy as Hell.”

“It’s not The Shining, darling.” Ethan said. “These ones aren’t creepy.”

“No, I’m tellin’ you- there’s always an evil one.”

“That sounds like an assessment backed up by a lot of scientific evidence.” You said sarcastically, making Ethan laugh.

“So it’s a scary movie, then?” Damiano asked.

“No, you literally couldn’t be more wrong if you tried.” You said.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Ethan said. “I’m sure he could find a way.”

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[minisugakoobies]

Thunder & Lightning | KNJ

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Genre: fluff, established relationship, non-Idol!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: it's very very soft, Namjoon has platinum hair, I feel like that's a valid warning

Word Count: 500 on the dot again

Disclaimers: None, other than I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: A sudden thunderstorm and a surprise offer make for an electrifying Saturday.

Prompts: fluff #1 “you look better in my clothes than i do.” & #50 “this isn’t adrenaline, i want to spend my life with you.”

A/N: Last one! This is for another anon. Sorry it took so long! I hope you enjoy this ridiculously fluffy fic. 💜

Thanks to everyone who sent in a request - I had so much fun with these. And a huge THANK YOU to everyone who has ever read, liked, reblogged, commented, sent me messages about my stories - y'all are truly the best. 💜💜💜💜💜

Unbeta'd as usual. Let me know what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕

Milestone Celebration Masterlist

Thunder rumbles as your boyfriend unlocks his apartment door. You enter behind him, dripping muddy water all over his kitchen tiles. “Ah, sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he calls over his shoulder as he wanders down the hall to his bedroom. “Let me grab you something clean.”

The two of you had been enjoying an invigorating Saturday morning run when a freak thunderstorm suddenly cut things short. Your mad scramble to return to his place before you got struck by lightning took a bad turn when you tripped and slid down a small hill, landing in a nasty mud puddle at the bottom.

Namjoon hands you some clothing before he wraps you up in a big fluffy towel, hugging you, pretending to squeeze all the water out while you giggle. You change in the kitchen, not wanting to track filth everywhere. When he returns from throwing your dirty clothes in the washer, he chuckles softly.

“You look better in my clothes than I do.”

You glance down at yourself. His t-shirt and shorts aren’t quite your style. They fit well enough, but they look much better on his large, muscular frame.

You snort. “Hardly. But… maybe I should keep some spare clothes here? For the future?” you add hesitantly. Although you’ve known each other for years, you’ve only been dating for three months and haven’t had any serious discussions about your relationship yet. Don’t want to jump the gun. “Just in case.”

He rifles through the fridge, handing you a coffee milk. “Or maybe you should just move in.”

“What?” And here you were afraid of getting ahead of yourself.

“I’m just saying. You could keep some clothes here, or you could keep all your stuff here.” He grins. “You practically live with me anyway. When’s the last time you slept in your own bed?”

“Uh…” He’s being a little hyperbolic - you don’t stay over every night. True, it has been a few days. And shuffling back and forth to your apartment to grab things is annoying. But still. Blinking rapidly, you shake your head. “Okay, you’re still on your runner’s high. Euphoria makes people say funny things.”

Namjoon laughs, looping his strong arms around your waist. “It’s not a runner’s high! This isn’t adrenaline, I want to spend my life with you. Why wait?” His nose nuzzles yours. “I love you. Move in with me.”

This isn’t how you’d imagined your Saturday would go. This is far beyond any of your expectations - or your dreams, honestly. You feel electrified.

Cupping his squishy cheeks in your hands, you practically shout, “I love you too!”

He dips his mouth against yours, and you can’t contain the joyful giggles that bubble up. Neither can he. Your laughter mixes together in a jubilant harmony. “So you’re moving in?”

“I’m moving in,” you confirm, brushing a lock of his platinum hair from his face. He kisses you again, and the storm booming outside is a dull roar compared to the thundering of your heart.

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3

© 2022-23 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

[quiltedgold]

study buddies - leorio p.

pairing: leorio paladiknight x f!reader

wc: 1.9k

genre: smut. 18+ pretty please

contains: smut, unprotected sex, switch!leorio, switch!reader, college-age, handjob, yada yada

notes: this has not been proofread so forgive any mistakes. my friend saw a tiktok art this concept and inspired me to write this. also the empty leorio smut tag made me sad, so. enjoy :p

As you approached the door of your apartment, you dug in your bag for your keys, and… Nothing. No metal against your fingertips or jangling sounds from the depths of the backpack.

Damn it. No way you forgot them in Leorio’s apartment. You two had been studying for so long, and you were positive you had gathered up all your things from the table before heading out…

After one last sweep of your backpack, you were positive. No keys.

Sighing, you turned to make the trek back across campus to Leorio’s place. It wasn’t too far, a fifteen minute walk, ten if you hurried. Hopefully he was still up.

Before long, you were back at the entrance to his apartment complex. Grabbing your phone, you dialed him up and waited as it rang, then went to voicemail. Ah, maybe he was in the shower? No matter, you had a spare key to his place in case of emergencies, and he for yours. He wouldn’t mind if you used it to grab what you needed and got out of there. Fishing it out of your bag, you unlocked the door and headed up to his floor.

Rapping twice on the door, you called out- “Hey, Leorio? It’s me, I forgot something…”

No reply.

Frowning, you slotted the key into the lock and eased the door open, hoping he wasn’t asleep.

Before you saw him, you heard him. Quick, ragged breaths, and the wet, unmistakable sound of… Oh, god.

He was splayed on the couch, his legs spread and his sweatpants loose around his thighs. His head was thrown back against the cushions, facing towards the door, and you. His face was twisted in pleasure, his teeth digging into his lower lip. His sunglasses were nowhere to be seen.

The sounds you heard were coming from his hand wrapped around his dick, rapidly fisting it into his palm. As you watched, his hips stuttered upwards once, and he threw his head back even further, letting out a whine, adam’s apple bobbing up his throat. He looked absolutely debauched.

Your brain battled with your desires, respect for your friend warring with the thoughts raging through your head.

Just when you thought you could work up the courage to leave, Leorio moaned your name in the most breathless, needy tone you’d ever heard from him, followed by a whiny, “Fuck, y/n, please-”

Your feet were immediately frozen to the floor, heart leaping into your throat. Your common sense told you to scram, to shut the door quietly and let him have his privacy and forget this ever happened, for both of your sakes’.

But the other part of you was louder. The part who knew that you’d been lusting after your friend for months, the part who’s encouraged the urge to crawl into his lap and kiss him breathless and more each time you hung out to study, but always been stifled… until now. That part of you made your brain kick into gear again.

You stepped quietly inside, shutting the door behind you, kicking off your shoes and placing your bag on the ground.

You padded over to the couch, face heating up with anticipation as you got closer.

“Leorio…” you whispered, and his eyes flew open, letting out a choked gasp. The hand around his dick halted its ministrations, and he scrambled to pull his sweatpants back up.

“Oh my god, y/n, I’m so sorry, I, I thought you had left-”

“If you were so pent up, you could have asked for my help,” you hummed, gently pushing his hand away from his sweatpants. “What else is a study buddy for?”

Leorio gulped, desperately searching your eyes for confirmation that his actions weren’t wrong, that you meant what you were saying. His pupils were still blown with pleasure, sweat beaded across his forehead.

You trailed your fingers up his thigh, ghosting the base of his dick.

“Need some help?” you asked, holding his gaze for affirmation.

“Yes, please, god, yes. I- I need you so bad, please,” he moaned, bucking his hips up into your featherlight touch.

Smiling, you retracted your hand and fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt instead. “I want you to show me how you were doing it,” you requested.

Gasping, he grabbed his cock again and began pumping it, screwing his eyes shut with pleasure and perhaps shame.

“Tell me what you think about when you do it,” you said, sliding a hand beneath his shirt.

“You, always you,” he moaned without hesitation. “Kissing you, eating you out, f-fucking you, nngh-” He cut himself off as your fingers circled his nipple.

“Keep going,” you teased.

“Oh, god. You, sucking my- my cock, under the table or in the shower, or- fuck!” He jolted as you gave his nipple a pinch. “Please, I want you to… I want-”

“Want me to jerk you off?” You offered.

“Yes,” he answered, gasping.

With a devilish grin, you slid onto the couch next to him and tucked yourself into his side, placing your hand atop his on his cock, entangling your fingers and leading the pace, purposefully slowing it down. You moved with long, slow strokes, squeezing lightly at the base and tracing your thumb against the tip. He was painfully hard, beads of precum oozing from the angry red tip, and his hips bucked up with every especially hard squeeze.

“Fuck,” he garbled. “Fuck, y/n, it’s so good, please, I need to… I need to c-come, please-”

“Go ahead, Leorio,” you purred. “Come for me.”

With a strangled moan, his hips jutted upwards one last time and cum spurted from his tip, painting both of your knuckles’ white. Each pulse of liquid sent a jolt up his cock, and you squeezed it lightly as he rode out the bulk of his orgasm.

As he wound down, panting, you lifted your hand from his dick and brought it to your mouth, making sure he watched as you lapped up his salty substance from each finger. His eyes, already lidded, darkened with desire.

Flitting your gaze down again to his length, you saw that, unbelievably, it was still hard.

“Y/n,” he rasped. “Let me fuck you. Please.”

It was all you could do to nod before he flipped you over, back pressed into the cushions and head against the arm of the couch. In the blink of an eye, he had your shirt and skirt off, leaving you in simply the matching set of lingerie you’d worn in the event that this was an outcome of tonight’s study session.

Leaning back on his heels, he raked his eyes across your figure, admiring each inch, squeezing the base of his cock again with the sight of you.

Struck with a wave of self-consciousness, you pressed your thighs together and turned your head into the armrest, face burning.

Leorio tsked, “Don’t get shy now, not after you just jerked me off on my own couch,” he growled, slotting his knee in between your thighs to force them apart. Running a finger along your covered slit, he stopped when he reached your heat, pressing lightly then bringing his finger up to examine.

“Oh, my god, you’re soaking,” he groaned, sucking his finger into his mouth to lap your juices clean. He leaned down to capture you in a kiss, hungrily sucking at your lower lip and dipping his tongue into your mouth. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and something that normally would have disgusted you only served to turn you on further as your tongues pressed against each other. You kissed hungrily for several moments, until the heat burning down below became too much to bear.

“Please, fuck me,” you moaned into his ear, looping your arms around his neck. “I can’t wait any longer, please.”

Nodding, Leorio wasted no time, shoving your panties to the side and lining his cock up with your entrance. Even the touch of his tip against your hole had both of you groaning, and he met your gaze and held it as he pushed his length all the way in. You wailed, wrapping your legs around his trim waist and trying everything to pull him closer, deeper.

His cock stretched your walls deliciously, filling you perfectly and making you wonder how you could have ever lived without this.

After his pelvis pressed flush against yours, his length as deep as humanly possible, he paused to give you time to adjust. Time held still, your breathing synched, his head dropped against your shoulder and pressing openmouthed kisses against your collarbone, light sideburns scratching gently against your jawline.

Then the moment was over, and he pulled out entirely, just the tip remaining. You almost cried at the loss, but he thrusted back into your heat before you could procure the sound.

The pace he set was breakneck, cock slamming into your tight hole, his moans echoing in your ear. What should have been too much only fanned the flames of your lust, throwing your head back with each thrust and crying his name and an assortment of obscenities.

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Leorio groaned, breathless. “Ever since you came to my place in that short-ass skirt and kept uncrossing your legs in front of me, god-”

His hands gripped your waist for dear life as he fucked into you, the size of them deliciously large compared to your frame, his thumbs practically touching. Leorio’s fingers pressed shadows into the soft of your stomach, undoubtedly leaving marks by the end of the night; which you couldn’t find it in yourself to be unhappy about.

“Remember that?” He asked, rolling his hips in a way that made you squeal. “I was convinced you were doing it to- nngh- to tease me. By the end of the night I was this close to bending you over the table and taking you right there, shit.”

Catching his breath, he leaned down to hiss in your ear. “But I guess that’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? Little slut.”

Fuck. You wailed at that, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Your fingers scrabbled for purchase against his back, likely leaving scratches against its tan expanse.

He groaned, speeding up the pace of his thrusts, cock insatiably hot and thick inside you. “Y/n, I’m close- want you to come with me, c’mon-”

Thankfully, the incessant slapping of his balls against your ass, pelvis rubbing against your clit, and his length reaching impossible centers within your cunt was sending you dangerously close to the edge.

“Please, Leorio, I need it, I need you, please-”

“Fuck, baby, I’m c-coming, where d’you- where do you want it-”

“Inside, inside-” you gasped without thinking, and he buried his cock inside you one last time, groaning as thick spurts of white painted your walls. The feeling of his cum inside you sent you over the edge, arching your back and sending your eyes rolling back into your skull as your orgasm racked your body, fireworks of pleasure radiating through each appendage. You gripped his damp hair for purchase as you rode out your climax, and he huffed against your throat, arm muscles rippling as their strength faded.

Both of you panted as you came down from your respective highs. Rolling off you, Leorio collapsed at your side, hands trailing over your heaving chest.

With a puff of laughter, you turned your head to meet his eyes, now droopy and satisfied as they gazed into yours.

You grinned softly. “I should forget my keys over here more often.”