#damn this suit was impossible to draw good god

[lilbitofmac]

So, the IM2 race suit… 💙✨

[nimpnawakproduction]

The ultimate reference sheets for all of Vash's outfits in Trigun maximum (with commentaries)

IT IS DONE. I'M FREE. Now I can forget all about Trimax and draw Trigun stampede designs only hahaha (just kidding I have things for Trimax on the stove).

Trigun bookclub was an awesome initiative, I loved the manga with my all heart and wanted to honor Nightow's designs ;w; I also wanted to help my fellow artists with references for Vash's clothes because DEAR GOD it's difficult to understand how the hell he dresses himself in the morning. I have a lot of fun dressing and undressing him like a barbie doll. My hyperfixation is completely healthy.

I put a "read more" section to avoid spoilers :) !

The July coat

The very first coat in Trigun chronology and the one he wores during the destruction of July ! There is not a lot of panels to take references but I tried to stay as close as possible to the manga. I don't know what number of prosthesis he had before but let name this one Prosthesis 1.

Scars map

Next, nakey Vash ! There's A LOT of changes between one panel to another. Scars changes places and forms panel to panel and the design evolved from the first chapters of Trigun, the time we see him naked as Eriks and his undressed state while he was a prisoner on the Ark. I drew the scars that appeared more than once or were in clean view in a panel (but really you can do like Nightow and draw as many scars as you want without thinking about consistency, this boy has been in a meat grinder)

After July underclothes

Or the jumpsuit that gave me grey hair. His suit does not make ANY sense, I don't know how the hell he dresses himself in the morning with this. My solution is that it's very long gloves and chaps strapped to a belt. The position and shapes of the belts changes IN EVERY PANEL. Same for his knee guards, sometimes they're here, sometime they cover his shins, sometimes they are tiny..... I gave up in the end and draw them as we see them in the very last panel he wears this suit. But damn he looks good in it.

Also in all of the 13 volumes, there is not a single panel with a clear view of his holster (I checked...) so here is my interpretation.

This is prosthesis n°2, the design is a little different from the first one so I guess Prosthesis 1 got destroyed (this happens a lot).

After July coat

The very first Trigun coat he wears in the manga ! Very simple, very basic, it gives him impossibly wide shoulders but Vash deserves it. The first one is worn Post July until Vash's confrontation against Brilliant Dynamite Neon. The second one is the state of his coat after the sandsteamer incident. He loses his prothesis after his fight against Monev the gale. He meets Wolfwood with only one arm and stays that way while he fights Knives for the first time.

Eriks

I took liberties with colors because there's no colored panels with Vash as Eriks. Yes I drew him without suspenders because he has them for like 5 panels and then Nightow drew him without them for the rest of Eriks arc so I made choices ;w;

I love the fact that Vash choose to wear tight jeans even in his casual outfits, this boy will not let his skin breath. This is now Prosthesis 3 ! It's way less advanced than the ones he wore in the rest of the manga, the other ones seem to replicate skin.

After his years as Eriks

And now the first Maximum coat, he wears it until the famous Yuri hospital arc! Finally an undersuit that makes sense, I love it, too bad Nightow-san decided that I had to suffer and changed it again to add BELTS EVERYWHERE. We only see his legs in this part of the manga so I gave him the same top because I can.

The tubes he has on his waist are filled with bullets, he can connect them to his prosthesis to have a mini machine gun.

We are now at Prosthesis 4 !

Hospitalization on the Home ship

The famous Yuri hospital phase! Vash definitely shared his wardrobe with Wolfwood, you can't tell me otherwise.

The first outfit still shows Prothesis 4 but he keeps it for like 5 minutes and lost it again against Nine-lives. I don't really know if the prothesis comes with the integrated glove or if there's synthetic skin under it but why would he keep the glove on if it's not intergrated?

The second pictures is the different outfits he wears during his convalescence. I took liberties with the colors, I drew this in like 10 minutes, everything seems easy when you don't have to draw BELTS. We are now on Prothesis 5 ! Nightow drew it as a regular arm so I guess Vash wears gloves on top of it??????

Back on the road in pursuit of Knives

He wears this one after his stay at Home, throughout the Dragon's nest ark and until his 2nd fight against Knives.

I liked the design of his jumpsuit until I looked closer at the panels and saw that the design change ON EVERY ONE OF THEM. Knee guard on only one knee? No kneeguards? Two??? WHO KNOWS ??? I tried to make it work but really go wild with this one, even the author does not know how his pant looks.

Still prosthesis 5, BUT UNTIL WHEN?

Prisoner on the Ark

THEY MASSACRED MY BOY. Did they even feed him at least in 7 months? Those pictures are the definition of the drenched kitty cat left under the rain. Give this man a blanket and a therapist.

Bye bye Prothesis 5 ! And see what I mean when I say that his outfit does not make sense????? It comes out in parts????

After his imprisonment on the Ark

The last suit in the manga! He keeps this coat until the end of the story. From this point, only his hair changes (or the color of his coat).

I adore the little angel wing symbol on his left arm, such a cute addition. Too bad it appears in one of the most traumatic event of his life.

Speaking of his jumpsuit...The return of belts.... But at least this outfit stays relatively coherent except for his kneeguards who appear and disappear panel from panel but most of the time he doesn't have any, so no kneeguard it is. Prosthesis 6 hello !

Final battle and end of the story

It hurted to drew those outfits ;w; And working on the design of his coat when he fights Legato made me realize where Orange studio took inspiration to chose the colors for Vash's coat in the final episode of Stampede ! Great job ! I tried to color the same effects as one of the illustrations showing dark Vash but I'm not really good with colors..... He actually radiates energy but with some purple undertones, I took some liberties because those are my drawings I do what I want.

I'm not sure at 100% that he has a tuft of blond hair left when his outfit turns black but his hair is all black at the end of the fight. His prosthesis is destroyed at the end of the fight. He got another one in the final chapter. So 7 prosthesis throughout the story!

[metaphorical-goblin]

How about #2 with nrmt

“Phoenix?!”

His head shoots up, his shoulders strain from the officer’s grasp. “Miles!” He screams it, tugging against his cuffs, as he watches Miles fly down the courthouse stairs, Gumshoe’s coat wrapped around his shoulders and billowing all around him. Miles nearly crashes into him, sending them both careening against the squad car (and they would have, if this blonde jackass wasn’t holding on to Phoenix like he was actually going to try and run away). The man’s grip on his shoulders tightens, even as Miles’ hands scrabble for purchase on his suit jacket.

“Oh, God,” he whispers, knotting his fingers in Phoenix’s hair. “Oh God, oh God, I thought you died.” It stings, the way he pulls, but it’s good because he’s here and he knows Miles is alive, knows his fingers are real and his arms are real and that this is all real. “I thought you were dead.” His voice shakes with every trembling breath, and Phoenix just wants to scoop him up and carry him home.

“Edgeworth.” The cop’s voice is tense, terse, but somehow almost regretful. 

Miles doesn’t remove his arms. “A moment, Lang,” he spits, hot and furious, his nails digging into Phoenix’s back like claws. “Give me a single damn moment.”

And he sighs, irritated, but he relents. Phoenix feels his cuffed hands fall slack behind him, and he leans against Miles, legs trembling. “Miles,” he croaks, voice weak. He nudges Miles’ head aside as gently as he can and dips his head, pressing a single, soft kiss to his lips, no longer than a heartbeat or two. Miles draws back, silent, simply staring at him, mouth ever-so-slightly open. 

Phoenix leans forward, then, pressing their clammy foreheads together. “I thought I lost you,” he says, lips barely moving. 

That body, in his office—Miles’ office—wearing his coat, slumped over his desk.

His fingerprints were all over the scene. The victim’s blood, all over his hands.

Who could blame him?

There’re fingers curled around the nape of his neck, again, fingers curled in the front of his shirt, and Miles is kissing him, hard, first a gentle press of the lips and then a nip, a bite, an invasion of tongue as he drinks Phoenix down. Phoenix runs his tongue along Miles’ lower lip, groans at the way Miles goes limp against him, at the way he presses their bodies impossibly closer—

It’s all over before he can even open his eyes. “Edgeworth, come on.” The cop—Lang, apparently—interrupts, eyes averted but his hand now firmly clasped between Phoenix’s shoulder blades.

Miles pulls away, pupils blown, hands fisted in the front of Phoenix’s shirt. “I’ll figure this out,” he whispers. “I’ll— Gumshoe’s here, we’ll investigate right now, we’ll figure this whole thing out, and you’ll be out of there before they can even finish checking you in, I promise.”

“Don’t you dare go back in there, Miles. It’s not safe, who knows what—”

One hand lays soft on his cheek; the other tightens on his shoulder, gripping to the point of painful. 

“I’ll figure it out,” Miles says again, pulling his other hand close to his chest. “I’ll take care of everything. I promise.”

His back hits the ancient seats of the police cruiser, the door slams behind him, and all he can do is watch in horror as Miles stands on the sidewalk, coat billowing in the wind. The flames swallowing the prosecutors’ office lick ever higher, and the sound of approaching fire department sirens are Phoenix’s only comfort as Miles turns and marches himself back up those marble stairs as the sea of fleeing people parted around him.

---

Feel free to ask for another prompt from this list!

[cricketnationrise]

8.24pm, Alexia Tarabotti and Alanna of Pirate’s Swoop and Olau, outside on the terrace. Song lyric: “and I resent you just a little if I’m honest, one of us has gotta try to keep a promise”.

this prompt made me realize how long its been since i read Parasol Protectorate, so that series is back on the list and moving up -- i miss them! all that to say, I went with Alanna for your ficlet because I just reread Song of the Lioness in December so it's a lot fresher. hope you like it!

want your own ficlet? submit your prompt using these guidelines through January 31, 2024.

⚔️⚔️⚔️⚔️

past the eighth bell, terrace

Alanna is not cut out for this kind of sneaking around.

She may have won the duel against Kel, may have faked good humor, may have joked around with the New Hope soldiers and commanders all afternoon, but she can’t pretend anymore tonight.

Dinner’s barely over, but she excuses herself to her quarters, waving off offers of just one more round with a forced smile. As soon as she clears the mess hall, she lets her face drop with a sigh and makes her way across the compound to the guest quarters with a purposeful stride.

Thankfully, no one stops her.

Alanna isn’t tired, per se, she just can’t handle being around people any longer—the only people she wants to see right now are miles, possibly oceans away.

Her rooms are too small to contain her frustration, so Alanna slips out onto the terrace attached to her suite—perks of being the Lioness. She leans heavily on the railing and looks up at the sky. The Cat constellation seems to wave at her somehow, and a reluctant grin tugs at the side of her lips. She can hear echoes of Faithful’s reproaches in her mind. He’d certainly have an earful for her if he could see her now.

Are you really sulking because someone else gets to be the hero this time around?

As she gazes up at the stars, Alanna lets her vision blur, trying to center herself before she retires for the night. It would be a lot easier if George had come with her. Or if he’d already found their wayward daughter and brought her back to the Swoop, safe and sound.

But they’d agreed: Alanna would go about her business as normal—saying nothing about Aly’s disappearance, so as not to draw attention from the wrong sort of people—and George would search for Aly.

Alanna wasn’t built for this, for maintaining a placid face, for lying about her family, for doing nothing. She had never been one for downtime. Gods, even during the Tusaine War as a squire she’d been helping out in the healer’s tents every chance she could. She’d never come up against something like this, a problem that some action on her part couldn’t solve.

It’s maddening, actually.

And she knows—she knows, okay?—that she can’t be the one to search for her daughter, to rescue her, to bring her back home. Alanna knows she’s too inconspicuous, too famous—that any hint of Aly being the Lioness’ daughter would put her in even more danger.

But damn it all, she resents the fact that she has to maintain a front, that she has to pretend, to friends and enemies alike, that all is well.

In her pettier moments, she even resents George.

Alanna scrubs a hand over her face in frustration. Dwelling on the impossibility of her situation won’t help her sleep tonight, won’t bring Aly back any sooner.

All she can do is hope. And put her faith in her husband, and the gods, to bring her daughter home.

[downwiththeficness]

The Usurper-Chapter Ten

Summary: Lilah McNamara stole things for a living. It was tedious work and often dangerous, which made it just exciting enough to keep her interested. After botching a routine job, Lilah finds herself standing amid monsters. Wholly unprepared for the horror of living under Amaru’s reign, Lilah decides to use her well honed skills to thwart the queen’s plans and prevent the end of the world.

Word Count: ~

Disclaimer: I do not consent to this work being copied or posted to other sites of blogs.

Start at the Beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter

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God damn, but Javier had good taste. Lilah frowned at herself in the mirror and tried not to hate the man for his ability to pick outfits that suited her perfectly. Lilah would never have looked twice at the softly draped sheath dress in shell pink. And, she certainly never would have dared to step into the satin pumps that adorned her feet. More than that, she would never have thought to put the two together in a single outfit.

“I look amazing,” she murmured, wondering why it felt like her stomach was turned around in knots. No. She knew exactly the reason, and it wasn’t because she looked good.

This was a date. It was definitely a date. Lilah was going to a bar for drinks with Brasa. He’d even assured her there would be a band. She was dressed up, her hair was done, and she’d put on a little more makeup than normal. Most days, all this effort would be put towards the goal of disarming a mark. But, not tonight. Tonight, Lilah’s effort was to...what? To tempt him? To draw him in? To make him want her?

Lilah had mixed feelings about Brasa on her best days. On her worst, she resented him for putting her in a position that had no good outcome. She’d either spend the rest of her life in the caves, or Amaru would kill her. Lilah wasn’t sure which option was better. Death might be a mercy, given the certainty that she was going to go insane if she spent much more time isolated from the rest of the world. It didn’t matter how much Brasa tried to reassure her, Lilah couldn’t figure out how to get around her biggest hurdle to freedom.

She turned from the mirror, hoping that she could distract herself from the impossibility of her situation with a little alcohol and music loud enough to ring in her ears for hours afterwards. Brasa assured her that she could go out as often as she liked and this was her first attempt to test that theory. It occurred to her that she should try to find an opportunity to run. Brasa was less likely to drag her kicking and screaming back to the car if there were others around to act as witnesses. Less likely didn’t mean that he wasn’t capable. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way Javier talked about the lengths Brasa would go to in order to get her back. To the ends of the earth...

The bedroom door opened and Brasa stepped through. Lilah lifted her brows at him, “Please tell me you’re changing before we leave.”

Brasa looked down at his outfit, much the same as he always wore. Black on black, leather coat and gloves. He hesitated before saying, “Ah, maybe?”

Lilah took a moment to think about how she was going to say the thing that definitely needed to be said, “You can’t go out into public like that.”

Dark brows drew together, “Why?”

She held back a laugh at his genuinely confused expression, “Because people are going to either think you’re some kind of cosplayer or...deeply into BDSM.”

More confusion, “What’s BDSM?”

“That’s probably something you should look up for yourself,” Lilah said quickly. “My point is that you need to blend in a bit.”

The door opened again and Javier hurried inside, “My deepest apologies for intruding, but she’s back.”

“Already?” Brasa drawled, looking unhappy.

“Yes. And, from what I’ve seen so far, her trip was unsuccessful.”

Brasa muttered what sounded like a curse under his breath, “Alright. I’ll deal with her,” he turned to Lilah, “and we’ll go.”

“You’re gonna change first, right?”

He sighed, “What would you like me to wear?”

Lilah shrugged, “Just blend in, okay?”

Javier inched forward, “I have something that might work.”

Javier to the rescue.

“Thank you,” Brasa said. Then, “Let’s get this over with.” To Lilah he added, “Wait here, please.”

Feeling somewhat bewildered, Lilah watched the two of them leave. She stared at the door for a long time, then trudged over to the bed and sat down to wait. Lilah waited, and waited, and waited. She waited so long that she thought the bar might close before they got there. That thought came along with an odd sense of relief. All the pressure of enjoying the next few hours to the fullest for fear that she might not get another chance any time soon lifted. She wouldn’t have to try to make small talk, wouldn’t have to try to be pleasant. Wouldn’t get distracted by his smile. Or his dimples. Or his impossibly brown eyes.

From somewhere far away came a noise. It was small, at first, but the sound grew in volume and force with such speed that Lilah jerked to standing. Staring into the middle distance, she listened hard for something that might tell her just what the fuck that was. The noise paused briefly, then started again with a deafening boom. She rushed to the door and was out in the hall before her brain caught up with her legs. In the dark, she searched for the danger.

It sounded like thunder. How could she hear thunder hundreds of yards underground? Lilah turned her head and looked both ways down the hall—there it was again. Not thunder. More like...a roar. Lilah took a step towards it with a hand lifted, as if to shield herself from attack.

Another roar. Lilah took off running. She blew through the door and into the massive cavern. Her legs stopped cold when she caught Amaru in the process of tearing the head off a person who was fighting for their life. Lilah’s jaw unhinged and she had every intention of screaming, but no sound came out. She’d seen Brasa kill, knew that she was surrounded by blood drinkers, but watching the skin tear apart in real time was sickening.

“My queen,” Brasa said in a cool tone, “was that necessary?”

Amaru dropped the head. It landed with a wet plop at her feet, “She failed me. Like you have failed me.”

Brasa was faced away from her and he hadn’t noticed Lilah was standing there watching. His body was upright and rigid, as if there was a string lifting him from above. Lilah half expected to look down and find his boots hanging an inch or two from the stone floor. On either side, his hands were clenched into fists. “Its going to take time to track down the book, my queen.”

Amaru stared him down and Lilah could feel the anger radiating from her, “I wouldn’t even need the book if I wasn’t stuck in this ridiculously weak body.”

“I understand,” he replied. “Its very frustrating for me, too. But, if you want to open the door, we need the book.”

Amaru didn’t seem at all impressed by Brasa’s measured response. She marched up to him and pointed a finger in his face, “For every day you make me wait, I’ll tear somebody apart. Even though they breed like rabbits, there’s only so many of them. Guess who I’ll come for when I run out.” Brasa’s ‘my queen’ was cut off when Amaru slammed the heel of her palm into his chest and sent him flying. He landed ten feet from where he was standing and stayed there while Amaru sneered, “No more failures.”

Lilah waited for her to disappear before she allowed herself to move. Even then, it was only to bring her hand to her chest. She drew calming breaths while she waited for Brasa to get up. He did, eventually, but his movements were slow. Lilah thought he might actually be hurt, which produced an odd pang that unsettled her. She might not like him very much and she might resent him, but something about watching Amaru toss him around in a fit if pique didn’t sit right.

After dusting himself off, Brasa turned and finally realized she was there. He said her name softly and the two syllables were touched with mortification. Lilah knew what it was like to have someone witness an ass kicking. In some ways just knowing there was another set of eyes in the room made the whole thing even worse.

She straightened her shoulders and smiled, “Tough day at the office?”

Brasa looked down at the head still sitting on the floor, “You could say that.”

“Do you want to reschedule?”

“No,” he answered after a few seconds, “I think getting out of here is a good idea.”

Lilah nodded and gestured towards the body, “Should we...bury her, or something?”

“I’ll ask Javier to care for her,” Brasa replied. “He should—.”

“I’m here,” Javier said as he entered the room with a garment bag over his arm. He looked at the gore below, “I take it the meeting didn’t go well.”

“It didn’t.”

Javier snapped into action, “Take this. Go change. I’ll handle the body. Lady Lilah, if you’ll wait in your room, this will not be easy to watch.”

As if watching her die was easy? Lilah thought, with ire. Followed by, I’ve seen two murders, lately. I wonder how many more there will be. She said, “Sure. I can do that,” while she pushed down the image of Raul’s terrified face.

Brasa reached for her, “Come on.”

Arms crossed over her chest, Lilah let Brasa lead her out of the cavern and down the hall to her room. Once inside, he split off and headed for the bathroom without a word. Lilah found herself once again sitting on the bed, waiting. She folded her hands in her lap and tried to parse her feelings about the last ten minutes of her life.

Lilah knew that Amaru was brutal and a little bit unstable. She also knew that Amaru was powerful. The mix of powerful and unstable had led to what felt like an inevitable conclusion: sadism. Whatever she was looking for, Amaru was willing to kill for it. She was also willing to punish her most trusted lieutenant in the process. Which didn’t bode well for Lilah.

She had been kept well away from Amaru for weeks. Aside from their introduction, Lilah hadn’t seen the other woman at all. The only news about her came from the little details that Lilah was able to glean from Javier and Brasa. The two of them spoke to each other in a way that suggested a long-suffering relationship of managing what basically amounted to tantrums when Amaru didn’t get her way.

Lilah didn’t know the extent of Javier’s abilities, but she thought she had some surface knowledge about what Brasa could do. It didn’t make sense that the two of them refused to team up and take down Amaru together. Their lives would certainly be a little less stressful without having to clean up after their sovereign.

Brasa stepped out of the bathroom and Lilah’s brain sort of stopped for a second. He was dressed in a button up and slacks, which wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary. But, Javier’s selection was a cotton in a deep purple with cuff links that glinted gold. The pants were black, of course, but cut closer to his body than he usually preferred. In fact, the whole outfit was tailored impeccably to skim the lines of his frame. Taken as a whole, Brasa looked really fucking good.

She remembered thinking that he was in shape back when he was Antonio. His conservative style and the fact that he occasionally wore a robe managed to effectively hide the body underneath. When he became Brasa, the leather coat and heavy fabrics did much the same. Now, wrapped in thin cotton, Lilah could see the breadth of his shoulders and the way the muscle rolled when he moved. It pulled at the yoke of his shirt with every breath. Brasa lifted his hands to button the cuffs and Lilah had to tuck her fingers into her palm to keep from reaching out to trace the outline of his bicep. He might be dressed like any other man in the bar, but there was no denying that Brasa could put somebody on their ass.

“You look nice,” Lilah said when she found her voice. She looked down. He was still wearing the gloves. What was with the gloves?

Brasa smiled and those fucking dimples formed on either side of his mouth. Lilah’s brain stopped again, stumbling over the fact that she could find him so completely attractive despite her less than kind feelings about him. “Thank you,” he said. “Should we go?”

Shaking herself back to awareness, Lilah pushed from the bed to stand and answered, “Yes, of course.”

He guided her out of the room and moved left down the hall. Lilah felt him take her hand while the light around her dimmed, “We’re not going the other way?”

Brasa glanced back at her, “Its faster this way.”

“Oh.”

The path was fairly straight, only a turn or two, but Lilah felt the gentle incline put a little burn in her calves. She should have known better than to wear the heels Javier picked out for her. The only way out was through the caves and the ground beneath her was unpredictable, at best.

Not long after that, moonlight cut through a large opening. Lilah stepped out into fresh air and saw that it as the same entrance Brasa brought her to on the night she found out he wasn’t human. She looked around, her brows coming together as she recognized Antonio’s car parked not too far away. It had only been a few days, but the memory of seeing Brasa standing in the doorway of the church seemed like a lifetime ago.

Brasa pulled a set of keys from his pocket and clicked a button. Lights flashed on a late model Mercedes in black. Lilah followed him to the car and let him help her into the passenger’s seat. With the door closed, Lilah let herself think that the interior was really, really nice while trying to forget that the person who owned it was probably dead. The driver’s side door opened and Brasa dropped into the seat. Lilah listened to the engine turn over, then asked, “What book is Amaru looking for?”

If Lilah wanted to live, she needed to know everything she could about the key players on the board in order to make the best decisions regarding her safety. Even if Amaru was insane, Lilah could tell that she was goal oriented. If Lilah knew the intimate details of what drove Amaru’s decisions, she could anticipate (and possibly mitigate) the danger.

Brasa’s hand hesitated over the gear shift, “A book on ancient Xibalban ritual.”

Lilah was surprised he’d actually answered the question. She decided to pry further, “What kind of ritual?”

Another hesitation, “She...wants to open the door between dimensions.”

Lilah’s head turned very slowly so that she could look at him, “She wants to do what?”

Brasa pulled away from the cave with confident hands, “Open the door between dimensions.”

“Why the fuck would she do that?”

He took a breath, “I suppose she misses home.”

Lilah stared at him for a long moment while she tried to process, “I know that I’ve only met her once—the recent murder notwithstanding—but I definitely get the feeling that Amaru isn’t capable of being homesick.”

Brasa chuckled while the car zoomed towards a distant highway, “You’re right. I think she misses the power.”

“Brasa,” she said with disbelief in her tone, “she tore the head off somebody right in front of us. How much more powerful can she get?”

“You’re right again,” he replied. “Power might not be the right word. Maybe influence is better.”

“Influence?”

A nod, “Amaru was...untouchable in Xibalba. She oversaw nearly the whole dimension, had an army of culebras that soaked the ground with blood in her name.” He paused, “Here, she’s stuck in the body of a child with a fraction of her influence. Her army can be obliterated with the next sunrise. The humans don’t know about her. Worse, its unlikely they’ll care unless she slaughters them in droves.”

Lilah’s brain helpfully supplied the image of a neck separating from a torso, “Opening a door to another dimension isn’t going to stop her from doing that.”

“I know,” he relented, “But, searching for the book is enough of a distraction to put off the need to dig mass graves for a little while.”

“How long?”

“As long as it takes.”

Lilah grabbed onto something in his tone, “You’re trying to prevent it.” Brasa was quiet long enough that she decided she was right. “I don’t think I pictured you as particularly protective of humanity.”

“I’m not,” he replied and Lilah deflated a little bit. “I’ve seen this before. She conquers her enemy, sucks the life from them until there’s nothing but a husk. She did the same in Xibalba and she’ll do the same here.”

“I don’t understand why it matters where she does it.”

“It doesn’t,” Brasa replied, “What matters is that she does it. Can you imagine what its like to see an entire world drained of everything that makes it,” he searched for the words, “a world? Can you imagine what its like to watch that happen over and over with no goal but the sheer enjoyment of watching something die?”

“No, I can’t,” Lilah said quietly. She could hear the exhaustion in his voice and it very nearly caused her to sympathize with him. “Why now? You’ve been with her forever. Why try to stop her now?”

He glanced at her briefly, “Its not obvious?”

She hissed through her teeth, “So, we meet and suddenly you want to save humanity? Is it because I happen to be a part of humanity?”

The car pulled off from the highway into a metropolitan area, “Not at all.”

“Then, what is it?”

“Change,” Brasa murmured, “Meeting you showed me that change was possible.”

Lilah rolled her eyes, “Please. You’ve lived for centuries and you just now figured that out?”

His mouth twisted, “Yes, I have lived for centuries. I have lived the same life for centuries. Do you know what its like to be told what to do every waking moment? To have no choice in who you talk to, who you threaten, who you fuck,” his voice went quiet, “who you kill?”

Well, now Lilah felt like an asshole. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, saying, “No, I don’t.”

Brasa pulled the car to a stop in the parking lot of a building with a sleek exterior and huge windows, “I don’t have choices, Lilah. Not for the things that matter. What Amaru tells me to do, I do.”

“Why?”

“Because I have to. Because I made a mistake a long time ago.” He cut the engine and leaned towards her from across the console, “But, with you, I can see that I might not have to do that anymore if I am very, very careful.”

Lilah stared at him, “I don’t understand.”

“One day, I’m going to explain it to you,” he replied, “Not tonight, but one day. Let me give you the chance to relax for a few hours, hmm?”

He was asking her to stop for now. Lilah sighed and decided that she would heed the request, “Alright, but I want a giant drink with lots of alcohol.”

Brasa smiled, “Done.”

[scumbag-monthly]

The Young Ones - Cash 🧊

Original air date: 15.5.84

Reviewed by: @xgardensinspace

Darling fascist bully boys, it is very exciting to be here with you all, celebrating the 40th anniversary of The Young Ones by reviewing all of their amazingly chaotic episodes! I chose to talk about Cash, and here’s why: The episode gave us some unique “firsts”, great visuals, and very quotable phrases that live rent-free in my mind. Unique things like Vyvyan’s The Damned t-shirt; seeing the fireplace in the house and thus making the drawing room be the fourth wall; meeting the boys’ next door neighbour; the gang FINALLY gets to have some proper CASH for once in their life (even if it was extremely brief); and chopping up Neil’s hair! (his bit alone was a big reason why I picked this episode as one of my options for review; Neil with short, choppy hair is such a cute visual and I still really want to draw him like that. Plus he wears one of Mike’s suits and I hold all of this very dear to my heart.

Now, I’ll break down some of the most notable moments and quotes (at least for me) of the episode in hopes that this will showcase the highlights of why this episode is so bloody amazing.

“I’ve just nailed my legs to the table.” It came so unexpectedly that I was laughing for 10 straight gay minutes when I first saw it. It’s not about Mike “floating”… It was the whole “nailing PLATES” to the table that did it for me. The way this joke was set up and the final punch-line form a beautiful choreography that was immaculately timed. I also can’t quite figure out how the practical effect of Mike floating was done, but I think I’d rather leave it a mystery.

For starters, Mike nails plates down to the table. At first there’s this whole hilariously magical moment because Mike has done the impossible! But then the episode turns around and gives us one of the most unexpected gags I’ve ever encountered in comedy:

Speaking of SFXs, we get to see some Poulterghoosts layered over the footage and it’s a very fun addition to the episode for the codpiece face joke alone. We then see an EXTREMELY chaotic and extremely funny scene on the neighbour’s telly that is a spoof of a famous UK advert about bicycles. The quote “Think Once, Think Twice” is directly taken from the advert and the cinematography for it is actually very spot on to the original! And speaking of the random cutaways, “The Madman” bit is definitely my favourite in the entire series, just because Steve Dixon’s performance still gives me the good kind of chills. His laugh is so perfectly villainous, and everything about it is just so pointlessly chaotic. “You won’t catch me with mee trousers!”

Boomshanka, and the entirety of Neil’s letter to his bank manager come from this episode! And I KNOW you know the entirety of that letter by memory right now… We all know it. This, and Rick’s commentary on eating ear wax is EXACTLY what I meant about this episode just having a multitude of quotable moments. Other great examples include… the entire scene about Vyvyan being pregnant: “I’M GOING TO HAVE A BABY.” “How… How did it happen?” “Didn’t your parents ever tell you about the birds and the bees?” “What if the bird got stung halfway through? Ostriches are really big.” “AH! AH! The contractions have started!” “Vyvyan’s baby will be a pauper! Oliver Twist!” Who even thought of this joke?! It is just so insanely ridiculous to have a pregnant Vyv. Obviously he isn’t, but the fact that Vyv just pulled these bollocks out of his bottom is ridiculously stupid. We’re all definitely still here for it. I mean, we sat there for a fart joke with the neighbour earlier. And… SPOILER ALERT! The whole baby bit is another big joke on passing wind. This show is TRULY for a mature audience. ;)

There’s a bit where Vyvyan curses God (played by DJ Alan Freeman) and we actually get to see what God in The Young Ones universe looks like! He shows up again in Summer Holiday, but Cash was his first appearance. This God is suave and always throwing the best comebacks, so I wouldn’t be surprised if this God was Mike’s biological father. Next up, Mike proceeds to use the super powers his God dad gave him, and calls out for a newspaper, which arrives on cue out of the blue. They look at the very blank list of job adverts, and the only position available seems to have Rick’s lisp: “Join the Profeshionels.” Everyone backs out of applying, and force Neil into taking the job. (Vyv’s excuse being pregnant, of course.) But the way Rick replies to joining the army: “Ahm, well, M’yes, no, mnyeah…” became my catchphrase to complain about stuff as well.

And then the episode gifts us with an exasperated Rick smoking 6 cigarettes and AT LONG LAST, the fabulous Neil with a suit two sizes too-small and his new choppy hairdo.

With a clean-looking Neil, the boys step out of the house to go get that “Profeshionels.” to the beat of this episode’s musical guest; Ken Bishop’s Nice Twelve. I am super in love with the quick edit cuts they used in this scene, because it perfectly fits the song as well as the exasperation the characters are probably feeling. If you’ve ever been poor and living day to day, you’d understand this feeling too.

Neil ignores SPGs advice of not telling the Army officers that he was a pacifist, so he then gets shoved into joining the police force because THEY WILL LITERALLY TAKE ANYONE. Now, this wouldn’t be alternative comedy and Alexei Sayle’s skit if it didn’t include social commentary on the pigs– I mean, the police force. If they take anyone into the force and the only job qualification is to know how to make that “Khjjjj” sound for when talking on the radio… then what does that say about the policemen out there guarding our streets? Neil is so aware of the corruption that he even announces himself with; “Open up! It’s the pigs.” when going to investigate his friend’s house. It’s simple jokes that, unfortunately, are still relevant today. Alexei’s performance here is super cute and memorable; definitely one of my favourites. His Benito Mussolini-look-alike character’s got great energy, and it turns out he’s a contestant for the Eurovision doing all these funny noises. His routine is so compelling that I find myself doing these funny noises when in a good mood.

The episode’s final gag is Mike telling Rick he’s got everything under control, to which Rick replies that if Mike’s got it all sorted, then; “A massive, rear-articulated lorry loaded with money and food and everything they need [will] come smashing through the window…” and so that’s exactly what happens. They are rich enough to give out “... a large sum of money.” as a tip for their service helpers now. So much money, that Vyv can eat Caviar with a ridiculous amount of ketchup. So much cash, that Neil doesn’t even recognise the inside of the house. So he thinks that the boys have become furniture thiefs, and complying with his new job, he decides to do something about it. And yet another quotable quote arises after Neil ask the boys to come with him quietly. “No, we’re going to come very noisily.” followed by tuneless wailing.

So finally, Vyvyan’s baby sees the light of day as a massive fart and… Mike celebrates by lighting up a cigar on Vyvyan’s lips, exploding the entire house yet again.

And that’s it… credits roll and the boys stare at the burning house in awe. Very typical way of ending the episode if you ask me. Okay… I am honestly finding it very difficult to spot any negatives in this episode as I rewatch it for the review, and I think that’s definitely a plus! I suppose fart jokes are a bit childish, but some people seem to enjoy toilet humour so this bizarre episode will please their folly just fine! ANYWAYS! I don’t think this episode is regarded as one of the top ones, but I really love it and it’s definitely one of the most quotable one amongst fans! And that’s saying something. Now go on, and may the seed of your loin be fruitful in the belly of your woman.

[darkacademicfrom2021]

Flufftober - Day 5

5 - Watching the Sunrise

Written for @flufftober2021 's event.

Pairing: Loki x GN!reader

Word count: 1,9K

Tags: honestly this is pretty filthy. Not exactly smut but very close. Painter!reader.

Summary: You need to study anatomy for your paintings, but nobody seems to be willing to pose naked for hours in front of you. Except, perhaps, one particularly mischevious God.

“What’s the problem, darling?”, asked Loki, jumping to the couch and joining the conversation. You seemed to be drowning on that whisky glass, tired of thinking of a solution, about to fail yet again one of those damned assignments.

“But, don’t you have like… special people to do those? In the academy?”, asked Wanda while ignoring Loki completely. He furrowed his brows and Bucky explained to him,

“Y/N failed a test because they got the anatomy all wrong. It was a very nice painting, though. I loved the work you did with the lights”, he complimented, and you huffed out in frustration.

“The main thing of that assignment was anatomy, and especially musculature. Nobody in the academy has been… how to put this in the right words? Muscly enough? For me to fully understand the complexity of the muscles. It’s not that they’re not gorgeous, it’s just that they’re not the kind of body I need to draw to understand this assignment”, you explained the best you could.

“Why don’t you try with someone you know? You know who’s pretty ripped? About anyone on this compound. Who are you looking for, male or female?”, asked Bucky, and you felt the hotness already going up to your face.

“I couldn’t. No, I can’t”, you denied with your head and laughed uncomfortably.

“Why not?”.

“It’s… it has to be a nude painting. It’s a condition”.

“Oh”.

The whole friend group fell to silence, knowing it’d be impossible to get surely naked anyone on this compound for the assignment, and you wouldn’t be comfortable either, having a nude painting of one of your friends or co-workers.

“Paint me”, blurted out Loki.

“What?”, said the three of you at the same time.

“Paint me. I have a terrific body, my muscles are certainly very well defined”, he said, modesty apart —although you were sure he was completely right; he was a God, after all, and his muscles could be seen even under his big leather suits—. “Paint me and you’ll have a good study subject”.

You laughed.

“I appreciate it, but I can’t actually see you naked. I’d make it weird”, you explained, trying to omit the part of ‘and it’d be extremely hard for me to not rip my skin off out of heat if I ever see you nude and spread out for me to paint’ and trying to come up with a better excuse. “And it would be just plainly inappropriate, since we’re friends, and co-workers, and I can’t have lying around a nude Loki in my classroom, people would freak out”.

“A masterpiece, we could say”, he said. “I’m a prince. I’ve been painted before, it won’t make a difference for me”.

“Have you been painted naked before?”.

“I mean… sure. For courtship and royal stuff”, he lied. But he knew he wasn’t the only one lying —there was another reason you wouldn’t paint him and he wanted to find out which was it so he could get completely rid of it. Truth be told, he was looking very forward to having your pretty face flustered for hours, staring at his naked body and memorizing every part of him, meticulously, inch by inch. He knew you took your artworks very seriously, and he loved the idea of having you like that over him. “Haven’t you painted nudes before?”.

“Yeah, of myself”, you scoffed, and as you saw the huge grin of your three best friends you widely opened your eyes and tried to take it back, before they searched the whole compound for them “I burned them as soon as I passed the tests! You won’t find them!”.

“You can paint yourself like that? What, you use a mirror or something?”, asked Bucky.

“And how do you deal with the moving stuff? Like, if you need to stay still for the painting, you can’t move your arms to actually paint”, said Wanda. The only one who didn’t seem to want to express his thoughts about it out loud was Loki.

“Listen, I only do it when I’m completely sure I couldn’t ask anyone about it. It for weird positions and stuff”, you added and it only made it worse.

“What do you mean weird positions?? You naughty little shit!”, laughed Wanda.

“Have you ever drawn straight up porn? That would be hilarious”, said Bucky. “Porn these days is very… strange”.

“Loki? Any input on my habit of painting my own nudes?”, you asked sarcastically. “I usually enjoy your silence, but in this case I think it means you’re plotting against me, and I have to ask”.

“Oh, darling”, he said in the lowest voice he could muster. “You just unlocked a whole new kink for me”.

The room became silent. As silent as it has ever been. Your face, completely red and flustered, could not hide from Loki’s gaze. Wanda and Bucky stared at the two of you with their jaws on the floor, grin tattooed on their cheeks by now.

“I… do, you… I… you, I what?”, you stuttered, and quickly tried to compose yourself. He was joking, he was joking, he was joking, you told yourself countless times so that the heat would go off at some point. Dear, was he doing things to you.

“Anyway”, he sighed out, and got up from the couch with your glass of whiskey in hand, refilling it and giving it back to you. “Think about it. If you find yourself in moments of… desperation, let’s say, you can always have my naked ass to save you”, he smirked.

“I… right, I’ll keep it in mind”, you stuttered, without making eye contact.

“Are we still talking about the painting?”, whispered Wanda, and Bucky snorted.

That same night you spend it painting after painting, trying to master your abilities by any other means than having a model to follow. You tried googling images, but they weren’t specific enough; you needed the person to move around so you could understand the mobility of the muscles. You then decided to sacrifice some of the specificity of the muscles and started with the mirror technique once again. You stripped yourself and painted in front of the body-length mirror, touching your skin from time to time to feel the muscles that wouldn’t show at sight. But it wasn’t enough, you needed a model.

Almost as if he were hearing your thoughts and needed to make a dramatic entrance, Loki knocks at your door. It was about three in the morning, and you knew it was him by just the way he knocked. It resembled a rapid heartbeat, which was ironic, because that’s exactly what your heart did once you saw him.

You got dressed and forgot to hide the paintings before opening the door. But that seemed to be the least of your problems, because now there was a bare-chest Loki in no more than a pair of leather trousers and his hair messily arranged in a low man bun.

He looked down at you —and you felt tinier than ever—, and smirked. The intensity plastered in his eyes, as always, but this time the gaze burned. It perforated through you and your legs were about to give up on you just by the way he was staring at you.

He walked in and sat on the bed, glancing at the paintings you forgot to hide. His smirk was still there, and his eyes roamed around both the paintings and your —now covered— body.

“Why do you hide under those clothes if this is what you have, darling?”, he whispered, and your face got redder and hotter —if that was possible at all.

“What are you doing?”, you blurted out, still from the door.

“Please. You’ve been painting yourself naked all night long and still look extremely frustrated. You’ll deny me now how much you need me?”.

You couldn’t say it. You couldn’t say you needed him, it was too much. The right thing for you to do at that moment was to cover your eyes —stop staring at his so well defined upper body—, make him go away and probably avoid him for the next hundred days. You couldn’t accept this because your innocent crush on his would definitely crush you in the ribs.

“I don’t. Please, go away”, you whispered unconvincingly.

“If you truly want it I’m out, pet. But…”, he got up from the bed and walked slowly to you. You held your breath and he suddenly was mere inches away from you. “Say the word and I’ll let you paint me however you like”.

You wished you could have enough self control to ask him to leave and keep on trying to find other ways to learn the anatomy, but you knew this wasn’t about learning anymore.

“Fine”, you whispered. “But… are you sure it won’t make it weird between us?”.

“At most it could bring us closer”, he smiled.

What does that even mean?

You said yes. In a matter of minutes you were already sketching him with the trembliest brush you’ve ever held —or perhaps it was your hand. Loki tried different positions, all of them in which you could’ve sworn he was flexing —yet he wasn’t, because when you asked him to do so, his arms grew bigger and his abdomen became even more marked. You finally agreed on one where he had his legs dominantly open over the bed, sitting with one arm crossed and the other one over his thigh. You tried your best to focus on the work itself and its forgettable purpose, rather than on his godly body and your growing crush on him —oh he could crush you with those biceps and you’d thank him—no, wait, the work.

You finally finished the upper part of the painting, and you fell into the terrible realization that it was a nude painting. Not a half-nude painting, not an upper body painting, not even a half-stripped-God-over-my-bed painting. It was a truly nude painting and he had his leather trousers still on. You took in a sharp breath and said, trying your best to not sound all the hot you already were,

“I’m gonna need you to… drop the pants”.

Loki smirks from his position, and teases,

“You need it, pet?”.

You blushed even brighter and he laughed.

“Come on”.

“Alright, sorry”, he said, as he started to unbutton it painfully slowly. You looked away in embarrassment, and turned your head to the window. A few sun rays had started to appear over the buildings —your room was in one of the highest rooms of the Stark Tower—, and he said, ��it seems we’ve been here longer than it felt”.

You walked towards the window and felt him walk right behind you. You wanted to peep in to see if he had his trousers on or not, but didn’t. Only realized when he hugged you from behind, locking his arms around your waist and you felt the cold leather on your calves. He rested his chin on your head, and you leaned back on him, feeling his heartbeat on your back. It was just like the knocks on the door—just like you felt when you saw him.

You watched the sun settle bright and tall in the sky, welcoming a new day. Yet the painting was unfinished. After twenty minutes, Loki kissed the nape of your neck and moved away. You ignored the shivers that ran through your spine, and turned around.

“Well, very pretty”, you said, and he smirked. “Now, drop the pants, Mischief”.

(Taglist: @lucywrites02 , @louieboo87 @the-departed-potato , @jesuswasnotawhiteman , @idontknow296 , @beksib , @spythoschei , @geekwritersworld , @whatafuckingdumbass , @mysticunicorn7 @shadowolf993 , @joscelyn02 , @t00-pi , @selfship-mishaps , @sallymagnoliaposts , @deadgirl88 , @theonewiththenerds , @vicmc624 , @spiderlaufeyson @theaudacitytowrite )

[kuroopaisen]

brat || gojou satoru

➵ gojou wants you to pay attention to him. and no, he doesn’t care about how annoying he’s being. 

wc: 2k

warnings: gn!reader, gojou is Annoying, mild spoilers i guess? 

a/n: hi welcome to my gojou brainrot i would like to escape and yet i cannot,,, will i deliver more mindless fanfic? who knows! 

You sigh, turning the page of your book with an exhausted kind of resignation. Had you even comprehended what’s in the last paragraph? Or had you just let your eyes gloss over it, admiring the shape of the letters without actually taking any of them in?

Reading a book isn’t so difficult under normal circumstances; sure, you’ve got your own concentration to wrestle with, but that’s an (occasionally) tameable beast.

The man sprawled on the couch next to you, however, is not.

“Are you done yet?” Gojou hums, sticking his legs straight up in the air.

“I’ll be done sooner if you shut up,” you mumble, starting from the top of the page for what feels like the thirty-second time in the past five minutes.

Gojou’s not handling the boredom well. He’s spent the past five minutes cycling between humming Danse Macabre in an octave too high to be comfortable while swinging his legs in circles and poking your cheek as he crouches next to you on his knees.

“You’re the one who said I could come over,” he chirps, completely unfazed by your words.

“I never said that,” you mumble.

It’s not a lie. Earlier today, Gojou’d asked if you were going out tonight. You’d said no. He’d decided to take that as permission to crash at your place.

Although the onus is at least a little on you; he has a habit of doing things like this. You’ve got to be one step ahead of him if you want to win against him on a petty debate like that.

A head of white hair wriggles its way onto your lap.

“Satoru?”

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m bored,” he hums.

That much is obvious. But you know it’s not that simple; he’s bored, yes, but more importantly, he wants your attention. Even your chest flutters at that.

“You’re a grown man,” you smile. “Entertain yourself.”

A well-worn coquettish smile plays on his lips. “I can’t tell if you’re being lewd or not.”

You slap his chest.

“Ow!” He gasps, placing a hand over his heart. “I can’t believe you’d be so cruel to me!”

“Then stop being annoying.”

“I’d like to think I’m ‘charmingly playful’.”

“Do you take constructive criticism?” You tilt your head at him, biting back a smile.

“I would,” he muses, “if I weren’t already perfect.”

“That ego of yours is going to get you into serious trouble one day,” you grin, flicking his forehead gently.

He lets you, grinning back. “Ah, but you see, my dear,” he hums, grabbing your hand before you draw it away and lacing your fingers with his. It’s a bit of an awkward angle, but you don’t mind.

“I’m simply stating the truth.”

“Well, the truth hurts,” you mutter, “so it’s no surprise no-one wants to hear you gassing yourself up.”

Gojou laughs. His hair tickles your inner thighs and you’re almost convinced to give in. But it wouldn’t be good form to feed his ego after chiding him for it.

You’re well-aware his ego’s already gotten him in trouble – many times, in fact. But Gojou seems to have a way of wheedling his way out of anything.

And, of course, you know that his ego doesn’t come from nowhere.

Doesn’t stop it from being annoying, though. The fact it’s at least partially well-founded makes it worse.

You take a deep breath, turning your attention back to this blasted book. Gojou will just have to wait.

“Why are you even reading that brick?” He muses, tapping the bottom of the book’s spine with one long finger. “You look bored out of your mind. And, you’ve been on the same page for the past five minutes.”

“You know,” you tilt your head to the side, a sour look on your face. “‘Adult stuff.’ Upskilling and all that.”

“Ah,” Gojou grins. “Career work.”

“Mhm,” you sigh. “And some of us can’t just learn on the job.”

Although, you ponder, the thought blurred with gentle melancholy, some of us aren’t constantly risking our lives.

Gojou always tells you not to worry; he’s the strongest jujutsu sorcerer there is, after all. But even that’s not enough to lull you into an uneasy sleep, to bring you warmth when your bed is cold.

You’re never truly at ease until you feel him slip into your bed in the early hours of the morning, his arms slinking around your waist and pulling you towards him. It’s like clockwork how he buries his head in your shoulder as every muscle in his body relaxes. He always thinks you’re asleep – and honestly, it’s easier to let him keep believing that.

What you’ve got isn’t exactly a ‘relationship’. At least, not in the most traditional sense of the word. Gojou’s never pretended to offer you that. But it’s not so simple as a ‘friends-with-benefits’ arrangement.

Gojou Satoru doesn’t suit the domestic. But he relishes in it, the same way a child might enjoy playing at high tea with little plastic teacups and cupcakes made of playdough. Some might find this frustrating – the idea of existing in this grey, a dark, nebulous unknown stippled with moments of affection and vulnerability.

But there’s still comfort in it; a sense of understanding, a place to let loose and relax. Being part of this world is hard. It’s so cruel – sending children out to fight things they barely comprehend, letting them suffer and even die. And what do they have to show for it? A future of doing the same thing while also having to navigate just how shit the world of sorcerers truly is?

Why aren’t more of your colleagues angry about this? One counsellor isn’t enough to maintain the wellbeing of these children. Do the higher-ups even care? Well, you know the answer to that question – it’s enough to make you want to throttle each and every one of them—

“Hey.”

You clatter back to earth, met by a pair of electric blue eyes. It’s easy to forget just how striking they are; it’s like they can stare right into your very core, laying out secrets you never even knew you had.

“Hm?” You blink at him. You can’t risk him knowing you’re worried. He doesn’t stand for that sort of thing; he’ll just tease you for being concerned about him. Though, you’re well-aware that he enjoys being doted on.

“You’re spacing out,” he smiles. “Again.”

Sure, he sounds like he’s joking. But even he can’t disguise that little flash in his eyes, the slight tension in his face. It’s the same expression he has when he talks about that new student of his.

Gojou understands you better than you’d like. Every little tell, every tiny hint towards what you’re actually thinking. It’s near impossible to hide anything from him; it’s irritating, really.

But, at least he’s got the decency to leave the direction of the conversation in your hands.

You weigh it for a moment, deciding how exactly to respond. Should you play it off and throw his brattiness back in his face? Or should you pry open that conversation like the doors of an old temple?

Today’s not the day. Neither of you are ready for that.

You stick your tongue out at him. Perhaps it’s not how an adult should behave, but you don’t care. Neither does Gojou.

“I think,” he sighs, plucking the book out of your hands and tossing it across the room, “it’s time you took a break.”

You yelp a moment too late, watching your book slap against the wall and flop to the floor. It’s only a paperback – thank God – but you’re not ready to fix another dent in the wall caused by the force of mayhem known as Gojou Satoru.

“And I have been waiting long enough,” he grins, wrapping his arms around your neck and launching forward.

“Satoru—”

It’s too late. He’s got you pinned beneath him – and not in a sexy way. All six feet and three inches of him is laid flat on top of you, your face smothered by his chest.

You punch his side weakly.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he laughs.

“Fine,” you try to say. All you get is a mouthful of Gojou’s shirt. You slip your hands up said shirt and tickle his sides.

“Hey, hey, hey—” He splutters, grabbing at your wrists.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” You smirk, continuing your assault.

Gojou whines, propping himself up by his palms and arching his back like a cat in an attempt to shake you off.

“Get back here,” you grin, lifting your torso in response.

His arms are immediately wrapped around you, pinning your own arms to your sides. You yelp in surprise, finding yourself laid gently against the couch with your face pressed against his neck.

“Much better,” Gojou chuckles, still on top of you as he nestles his head into your shoulder.

It’s not the most comfortable position, but that’s rarely a priority when it comes to Gojou. You wouldn’t be surprised if this wasn’t just his way of goading you into relocating to your bed for ease of cuddling (although you have your doubts that it’s the only thing on his mind).

“You want attention that bad, huh?” You chuckle, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck.

“Mhm,” he smirks, bringing his head up to get a proper look at you. “I’m a busy man, you know. I don’t think you’re appreciating my free time enough.”

“And yet, you never seem to leave my damn house,” you muse. “I’m starting to think you don’t actually have a job.”

Gojou laughs, leaning down and kissing you properly.

“That’s not an answer,” you say against his lips.

He ignores you, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You sigh, conceding. His lips are so soft yet so persistent, somehow both desperate and playful. He’s aggravatingly good at this sort of thing – before Gojou, you didn’t really understand what it meant to be a ‘good kisser’. But of course, he manages to excel at this, too. And annoyingly enough, he’d been right to brag about it.  

He brings one hand up to cup your cheek and moves another down to your waist. It’s a surprisingly chaste move for him, but you don’t mind. You tangle your own hands in his hair, resisting the urge to tug it. If you do that, you’ll officially lose any chance of getting more reading done tonight. Although your ability to focus on anything other than him is waning quickly.

When Gojou pulls back, he’s got that look in his eyes. The one that always makes your cheeks flush, makes your heart feel a little lighter. The one that almost makes you say something stupid.

Thank God you always have your wits about you.

“You get five minutes,” you sigh. “And then you’ve got to let me finish the chapter I’m on, okay? Then I’m all yours.”

Gojou’s grin blossoms with delight.

He slots himself beneath your chin and rests his cheek against your chest. A hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You smile, propping your chin on the top of his head and wrapping your arms around him.

Despite all his big talk, his irksome demeanour, even his obnoxious height, Gojou Satoru loves to be held.

You always oblige. He never asks – that’s too close to admitting weakness.

But you understand. He needs this. Sometimes he just wants to be tended to.

Being let in like this is an honour. He’s letting you be part of his life, despite his grand plans. Plans that, when he’d told you them, shifted your whole understanding of him.

Gojou represents change.

You have to have faith in him. You have to believe he’ll make good on his promises and turn the sorcerer world on its head. It’s no easy burden; and despite what he claims, even he falters in the face of something so monumental.

But despite all that, he’s still him. He hasn’t let the weight of his goals crush him; at least, not entirely. He finds the little joys, indulges in mundane delights, sees the humour in things.

Gojou Satoru wants to change the world, but he still lets himself be a part of it.

Perhaps that’s why it’s so easy to love him.

Even if he can’t offer the stability and promise of a stable relationship.

Even if he’s a little brat.

[semischarmed]

Truth

There he was. Lucas, in deep sleep. His snores fill the bedroom, barely lit by moonlight. The night was hot, and humid air envelops you both. Sweet, sweet Lucas- probably one of your nicest friends. Just a bit introspective, but you somewhat admired that in him. He was cute, sure, but he also exuded a beauty, a handsomeness that eclipsed many others. The way his eyes glistened intently whenever you held a conversation with him. They way his brows furrowed and gaze look into the distance whenever he was in deep thought. The way just the slightest folds on the corners of his eyes appeared whenever he smiled. The man was truly genuine, and whenever you two conversed he made sure you were the only thing that mattered in the world. Of course, who could forget that laugh. A quiet confidence and a mature self-acceptance brought to life with a bit of playful, youthful vibrancy. Truly everything that was this man, everything that was your Lucas was pinnacle, in your eyes. There would no other person in the world for you beyond him.

And in this most intimate of places, you see a side of him previously unseen. Damn those muscles. You knew he was relatively fit, but unhindered by his normal choice of clothing, they were massive. You note the delicate craftsmanship, the hills and valleys glistening, almost glowing in the moonlight. This man, who had trusted you enough to give you spare keys to his home, this man you had been yearning for years in secret was almost yours. A relationship, a friendship? No, one could not settle for just that. You would not be content until your every moment and his aligned. Pure, complete becoming. Lucas was your destiny.

With palms sweaty in anticipation, you chant the ancient words- spoken in long-dead tongues, invoking long-dead gods at your behest. These words did not come cheap. They were manifest from years of research and vast sums of wealth. Neither of which truly mattered anymore though, for what price could possibly ever match to perfection? The spell is near-complete, yet Lucas still slumbers.

Amidst the humid air and the warmth enveloping you both, there was on odd coldness. A coldness you could feel in your soul. Brisk, ancient, prickling sensations. Magic.The spell you were casting, despite being surely off-pronunciation was working. As you had found out magic, was 99% intent anyways, and you were single-track in this endeavor. You increase the speed of your speech in anticipation. ‘Oh Lucas… babe…just wait…almost there….’ 

“…sanguiniu- “ You cut yourself off by the sight before you. The spell was broken slightly but you can’t help but stare hungrily. 

In the entrance to the moist cavern of his mouth, you catch sight of his tongue- fleshy, thick, enveloped in a film of his saliva. Damn. It was teasing you, just hanging out there in the night air. With every rise and fall of his chest, it slowly followed suit, gently bobbing, slowly pulling you forward. 

You bite your lip when you notice a bit of drool pool on the corner of his mouth. He smiles a bit. Must have been a good dream. ‘Ugh. Even sleeping sloppy he was so cute.’ 

As you walk up to him, warm gusts of air gently caress your face, encircling and filling into your nostrils. This wasn’t just air. It was Lucas’ air- soon to be your air, beckoning it’s new owner in. And it smelled nice.  There was a pleasant muskiness about it. The spell wasn’t complete, but what’s the harm in a brief pause? You wouldn’t ever get a chance to experience Lucas like this anyway, at least not after you complete the incantation.

You lean closer to his mouth. “Should I….?” You gently wrap your lips around his tongue, pulling it into a fleshy envelope and begin sucking on it gently. ‘Ugh… sweet, Sweet Lucas. God, he even tasted delicious. As you feel his fleshy pink mass in your mouth, you can’t help but smile siphon a bit of him, a bit of his taste.

When you draw some of Lucas’ saliva into yourself, you near-faint in bliss. Fuck. You shiver uncontrollably at the notion of having a piece of Lucas inside you. This was everything. The flavor was unreal, much like his scent, it had earthy if somewhat salty notes but the muskiness, the raw testosterone in it was far more pronounced. It was an injection of pure Lucas inside yourself. You couldn’t help but suck just a bit more him in. 

The mouth surrounding that tongue was your entrance to the future, to your true self. Goddamn inviting. You even cum a little as you continue drawing more and more of Lucas and smash your head towards his open maw. “Mmmmm” you moan from your chest and throat, when he begins following suit, plump lips drawing over yours, bringing you closer as well. It purely instinctual on his end- didn’t fucking matter. All that rang true to you, all that mattered was that his reflexes, his body at that moment wanted you.

Lucas gags a little, breaking his unconscious silence as he inadvertently draws more and more of you into him. You relish in the moment, in the binding of your tongue to his, in the suction you feel emanating from his tongue. In your eyes, this was what his body wanted. what Lucas wanted. Of course it was. Your true place, your rightful place in this world was being a part of the Lucas experience, was being in him, was living as him. The corners of his lips turn into a more pronounced frown. His breathing hastens and in your intimate position, you steal each of these breaths into yourself. He awakes to the sight of his good friend uncomfortably close over his body. Impossibly close, in fact, and locked in orgasmic bliss. You sneer continue with your odd “kiss”. It was passionate, sloppy- at least from your end. Locked in ecstasy, you pay little mind to his attempts to pull you away. You’re not fucking letting go though, and maintain yourself lock on his tongue. This “kiss” was exactly how you’d always imagined it to be, only far more visceral, more raw. Imagination could only take you so far, after all. Heat exudes his chest and you greedily push your body stuck to his. A soft, slick sound is heard when both your chests stick together, sweat mixing. In his panicked breaths, you feel powerful lungs draw in and expand into you, squishing more of his skin over yours. Goddamn you can’t wait for it to be you using those lungs, flaunting those muscles, speaking through that mouth with that tongue. You can’t wait to make those vocal cords yours, to make them utter phrases they’ve never had to.

You smile as the magic begins to do its work. Tongues are drawn together, drawn to be one, and your face starts to squish into him. In his eyes he can only see yours sparkle in lust. You moan further. “Tho close. We’re almoth there Lucath….almoth uth…almoth one” you half mumble in slurred movements. 

Then, you feel it. Lucas’ tongue. The persistent suction drawing you into him. The nerves of his tongue tasting and feeling yours. ‘This is it. One last push further.’ You muse. You start moaning louder as he tries in vain to push you out, but you’re already melded to him- your skin and meat and bones already liquefying and condensing into a mass onto his tongue. He can feel it too. Pure Treachery. You begin to finish out the words of the spell. Now intimately, physically connected, Lucas is forced to repeat the words with you. The spell is complete. Of course, intent had been muddled by the now-awake Lucas, and words slipped and slid around your conjoined tongue. Didn’t matter, apparently, as you still felt the air become heavy with ancient briskness and enclose around you two. In a slosh, your entire form pushes into his tongue enveloping it. The pressure in the air is now crushing, and you feel yourself crumple, congeal, and consolidate into his tongue. In that pressure, you felt yourself born anew, bound, a part of Lucas. Finally, to be one. 

Lucas wakes in a cold sweat, shivering despite the warm night air. His tongue dangles off to the side of his open mouth. “Weird” he states, before pulling it back in. “What a fucking dream” he states before gently dozing back off to sleep. 

So, that spell was a bit of letdown. In the afterglow of the event, you soon realize the mistake made in clouded judgement. Rites, ancient languages and their intricacies. You never quite gotten that intent correct. You realize your mistake in your new form. You try to move, only to realize that while you were indeed a part of Lucas, only his tongue dangles slightly. 

Still being his tongue was not all bad. You are a now fully a part of him after all, so you feel yourself swell in pride at being a part of this handsome man. Besides, as a tongue, taste was all amplified. When Lucas had later awoken and eaten that first breakfast, it was near-orgasmic. What would have been a fairly simple breakfast was nothing short of divine. Even something as simple as toast- from his mouth that initial first crunch, the particles that first fell on you, the short, roasted crumbs with an almost decadent caramel tone- it was all too much to handle. Bread never tasted like this. The coffee he drank was even better. It was bitter, like all coffee, but it was a deep, rich bitterness, swirled through an undeniable nuttiness and the mild thick sweetness of the cream. Of course, as his tongue you could move slightly. You used this tiny bit of control you had to make sure every crunch, every slurp mattered. Lucas noticed his tongue move almost of its own volition, effortlessly gliding over each bite, rubbing over every ridge, showing its master the joy in the mundane. It would be his slowest and most delicious breakfast to date. Every bite and every lick its own coordinated effort. One hundred percent Lucas, one hundred percent you. Something as mundane as breakfast became a synchronized dance between you two. There would be no one closer to him than this. To top it all off, you got to be where you wanted afterward- in Lucas. It was like a warm, wet embrace in his body’s own little way. 

Though frankly, his taste in food could use some work. Those fucking protein shakes. Goddamn you swear the man drinks one for every meal. Vile, chalky, tasteless liquids that he forces you to swallow. If you still had a throat, you’d gag every time. Of course you cannot and are forced to take it, forced to move however his nerves direct.

For now, this would be fine, because when he wasn’t eating that very same flavor, that very same essence of Lucas that you crave enveloped you perpetually. It’s like the “kiss” from that night, he’s unwittingly got you locked in one with him for eternity. 

— 

Living as his tongue for the past few weeks has been amazing, but you can’t help but wonder about what could have been. You’ve since been accustomed to eating the same meals he did, to working as his tongue and have even gotten a bit more autonomy. Still, this was his body and he was the boss and it readily pushed a command that you could not disobey. 

You actually felt yourself a little larger of a presence in him, though you still couldn’t quite grasp why.

Today, Lucas was out walking with his friend. Mark. Lucas would always be first in your mind, but Mark was a close second. Your mind wanders, brewing lustful, sinful thoughts about Mark. As you squirm inside Lucas, something changes. There was something else beyond just his tongue. You firmly take it into yourself, before continuing in your Mark-filled stream. Without warning, Lucas goes up to his dear friend for a quick lick. 

“Hey sexy”

It’s barely audible, but unquestionably there. No one dare say another word in tense air.

“Handsssomeee…” 

The word slices through the tension clean. As a part of him, you feel warmth bloom inside Lucas. His face is bright red. 

Mark calls Luke’s bluff. “Haha bro… you really into me like that?” You feel Lucas’ throat close up. “N-no dude, er-it’s not like that” he replies meekly.

Mark takes the compliment in stride though, jokingly giving Lucas a wink, and playfully punching his shoulder. “Whatever bro, if you’re gonna stand there oogling, at least pay for my dinner” he laughs. In that brief moment of vulnerability, you flash just the lightest bit of control over that very same shoulder he punched. Addicting. The second taste of Lucas’ body. Lucas reacts to the muscle spasm by shivering slightly and wiping the punch off. “Haha, Fuck you too Mark” he laughs before absentmindedly licking his lips. By this point, you can barely pay attention to the outside world.

Because inside Lucas, inside the future you, acquisition. Ecstasy. For at this moment, you now felt his lungs-those lungs-your. lungs. You now felt his throat, his voice. In every breath he draws, you loan him back control, but it’s truly yours. You feel yourself expand and contract in slow, rhythmic motions. You feel the muscles surrounding them, and his warm heart pumping inside you. You feel yourself vibrate as he contorts you to form his sentences. It was divine. You start to chuckle, which results in the Lucas of the outer world choking slightly mid-sentence. Unfinished spells and unfinished magic were quite unpredictable but slowly, surely, the spell did its work. ’So that’s how it is.’ 

A few days later, a few days of your presence and you have even better hold over his voice. You relish in your control. The way his voice feels reverberating and rolling off you. Like sweet honey leaking out of the man of your dreams. On some nights, in his deepest sleep, you whisper sweet nothings to yourself, making Lucas beg you to possess him fully. “Pleeeease… take me… all of me…”

His unconscious body winces, grabs at air, pull at sheets, and writhes in pleasure as you make him say this. You shared a body after all, excess lust, excess hormones- they had to be going somewhere.

—

On this particular day, Lucas had been pumping iron with another of his friends. Andre always looked fucking hot, so you figured this would be as good of an opportunity as any.

You bring yourself to Andre’s neck, dragging your tongue around the bump of his Adam’s apple, circling the pronounced veins running across the sides. Hmmm. Salty.

You focus your words, your feelings into one- a phrase to unlock your freedom. Words reverberate through Lucas’ very core. You are his tongue, so you feel his nerves yield, his receptors, his very body yours.

“R-r-ravage me, Andre- Ravage this body. Show me what those guns can do- let me feel them, let me feel you. Lukey’s feeling lonely… I have a you-shaped hole ripe for the-“ Andre tries to repeat the perverted words coming out of his friend’s mouth, tries to digest them, to process what the fuck just happened. 

“H-Hey- Dude! What the fuck was that for!?” Andre asked in shock. Shaking Lucas’ shoulders. He looked genuinely hurt. But Lucas was lost in lust. He was different. He was moaning. “F-FUCK yeah. You taste delicious. Did I ever tell you that bro?” He spoke perversely. His words and thoughts tainted, clouded by your lust. You liked him better this way. He breaks from his spell.

“Oh God- I- Fuck! Sorry! I’m so fucking sorry! I don’t know what that was. A-Andre? You ok?  A teary Lucas asked his friend. 

“Yeah dude.. whatever. Just please..um.. never do it again” He grimaced. 

Since you were a part of Lucas, you felt fear rush through his bones. He sucks his hanging tongue back in- a recently-acquired, disturbing habit he seems to have picked up from nowhere. He was terrified. Not just in his body, his voice moving on its own. He was terrified because he liked it. Terrified that he was becoming something else, something perverse. In truth, he really was. In your soul you could tell that Lucas was almost ready, because the endorphins, the testosterone, hormones you were pumping him chock-full with with had not dissipated. It was exhilarating. Fear. Lust. Ecstasy. These pervaded inside him, emotions mixing and swirling with yours. You could feel him try to fend off raw desire and a raging hard-on while he tried to sincerely comfort his friend. Fuck it feels amazing being a part of him. The man liked to keep his emotions in check but he was slipping. You were like a poison to him, slowly infecting his very self. Or perhaps, you were his antidote, the catalyst needed for both you to become your true selves. In this very moment though, you were simply content in just being a part of him. Content to just ride the invisible passenger. Content to feel the rush of his emotions as your own. The best part in all this? Lucas was continually shifting while he talked to Andre, trying to hide the intense desire to be used, experienced, felt. Because of you, he was getting off on all this. 

Shame riddled Lucas while you continued to worm and entrench yourself in him. That didn’t stop you two from masturbating to the thought of dragging that hot tongue all over Andre’s bod.

———

It’s been a few weeks now, and the corruption of Lucas was near-complete. Your Lucas was near-complete.

Every morning, he catches himself checking his face out in the mirror, sticking his tongue out, making seductive motions. “-fffFuck yeahhh” you both say. Like clockwork he soon shakes himself lucid, disturbed and goes about his day. Increasingly, you’ve been moaning with him, flooding him with your endorphins in response, rewarding his body for its increasingly deviant nature. These sessions have only gotten longer and more frequent. In a sense, his body began to crave it- to crave you. The more he uses that tongue, the more you rile up in being used- the further and deeper he becomes yours. 

Armed with this knowledge, you throw your lust into overdrive, driving him mad. His eyes are perpetually dilated, blood perpetually rushing, and he his lip quivers often in bursts of pleasure. His friends notice the slight change too, when your future body stiffens to their touch. Really, it’s just Lucas trying to stop himself, his impulses from guiding him from going all over them. Your soon-to-be friends probably noticed his propensity-your propensity to leave yourself hanging out of his mouth, displaying proudly to the world.

His body is now all but yours. It actively fights the man, resisting his every move slightly, pumping him with sinful impulses, edging the last vestige of Lucas-his brain- to relent. His body wants you in control. Alas, the brain was the forefront of control, and whenever focused you can do nothing but to comply. Despite this, you know you’re close- the man can barely focus, barely rest, as you continue pumping him with pleasure, taunting him to release himself to you. 

Something inside told you this was it- this was the day. In this very morning, he wakes in a trance, walking over to his mirror, gazing at himself in clouded lust. He was drawn to himself and relinquishing to the desires both his body and you had been pumping him with. Of course, the lapse is momentary, the moan near-inaudible, but it was enough. Jackpot. In that briefest of moments, you wrestle primary control of this body from him, cementing you as his puppet-master. His body complies willingly, flaring in anticipation of its new owner. After all, you’ve been feeding it your pleasure whenever it follows your command. Locked in that pleasure, you begin to move around, relishing in the absolute control you now had.

Still, who knew how long this would last? You needed a way to have Lucas, to be like this permanently. As you eye his features in the mirror, you knew just what to do. 

You start with his face. His eyes are wide with fear as his body continues moving on its own volition. His mouth purses into a pout- a cute little touch you wanted to add- by itself. A thick tongue begins to peek out of plump lips. Like a snake, you greedily taste the morning air, wiggling your pink flesh in delight before focusing on the “delight” you were attached to. You want to taste it all-to taste the man you would become once more. You start by delicately layering his own saliva over his lips. In the absence of breakfast, you deduce this essence to be 100% Lucas. The flavor was - nonintrusive. But you could tell the reeked of an undercurrent manliness, cause in that very saliva and essence of Lucas that you coat yourself with, you also felt the saturation of testosterone, the slight bitterness of power inherent in being him. It was a humble flavor that unquestionably read “Man”.  Everything this body made, everything it was was addicting. 

Prickly- Thats how the beard surrounding his lips were. Delicious, seductive hairs that Lucas liked to keep just the tiniest bit unkempt, that you just found all the more alluring. In this very forest of hairs were the concentrated sweat, grime, and natural scent baked and solidified from the previous day- for Lucas was a morning showerer.

You decide to give him shower his body deserved- “Shower” would be stretching the use of the word. You engorge yourself- sticking and smearing your wet, pink flesh all over that prickly skin, savoring in the salty, putrid essence, in the raw flavoring of the beard of the man you would become. Of course it was delicious. It was Lucas.

Yet there would be more Lucas to share. You survey the next area to “shower” in this bod- he watches in fear as his left hand raises straight up to the sky. Fingers fashion themselves into a claw and veins in that arm flare to life. Cutey little Lukey was trying to fight it. The hand shakes in internal struggle. You decide to revel in this moment. Since your libido was now Lucas’, his cock can’t help but harden. You make him look at it before calling it a “Joint effort” with a wink. He moans, body betraying mind. You catch a whiff of the stench emanating from your left. Delightful. His protestations and disgust are muddled in your raw elation, as you smash his mouth face first into his unwashed armpit.

“MMmmmpph” He tries to get a word out, tries to pull himself off his own skin to no avail. After all, you were still his tongue, and you were quite preoccupied. Sharp, pungent, sour, flavors line you as you smear more and more of yourself around. You briefly entangle and entwine yourself into his hairs, coating them with his own saliva while you poke and prod. His body is forced to experience wave after wave of the pleasure you felt in burying yourself here. You indulge in his scent further. Using his lungs, you make him inhale deeply. His own muskiness floods his senses and he briefly regains control, coughing in disgust. ‘Uh-oh, might not have much time left’. You pull some more strings inside him and his body is all too willing to follow. “T-This is our own scent bro…” he says. The words fall out his mouth in an attempt at the intonation, the phrasing he’d normally use. You continue, making those lips, those vocal cords yours. “Gotta learn to love it… to love us”. It sure sounded like Lucas’ voice, but it there was something off about it. 

High off the aroma, you continue, rounding out his left bicep. Goddamn. Packed inside was pure muscle. Dense, hard musculature built through years of hard work. The thick firm skin gives way slightly, with a bit of bounce as you take his tongue further down his arm. Goddamn bliss. This skin was saltier than the others- different, like all the flavors of Lucas, you note. ‘But they are all undeniably, uniquely him’.

You swirl in fluid, curving motions as you go over every muscle running down his arm. A trail of slime leaves your wake, rubbing a mixture of of flavors throughout his arm. This only serves to rile you up further, as his muscles glisten in the morning light. When you get to his veiny hands, you take extra special care to run yourself through its every crevice, exploring as much of Lucas as you could. You make his lips pucker as you pull yourself off his index finger with an audible pop. A string of saliva follows, but you quickly gobble that back into yourself.

Bulging muscles stir as you command his biceps yours as well. They turn inwards, presenting their vascularity, their raw power to you. Beautiful.

This was it. You motion to bring his hand towards his crotch, curling them slightly in anticipation. As you eyed that cock. You both knew this to be the end. 

“NO!” he shouts in added clarity. Body follows mind and he pulls back some of his own strings for himself. The fight is brief but you manage to grab some control back.

You use his very voice against him. “You’re right baby… this is it… o-our new life… our first time together needs to be special.” He’s now shouting profanities in your head. Funny, you’ve never heard him curse before.

Without warning, you rush yourself to his now-hard dick. He screams in searing pain as his spine concaves and you inch toward your prize. His tongue is not used to moving with such dexterity, but it’s been quite some time since it could even really be considered ‘his’ tongue anymore. You snake yourself around his dick, constricting around the dank, putrid skin, encasing it in globs of saliva and pink, oral flesh. 

Even Lucas couldn’t help but moan at the divine sensation. Your bumpy texture running along his skin shot wave after wave of bliss. In every constriction, you feel it firm even harder, causing you to wrap your slimy hug around it further, construct more. Lucas’ moans quicken as you get to work. Push… You ebb and flow, there and back, as you work through his now-throbbing member. Pull. Each movement of the textured tongue runs sheer ecstasy as bump after bump moves back and forth and stimulates. Push. You hasten, wanting the both of you to fulfill the moment. Pull… Push… Pull… Push. Flashes of intense pleasure rush through you both as you aim for the finish line. PushPullPushPullPushPull- heaven. At that very moment of release, the two of you are brought to another plane of existence. Time stops and the world is still. You and Lucas though? Vibrating. In this plane you rush toward him, your vibrations synchronize with his, you overlay over him, and pleasure rumbles and bubbles from deep within. The universe, your world, your room comes back to focus. In a splash, a wave of pearl-white seed coats you. 

In the afterglow of his masturbation, when his nerves and neural connections begin to provide clarity, to link themselves in trust, you instead feel them attach to you. Much like his body, like his tongue, they too have become corrupted, twisted by your constant presence and the raw eroticism. This was the key to permanence.

Like veins they worm and take root inside you, growing into you. In your perversion of his senses, you feel these roots alight, yield themselves to become yours. Down to the last synapse, you rush and pull these all to yourself, to acquire, appropriate them. Once Lucas’ brain had adequately sequestered itself in you, his memories soon followed. This too had its own flavor, albeit somewhat muted- like the sweetness of his first date-yours. Or the bitterness of a childhood experience-yours. Raw wonderment and passing thoughts- fucking. yours. You scream in shrill delight as the last, the tinniest, the deepest of his neural connections had become yours. There would be no going back for him, for you were now Lucas in body, Lucas in mind. 

Tears well in his eyes. He tries to fight it, tries to kick you out, to push you away from him. His back arches, and he writhes in pain, trying in vain. Face scrunches in searing, unimaginable agony before it seizes and mouth shoots open, tongue dangling out. There would nothing to push out for you and him were already bonded. He clutches his head and in that single instance, his eyes shoot wide open. Finally, success. 

Lucas’ shoulders sag as he collapses to the ground.

Moments later, Lucas’s body stirs. It wriggles awake before taking one assured, strong step forward. It pushes itself up and walks right back up to the mirror, emotionless. Then, a satisfied smile paints its face. Like someone finally resting after an arduous battle, he breathes a sigh of relief. Lucas’ body looks back at itself in the mirror, innocently-eyes glassy. The kind smile it wore grows just a bit wider. It chuckles softly. Success.

The smile continues growing. Chuckles becomes laughter. The voice resounds ill-fitting to the mound of muscle that was Lucas. It was Innocent smile soon becomes tainted with sinful glee. Lucas’ body starts full-on cackling. “YES” you growl. Hearing his resonant voice follow your words, your intent was amazing. Hearing your thoughts spoken in the same ton, same intonation he used took it next-level. “FUCK. YES… FINALLY”!

That last piece was it. Cum still warm on his body, you lap it up, swallowing it whole, jealously keeping even this part of Lucas to yourself. It was salty, musky, viscous essence. It was pure fucking Lucas. The voice, the dull resistance from him was gone. The sensation was both sobering clarity and drunk ecstasy. Like the world itself was realigning to put you and him together, as one living Lucas. His memories now flow freely into you as they are now yours. It tickles. With his memories comes his feelings, his wants, his wishes- all of which you have cemented as a part of Lucas’s new psyche-Your new psyche. Goddamn it feels good to be Lucas.

Finally, Lucas had reframed, recontextualized the entirety of himself, the entirety of his being to you. You talk like him. You frown like him. You smile like him. Hell, you even think like him. Hips sway as you start to dance in front of the mirror in your new body, your new soul. It was pure, jubilant expression. You wipe happy tears from your eyes.

You were drunk on power of controlling him. Of finally truly being him. You relish in hearing his voice as your own, in your very thoughts being thought through a filter of his life, your commands executed by his body. You allow his vocal cords to perform. You allow his hips to shake uncharacteristically, tantalizing. You allow the words to leave his mouth. They were juicy taunts made juicier with the knowledge that his lips shift and degrade the very body they were in at you beckoning, that was his very neurons were conforming to you thoughts and will. You now do everything in wholly Lucas-ey way. 

Lucas’ body smacks its ass, while it continues shaking its hips uncharacteristically in slow, sensual movements. “Goddamn, you should have gotten inside me sooner.” You make him say. “My body, my mind, my soul we were lonely for you. We needed you in here. I love having you inside me. I love you wearing my skin, using my muscles as a suit. Don’t worry” You make him flex. “These are forever yours. My mind? Forever yours. Control me. Use Me. No- deeper. [moan] Become. Me. Be. Lucas.” 

“I’m Lucas” you say to yourself in response. It rolls off your tongue naturally, fluidly, and in full truth. You truly were him. “But you can call me Luke, baby”.

You had done it. You were finally Lucas. One mind, one body, one soul.

“Mine forever, Lucas”

—

It’s been months and your friends have definitely caught on to the sheer oddness of it all. Near-instantaneously, their dear friend Lucas’ personality had flipped. Each of them could pinpoint a ‘special’ spot on their bodies where their boy Lukey liked to lick them. ‘It was just his thing’ they often said, embracing their new dynamic as well as the new Lucas. This you-enhanced Lucas, likewise, had also embraced his new self. Greedy, lustful self-obsession bordering on narcissism, and of course the penchant to show off his slimy tongue. Of course, the first few times you did this, they recoiled at the behavior. You had your preferences, you had the knowledge inherent in being Lucas- you knew exactly how wear his soul, how to embody his life because you were him. But you weren’t content leaving it like this, in just continuing as him. This was the new, improved Lucas. With you in command, you couldn’t help but introduce some changes, couldn’t help but show off your handiwork.

Mark had grown so accustomed to your constant licks, he looked visibly upset when you weren’t on him. One night, you decided to take it a step further, to take a leap the old Lucas never would have and stroke your vascular hands all over him. He complied, moaning all the while, guiding you around to explore him- guess it was actually Mark who was into you. He paid for dinner that night.

The old Lucas was sweet and reserved- The new you? Not a chance. As Lucas, you constantly wore a leering, lewd gaze. You wore thin, revealing clothing accentuating your new Lucas-bound muscles. Why not share it with the world? The very air you emanated was persistently thick with sexual energy, brimming with pheromones. New-Lucas was your deepest desires bound to living flesh. And at the forefront of it all-that thick tongue of yours. At every occasion, in every possible way, you flaunt it to the world.

Tattooed somewhere in this body is your old name. Ink representing the old you, and your absolute permanence this new form of yours, cementing yourself as forever a part of him, cementing the intersection of your history and his. You. Lucas. One. This was the new truth in the world. 

- End -

Had tons of fun channeling @verus-veritas​ to write this one out. Hope I did you justice!

[angelkurenai]

Long overdue - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Title: Long overdue

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: None

Prompt: Could you please do a Bucky and y/n where she is shy but is really close to Steve and Bucky thanks their dating and he gets jealous because he loves her but they don’t really talk that much? Love your work

“Still not ready to retire old man?” you smiled, teasingly when the blonde looked at you over his shoulder, but always with a warmth in your eyes that only longtime friends, family, at this point could have. Especially after everything you've all been through.

“What did you just call me, right now?” he narrowed his eyes at you, a lightness and easiness in both his movement and voice, as you couldn't see much of his face at that moment. Granted there was still some heaviness in the atmosphere whenever silence followed, and his moves if one was to pay close attention could notice were short and stiff. And you do notice it.

But who could blame him? Things are better than what they've been five years ago but still, that doesn't mean good. Not when people were still lost in the battle, important ones. Also family.

It's as good as it can get for now at least, and to have your best friend alive and here with you is really the second best thing at the moment. So you can't nor will complain.

“Am pretty sure you heard me. Just as I am sure that if I looked close enough, I could spot a white strand of hair here and there.” you smirked when his eyes widened “But that's not the point here. What I mean is, it's been a good couple months since you gave up that shield, and yet you're still somehow around. Changed your mind, maybe you need a new one? I saw one the other day when I was in town, I think it would suit you.”

“I'm just taking my time, it's not that easy to find an apartment in Brooklyn. You know that.” he turned to fully face you, a frown on his face but it was anything but serious as he crossed his arms over his chest “Besides, weren't you the one that said I should take as much time as I need and that this will always be my home? What happened now? Can't wait to get rid of me?”

“Oh you figured it out, at last.” you played along, letting out a long sigh of relief “Yeah, I'm so sick and tired of seeing that perfectly handsome face all the time. Distracting, taunting and at the same time reminding me of the 20 skincare products I have to use yet again tonight, to look even remotely human.”

A deep chuckle escaped his lips, the easy smile managing to warm you deep to your heart, just as much as his arms did the moment they wrapped around you "If that is to say you look like an angel otherwise, then yes I will accept it.”

“Yeah, particularly the one that rules hell.” you chuckled.

“Why do I even try to say anything nice for you in the first place?” he laughed, shaking his head.

You giggled, wrapping your arms around him as well, trying to find some comfort in your friend- in your family, before you inevitably had to throw yourself into this new world without him. The new age of heroes where many things had changed and in which you wouldn't have someone to turn to any given moment, as easily as it was with Steve. Steve had always been that important. There still was one, much more important of course, but that treacherous heart of yours made it impossible for you to even remotely think you could be so open with him as with Steve. Not without turning every shade of red there was, anyway. “In any case-” you cleared your throat “I could still get you that shield and you can be back on the business in no time. With a new title, of course, but still doing the job... which involves making me breakfast and dinner when I'm too tired. I mean, now that I think about it, you can still keep up that job even if you don't wanna be out on the field.”

“Ah so I do see why you want me to stay after all.” he nodded his head “By the way, what kind of shield are we talking about?”

“Oh it's a special one. I think it was based off a movie? You know how they are with superhero movies lately. And given how bright pink it was I'm guessing Captain Barbie or someth-” but you didn't even get to complete your sentence when a yelp left your lips and soon laughter followed. His fingers moved swiftly as he tickled your sides but you were faster at swatting his hands away.

“Fine, fine. Not a fan of cinema, I see.” you shook your head with a sigh.

“Yeah, forgive me, but we all have flaws. Even me. Is that the real reason why you want me out of here as soon as possible, maybe?” he raised an eyebrow.

“You've got me. Deep down I cannot stand the fact.” you shrugged innocently, but the smile on your lips betraying what you felt.

“Man, I feel the love. You all are glad I came back alive from returning the stones I see.” he said only as a joke, focusing back to gathering the papers filled with older drawings that he had on his table.

“... I am glad you are still here, though, Steve.” you said softly and he looked over his shoulder at you again. This time he didn't just pause, he let go of the papers and turned to face you.

“Where else would I be?” this time a frown set on his face, more serious than any other you'd seen on his face so far, because he understood what your words meant “This is where my family is.”

“Well, yeah, but I mean-” you bit the inside of your cheek and shrugged “There still were more options. More than you had before.”

“More options, yes. A need for a choice? No. I'm good, more than good. And I wouldn't change a thing about what I have here...” he shrugged softly, looking at you carefully almost with calculating eyes before he started speaking again “I mean, save for one thing I suppose. There is always-”

“Don't. Don't you even-” you gave him a sharp look, fast enough to cut him off “Not unless you want me to kick your ass out of here, right now.” you shook your head, lowering your voice “We agreed we wouldn't talk about it. You promised me you wouldn't bring it up again, Steve. You promised.”

You adored your best friend, you honestly did, but moments like this you really wished you had not told him a single word. Not that he wouldn't have figured it out by himself. He was a persistent man, standing by his opinion no matter what. And this time, seeing as he was somehow convinced your feelings could be reciprocated, he did everything in his power to convince you to act on them. He was the only one that knew the truth and you didn't really know if it was a blessing to have someone to talk to about it or a nightmare with how he acted.

“I try but it is too hard seeing how idiotic the two people closest to me can be.” he crossed his arms over his chest, making you frown for a moment in confusion “And I'm still having a hard time understanding why. I get that you have trouble opening up to people, more than just get it. I know how it is. I'm not the most open person exactly, either, and the thought of getting attached to someone is terrifying given the job we do. But it's not just someone, someone random, we're talking about here. There is nothing to be shy abo-”

“I'm not shy about a damn thing, Steve, stop saying that.” you huffed, giving him a hard look “I'm a grown-ass woman who has saved your ass and the world at the same time, more times than I can count. I'm not some schoolgirl to be shy or crushing or daydreaming or whatever word you wanna use again about- about me and you-kow-who.” the fact that you couldn't even say your name for fear of him somehow being around and hearing did make you look no more mature than a schoolgirl.

“All I'm saying is that if you opened up more, you may be surprised in ways that you couldn't even imagine.”

“Oh like him telling me he feels the same? Well, let's see: you are his best friend, practically his brother. He confides in you, trusts you with his life and everything important to him. Has he told you he sees me as anything more than a friend?”

“Well, he-” he paused “No, not really. He doesn't seem to want to talk much about it... you, with me. Like when I bring you up he gets too stiff but I- I see the way he looks at you! He may not admit it-”

“Because there is probably nothing to admit! It's all in your mind and I can't get my hopes up over just a feeling, Steve.”

“Look, all I'm saying is-” he sighed, shaking his head “All this- All this waiting, and pining because you know that's what this is-” he pointed a finger at you before you could get to retort “You know that's exactly what this is! Waiting and hoping it- it goes away somehow? That your feelings for him are something that will just pass like a scratch on knee, or that you'll cover it up and it will be like they don't exist? This is not how it works. You have to try your chance because if you don't then you'll only live to regret it, and I know you will the same I know it's not something that goes away. He may not see it, but I do. And the way you look at Buc-” he stopped himself when your eyes widened, he sighed instead and raised his arms in surrender “The way you look at him, the way you care and-” he stopped himself, shaking his head before slowly approaching you again.

“For god's sake, the way you love, (Y/n), that is not something that can easily be found. This love that you have in you, this big heart that you are so willing to give without a second thought, the care and selfless devotion is- it's one of a kind.” he slowly wrapped his arms around you, looking you carefully in the eyes “You are one of a kind. And anyone that has even part of your love should thank his lucky stars because it is a blessing to be loved by a woman like you. Waiting is one thing, but to be loved like this and not know it, it would be the biggest tragedy in one's life, (Y/n).”

You knew he was only saying everything because he wanted to help you out, to give you a push as gentle as possible towards the right direction. How right was it for you to confess to his best friend that you've always had feelings for him for so long and possible ruin the dynamics and relation you'd built with all of them (besides making a terrible fool of yourself), you didn't know. You were scared to even think of telling him the truth when you could barely utter a few words in his presence because of that treacherous heart of yours that jumped around like crazy whenever he was near.

“Says the world's leading authority on waiting too long.” you mumbled as a weak excuse, knowing he was right, and let your head rest on his chest as he tightened the hold around your waist.

“Yeah, well, speaking from experience I suppose.” he kissed the top of your head “I just want you to be happy, you know how important you are to me. And I would hate to-”

He didn't, however, get to finish his sentence when another voice was heard “Hey, Steve, you done with those-” but his words were also cut off as he breathed a low, gruff “Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.”

“Wha- No, hey, Buck. Not interrupting.” Steve gave his friend a soft smile, pulling away from you and giving you a chance to take a goo look at his friend, and a good look you did take “Just having a word here with (Y/n). Sorry to keep you guys waiting.”

“No I uh should've thought so. Judging from the heartfelt words and all that. I shouldn't have assumed you were talking to yourself, I suppose.” he was mostly speaking to Steve but his eyes were mostly on you, a soft smile on his lips though it didn't reflect on his eyes at all. After barely half a beat, he spoke to you “Hey (Y/n). How you've been?”

“Hello Bucky.” you smiled as well, your throat closing up “Good, you?” you asked and he gave you a soft nod, without taking his eyes off you. Not that you did either. How could you?

Even if somebody were to warn you about it, it would never be able enough to prepare you for what you were seeing. You always knew and would easily admit that the man was good-looking, but this- this even more attractive than you could even imagine. You had seen photos of him back in the days, with his hair shorter and his face on full display, but to see him in person was a whole other thing. It took your breath away to have his eyes fully on you and not for a second hidden. It felt like his whole face was more open, even though his features were still somewhat clouded; the weight on his shoulders wouldn't go away anytime soon that was for sure. But to be able to be like the man he was back then was more than in looks, he could slowly feel like him again.

“Because that would have made so much sense now, wouldn't it?” Steve spoke up.

“Probably. I don't know, I just heard the last sentence anyway, so-” he shrugged, his eyes only stealing a glimpse at you before looking away in what seemed like guilt which you could not understand “Apologies about that. If you guys wanna stay alone some more, I can go by the car and wa-”

“Nah we're good here, all that lady's been doing is distract me anyway.” Steve shot you a playful look “Maybe you can help me out here a bit. I'll take this bag to the car and (Y/n) can tell what else we need from the desk.”

“Alright, I-” Bucky hesitated only for a second, his eyebrows pulling into a frown when Steve all-too-eagerly grabbed his only full bag of clothes and left his room, all excited to leave you alone with Bucky and you would have glared at him if you didn't feel terrified “There he goes.” Bucky sighed before turning to you with a soft smile “Ok, so is there anything you need help with?”

“I uh ye-yeah. Steve was gonna gather his drawings next so given they're important we could... do that.” you breathed out a little hastily but also in a low voice as you rushed to get to the desk. Bucky didn't say a word himself, only letting the tense silence hang in the air; while you struggled on the inside to come up with something good enough. It wasn't just that you were shy or quiet, you were always so unsure of what was best to say to the man, fearing you'd mess it up or make a fool of yourself.

“He's got plenty of these, must have felt really inspired hm?” Bucky spoke in a soft voice, looking over at the drawings Steve had done of you. You got distracted for a moment, taking the warmth in his eyes and the smile that look bittersweet if not sad on his face.

“Uh yeah.” you cleared your throat “It was around the time I was trying to get him back to drawing after I found his art. I was a bit shy about it at first but I suppose they're good.”

“His art always was, he's got a way of bringing things to life, capturing things in a different way but this-” he pause, looking up to meet your eyes, locking them in a look that only made your knees weak if the small distance hadn't already “It would never even compare to the real thing. That is one of a kind. You've always been anyway, I don't think there is a single person that knows you and could deny that.”

“I- I'm not that special.” you could feel the heat rise up on your cheeks and forced yourself to look down.

“I didn't just say special. I said one of a kind, unique. As is... everything about you. But then again, Steve has always been lucky without even knowing it.”

Glancing at him you did notice the honesty in his eyes, the warmth that almost reached out to you like that of the sun. If it weren't for his words that had your heart hammering in your chest, you would have paid more attention to the way his smile didn't really reach his eyes or the longing with which he looked at you.

“I suppose.” you mumbled, though you couldn't understand the meaning behind his last sentence. Letting the silence fill the room again you desperately searched for something else to say. You didn't speak much with Bucky but you wanted – despite your fear – to be the one to keep the conversation going because the truth was you loved talking with him “You look good, you got a haircut.”

Well, when you weren't making a fool of yourself that is.

Bucky paused for a moment, looking at you and you really braced yourself for him to laugh at you and call you out on what a stupid thing that was to say. But instead all you got a smile that you would be damned if it wasn't shy. It was almost too sweet for your heart to take, and the way he ducked his head as if some bashful... schoolboy (you almost laughed at the word that came up in your mind) had your breath getting caught up in your throat once more. You had never seen this side of Bucky. Never.

“Yeah I uh-” he smiled, fully smiled, and your own heart jumped to your throat “I thought that maybe it was time for a change. I didn't know if I could pull it off again after all these years but I-”

“No” you whispered “No, you're- you look great, really, Buck.” you confessed softly and his smile only got bigger “Not that you didn't before, don't get me wrong. You just look like you did back in the days. I- I saw a couple photos of you and Steve, and it's- it's good. Real good.” you gave him a small nod, which he return.

The smile stayed on his lips as he admitted “Yeah, truth is Steve was the one that insisted on it for some reason.” some reason, yeah, more like you saying how good Bucky looked with short hair better yet.

“Well, I'm glad you took that choice. It does look great. And... not that I think you had any trouble before, but now you'll have all the ladies swooning over you, you will barely have time for us.”

“That would never happen, never. I would never put anyone else before you.” he spoke with so much sincerity that you had to look away for a second because of the intensity “Besides-” he cleared his throat “Looking forward to go on double dates or something? I figured you and Steve wouldn't have time for us.”

“Steve, probably, he's got a lot on his plate now. But what do I have to do with any of it?”

“I just-” he shrugged softly, frowning “I figured that moving in a new place is... a lot.”

“It is... hence Steve having a lot on his plate. I still don't get what I have to do with that? I mean, sure, I'm his best pal besides you and Sam, but it's not like I'm moving in with him or anything.” you shrugged with an smile, focusing for a few moments on the drawings before you.

“Oh I thought-” he paused, nodding his head before he let out a soft breath “Well, I suppose I was just assuming. It's not like... this changes anything, right?” his words were so hesitant that it confused for a second.

“...No? Why would it? Steve is still Steve. Things are and will continue to be the way they've always been.”

“I mean-” he cleared his throat again, shifting in his place “You two are good right? Like, together and all that, you're good?”

“Just like we've always been, Buck, I don't understand why you're asking this. Honestly... Is there something not right with you, maybe?” you asked softly, trying to meet his eyes even though he avoided it.

“No, why would there be?” he swallowed thickly, nodding to himself “And besides, I should've thought so.” he offered you a smile, albeit weak “He wouldn't have given up a chance with... A chance to the life he would've had for something that's not important. As far as that is concerned, I don't blame him. I would do the same.”

“You... you mean Peggy, don't you?”

“I-” he shrugged softly “I didn't really wanna mention her in case... Well, he did leave her for you. He stayed here, didn't go back to live his life with her. Which, again, is the right choice. To tell you the truth, I feared for a moment that we wouldn't see him come back from that time travel unless he was graying and old.” feared, and that terrible part of himself that was too selfish, hoped he would stay back in time to have his life with Peggy so that Bucky could maybe get a chance with you in case-

“But he did come back.” you whispered “And he did it for all of us, there's no reason to give me all the credit, Bucky.”

“I mean, you're still the main reason. And as I said, he did make the right choice. Hell, I know that if he had even so considered staying back there, I would have kicked his ass for it. But I guess I'm more than glad you two are so good like this, that I didn't need to.” liar, he knew he was such a big liar for saying all of it.

“Main reason, yeah sure.” you breathed out a laugh, feeling proud with yourself for how casual you sounded “Just say what's on your mind, Buck. Steve's so tired of my single sorry ass that he had to stay here to make sure I don't end up being a crazy cat lady. I mean can I blame him? No. I can't even tell the guy I... the guy I like how I feel about him.” you shrugged, not meeting his eyes.

You were saying things you never thought you would, but feeling bold maybe you would slowly get somewhere in the end “I'm sure Steve's just gonna snap one of these days and tell him 'She likes you you idiot, for fuck's sake do something cause I'm sick and tired listening to her talk about you non-stop.' and I'm not even joking. That will be it, word for word. So-” you let out a low laugh “I better hold him back huh?”

“What?” you did expect to see such a dark and serious look to meet you when you finally looked at him “What did you just say (Y/n)?”

“That... you know, with me being single all this time, Steve might try to set me up with- I'm sorry.” you shook your head “Did I say something wrong? Was it something that I-”

“You're... what?” his voice was so gruff that you felt even more worried.

But before you could voice your concerns, your best friend was walking inside the room again “Sorry for the delay, though I suppose you guys barely noticed my-” but he stopped himself when he was met with the hardest glare you had seen Bucky give his friend “Uh is everything alright?”

“We'll see about that.” his voice was deep “Come on. You. Me. Talk. You have lots explaining to do.” he took a deep breath, looking at you for a few too long seconds too many emotions on his face for you to tell apart, before looking back at his friend “And it's been long overdue.”

[queenshelby]

The Secret – Part Four/Final Part

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Fem Reader

Words: 2050

Warnings: Smut

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Over the next two weeks, Cillian and you continued to keep your relationship a secret on set. You both believed that no one knew that you were seeing each other. But this was far from the truth. By that time, both Emma and Anthony knew about you. Yet they never spoke about it.

Anthony could understand why you and Cillian weren’t forthcoming about your relationship. You only just started working on set during this season of Peaky Blinders and Cillian was one of the producers. There would clearly be some controversy and gossip if people found out especially since there also was a rather large age gap between you.

Nonetheless, you hated to keep your relationship a secret especially when you saw other women on set showing some interest in Cillian.

There was one woman in particular who bothered you and this was Cillian’s new assistant Amanda.

She showed an obvious interest in Cillian and, being Cillian, he was oblivious about it which was somewhat adorable. He never noticed when women were crushing on him, yet he was the one who tried very hard to set everyone else up on dates.

After some filming during early hours of the morning, Amanda had yet another breakdown. It seemed that she couldn’t handle Cillian’s erratic schedule and, whilst you knew that Cillian was somewhat frustrated about it, he remained calm and even gentle, telling her not to worry too much about getting things wrong.

He was a patient and kind man and you loved exactly that about him, but when it came to Amanda, his kind and patient nature irritated you and you were just about to have your first argument.

In his trailer, you couldn’t help but confront him about his interactions with Amanda.

‘You do realise she is doing these things on purpose to get your attention, right?’ you sighed as Cillian read through his schedule for the remainder of the day. By that time, you both had already been up for five hours and you were tired after you had spent all night together with Cillian.

‘Are you jealous?’ Cillian chuckled with a grin on his face, not taking you seriously at all.

‘No, why would I be jealous?’ you asked annoyed just before Cillian took both of your hands into his and pulled you closer towards him.

‘Exactly. You have no reason to’ Cillian said before pressing his lips onto yours. ‘I am in love with you, no one else’ he added as your lips drifted apart.

‘I am just over this…us hiding our relationship from everyone. Despite, she is clearly taking it a bit far don’t you think?’ you pouted, waiting for Cillian to kiss you again.

‘She is very attentive, that’s for sure’ Cillian chuckled, ignoring your comment and your pout, but deep down inside, he was sick of it too. He didn’t like Amanda’s behaviour and he hated having to hide his feeling for you. He wanted to spend every night with you without guilt or having to worry about getting caught, especially after a long day of filming.

‘You aren’t taking me seriously Cilly’ you pouted again and, just after you did, Cillian pressed his lips back onto yours.

Just as you were sharing another passionate kiss, you heard a knock on the trailer door.

‘Cillian, it’s Amanda. Would you like to grab some lunch?’ she asked, causing you to roll your eyes once again with his lips still on yours.

Cillian pulled away and laughed quietly for a moment before he shouted out ‘Sorry Amanda, I can’t. Y/N and I are rehearsing the next scene’ Cillian said loudly but yet politely.

‘We are?’ you asked, causing Cillian to laugh and nod at the same time.

Amanda left shortly thereafter and, just as she did, you placed your thumb over Cillian’s lips suggestively.

‘Alright, so, let’s rehearse’ you whispered and pulled him even closer towards you. In response, with one swift movement, he sat you up on the trailer’s kitchen bench.

‘You do realise this next scene is between Tommy and Lizzie though, right?’ you smiled.

‘I don’t think Amanda realises’ Cillian chuckled before running both of his hands over your legs.

‘Well, you can think about me later during your takes with Natasha’ you giggled as you ran your hand over his crotch and began unbuckling his belt as he positioned himself in between your legs.

‘What are you doing?’ Cillian asked as you finally reached the zipper of his suit pants. You wouldn’t admit it, but you liked it when he was dressed as Thomas Shelby, in the whole and entire outfit.

‘Claiming what is mine Mr Shelby’ you whispered with a slight giggle, causing Cillian to chuckle.

‘The crew is outside’ Cillian said, trying to push your hand away from his already erect cock.

‘Then we'll have to be quiet, won't we’ you responded before freeing his member slowly.

Cillian lost his composure at that point. As usual, when you showed Cillian your desire for him, he was completely under your control, ready to give you whatever you wanted.

He let out a deep sigh as you began stroking his cock for a moment before jumping down from the counter bench again and bending forward to take him in your mouth.

In response to your wet lips touching his hard cock, Cillian took in another sharp breath. It was hard for him to resist you, almost impossible.

You swirled your tongue over the top half of his hard member before taking him all in right against the back of your throat, testing your gag reflex each time.

‘Fuck’ Cillian moaned as he gave into the sensation and you began to bob your head up and down his long shaft.

You continued that for five minutes and by the you were gushing with wetness and couldn't wait any longer, you needed him inside you.

You broke away from his swollen cock and stood up before turning around leaning forward over the counter, facing the door of trailer.

Without words, Cillian positioned himself behind you and lifted up your skirt gently before pushing down your panties in a haste.

He couldn't stop you from getting what you wanted and he was certainly willing to give it to you now that he was all worked up.

Within seconds, he lined himself up with your wet entrance and pushed forward.

‘Mmm, god damn’ you whispered in blissful joy as he instantly hit your sweet spot. He always felt so good when he entered you, stretching and filling you the way he did.

‘Shhhhhh’ Cillian whispered as he began to move in and out of you slowly.

You adjusted yourself around Cillian’s cock and grounded into him, pushing back against him. You wanted him to take you hard, claim you. He grunted his approval as you started bouncing backwards and, as he pushed forwards with several heavy thrusts, you felt like he was hitting you in the throat with each thrust into your centre.

Cillian held your hips, urging you to bounce harder each time and you almost felt him pushing you into the counter with each thrust.

You knew this had to end quickly and, unlike other times where you would try and draw out your high for as long as possible, you let go as he slammed into you over and over again.

All hell broke loose in your body when Cillian reached between your legs to rub his fingers over your clit at the same time he thrusted into you. Stars shot through your vision and you thought you might pass out from the pleasure. You felt Cillian spasm inside you and a flood of his wet cum started leaking from your core.

Your orgasms washed over you in sync and so were you uncontrolled moans as, all of a sudden, the door to Cillian’s trailer opened.

‘Fuck’ Cillian shouted all of a sudden as he pulled out of you and quickly pulled up his pants.

Luckily, anything other than your upper bodies was covered by the counter front of the kitchenette. Nonetheless, it was obvious to anyone what you were doing as Cillian was leaning over you and his face rested on your neck before the door opened suddenly.

You wanted to sink to the ground with embarrassment right then and there as you saw Finn’s face, flushed and full of questions.

‘Amanda organised some sandwiches for you, saying you were busy rehearsing’ Finn said after he cleared his throat with a slight chuckle.

‘It’s not what it looks like’ you said with an equally flushed face.

‘Sure’ Finn said somewhat angrily as he placed the sandwiches onto the kitchen counter and walked out.

‘This…is bad’ Cillian said to you as Finn left and you nodded with agreement. You knew it was bad and unprofessional.

You pulled up your panties quickly and asked Cillian what he wanted to do now that Finn knew.

‘I will talk to him’ Cillian said just before he followed Finn, not knowing exactly what he would tell him just yet.

It took Cillian several minutes to catch up with Finn who, by that point, was furious about what he saw. Cillian knew that Finn was interested in you and Finn had asked Cillian for help several times, wanting to convince you to go on a date with him, to give him a chance.

‘Can we talk?’ Cillian asked as he finally found Finn down at the docks, preparing for his next scene.

‘So, you can find out who else I might be interested in and take your chances?’ Finn asked angrily as he put down his script.

‘Listen, I know it looks bad but I couldn’t tell anyone about it. I am sure you realise why’ Cillian said, causing Finn to nod.

‘Out of all women here you had to get involved with the one woman I am interested in’ Finn said, still annoyed about Cillian’s actions.

‘It was Y/N who pursued me and didn’t exactly plan for this to happen, falling for a woman half my age. It just happened’ Cillian said as he sat down next to Finn.

‘How long?’ Finn asked curiously.

‘Eight weeks. We’ve been keeping it quiet’ Cillian explained, causing Finn to nod.

‘Right. I feel like an idiot now’ Finn responded.

‘I think it should be me who feels like the idiot’ Cillian responded just as Anthony arrived, getting the area ready for the next scene.

‘Anything wrong?’ Anthony asked, causing Cillian to look at Finn with questions running through his mind.

Finn shook his head before telling Cillian politely that he needed to get ready for his next scene with Paul.

Cillian nodded and thanked Finn for his time before making his way back to you.

‘What did he say?’ you asked, desperately wanting to know where this would leave you and Cillian after the recent encounter.

‘Not much really, but I think we need to make our relationship public’ Cillian sighed.

‘Is he going to tell anyone?’ you asked worried.

‘That he caught us having sex in my trailer? Probably not’ Cillian laughed. ‘But, I think that we should still come clean’ Cillian suggested and you nodded in agreement and it was that same evening, over dinner, that you announced your relationship to the crew and the cast.

To your surprise, it wasn’t a surprise at all to some of your friends and cast members that you were a couple. In fact, Anthony had hatched a bet with one of the other crew members who didn’t believe the rumours.

He won $50 pounds and your best friend was glad to know that she would get the apartment you shared to herself for the next few months until filming wrapped up since, no doubt, you preferred spending your nights with Cillian from now on.

[clintbartonswife]

Love Will Tear Us Apart

Pairings: Steddie, Ronance, best friends!Eddie & Dustin

spoilers for Vol 2 of stranger things under the cut

Summary: what i think happened when the group in the upside down come back to eddie’s cabin.

TW: mentions of blood/death, all that jazz.

---

Eddie could feel the blood oozing down his side, gritting his teeth as he tried to loosen the bat that had wrapped around his neck in a vice grip. It seemed pointless, impossible to fight against the swarm that circled above him.

At least Dustin was safe.

Eddie was never one to make the sacrifice play. Hell, he’d been running from that sort of shit all of his life. Something about this though - the end of the fucking world - seemed to awaken something in him.

For the first time in his life, Eddie had fought. He had wanted to fight. And yeah, maybe it didn’t work out perfectly, but he was sure as hell not going to let Dustin die surrounded by slimy vines and demobats.

“EDDIE!”

No.

Eddie craned his head to the side, just about making out Dustin’s figure approaching from the trailer park. Panic flared up inside of him, the fight within him renewed.

He let out a shout of anguish as the bats on his torso dug deeper into his flesh, a new wave of blood pouring out on to the ground below him. 

“You - can’t -” he ripped his left hand free, grabbing the tail around his neck and sinking his nails in, squeezing with all the energy he had left, “- can’t have - him.”

“EDDIE”

A pulse seemed to go through the air, the bats suddenly going limp, falling out of the sky with a pained whine. 

It was over.

He winced, choking on blood as Dustin came to his side. He couldn’t believe the last thing he was gonna see was a shitty grey sky.

“Oh God!” The younger boy fell to his knees beside him, hovering nervously above him, not quite sure of where to put his hands, “Oh God, Eddie-”

He couldn’t feel his legs. 

“Bad, huh?”

Dustin tried to lift him onto his lap. He should be able to feel that. “No, no, no. You’re gonna be fine - we’ve just gotta get you to a hospital”

“Okay.” Eddie shifted his eyes from the sky on to Dustin. Instinctively he found himself searching his face for injuries, a ghost of relief spreading through him at the lack of blood. 

He didn’t allow himself to focus on the look of horror.

Dustin tried again to lift him on to his lap, the movement making Eddie’s vision blur. “Alright, alright.”

“I think...”

Dustin grunted in frustration, “Come on-”

“I think I just - I think I just need a second, okay?” 

“Okay - hey”

He was lowered back down again, choking on more blood as Dustin kept an arm behind his head. It was more comfortable this way, and Eddie made sure to not let his eyes stray from his face. He would be damned if that wasn’t the last thing he saw.

In spite of himself, he smiled.

“I didn’t run away this time, right?”

Dustin started to cry, the tears falling on to Eddie’s cheek. “No. No, no - you didn’t run.”

“You’re gonna have to look after those little sheep for me, okay?”

Dustin’s grip tightened, the pressure finally enough that he could feel it even despite the numbness that had spreading throughout his body. "You’re gonna do that yourself”

“Nah, man.” He felt a tear slip from his eye, “Say ‘I’m gonna look after them’.”

Eddie saw the moment his words settled in, a new wave of tears falling from Dustin’s eyes as he shook his head in denial.

“Say it.”

“I’m - I’m gonna look after...” He broke off, a sob wracking through his body.

“Good.” Eddie’s lungs seemed to rattle, “Cos I think I’m actually gonna graduate.”

He tried to laugh, ribs protesting. Instead, he focused on Dustin - to see this look on his face was wrong. The kid always smiled. He decided that tears didn’t suit him.

“I think it’s my year, Henderson. I think it’s finally - my year.”

Dustin averted his eyes and smiled, an anguished smile, but a smile nonetheless.

It hit Eddie then, as he struggled to draw another breath, that after all of the shit he had waded through, he was finally at the end. His mind raced with everything he needed to say - to Steve, to the kids, to his uncle. Yet, sitting in front of Dustin, he knew there was only one thing he could say.

“I love you, man.”

Dustin’s face scrunched up, hitting the ground before finally making eye contact with him, voice trembling. “I love you too.”

He could feel his body giving up, could see his hand in Dustin’s. All he could feel was the cold.

As his thoughts began to clear, looking into Dustin’s face, he surprisingly only had one regret about his life. He had never got to tell Steve that he loved him.

“Eddie - Eddie?”

----

Steve knew something was wrong the moment they rounded the corner.

“I’m just saying, maybe he did die but he just disintegrated -”

“Robin -”

“It’s possible! Right? Everything in here is a mess of weird, grey flaky things and tentacles, who’s to say that he wouldn’t become a pile of gunk when he dies?”

“Robin!” Nancy cut her off, squeezing their entwined hands, “Lets theorise after we get out of here, yeah?”

Steve could see Nancy looking at him for support in his peripherals, but his eyes were fixed on the two figures by the caravans, surrounded by dead demobats. His steps faltered, breath hitching.

“...Steve?”

Robin followed his eyeline, “Holy shit-”

Her voice seemed to break him out of his trance, running faster than he ever thought possible until he skidded to a halt at Dustin’s side. The kid was sobbing uncontrollably, leaning over Eddie.

“Henderson - what’s wrong?”

Dustin only crowded nearer to Eddie, back tensing as his sobbing grew louder.

Panic struck through Steve all at once, “Is he hurt? Henderson! Is he hurt?”

The kid finally looked up, “I -”

The girls came up behind him, Nancy slipping an arm around Dustin’s chest, easing him back so that he leaned on her. “Hey - you’re okay.” she kept repeating, “Dustin, you’re okay.”

As soon as Dustin moved, Steve knew that something was very wrong. Eddie was limp, his head falling to the ground with a thump.

“E- Eddie?”

“He didn’t run,” Dustin sobbed, turning around and burying his head in Nancy’s jacket, “He fought - he fought.”

Steve felt his knees give way, landing heavily on the ground next to the metalhead. “He just - he just needs a hospital, right?” Even as he spoke the words he knew he was wrong, that there was no coming back from this. “We just - we just need to get him to a hospital.”

“Steve -” Robin’s voice was gentle, though he knew her well enough to know she was on the brink of tears.

“No.” Steve reached for Eddie, fists balling up into his jacket as he searched his face for any sign of life. “He just needs help - he just needs...”

His words were stopped by a sob, his hands desperately searching across his boyfriend’s chest for a heartbeat, a breath, anything.

Robin was behind him now, hands on his shoulders, holding him up as he fell apart.

“No, no, no, no, no. He’s not - “ Steve’s voice cracked as he finally registered Eddie’s state, blood covering almost every part of him. Shrugging Robin’s hands off, he leaned over his body, cupping Eddie’s face with shaking hands. “You said you wouldn’t be a hero - you promised me.”

Steve tuned everything out, eyes running over every part of his face before coming to rest on his mouth. Blood had spilled from his lips, bite marks on his cheeks. Steve fought tears as he lifted a hand, to rub the blood away. It didn’t belong there. 

Everything about this situation was wrong.

“Goddamnit, Eddie.”

Steve finally felt the last of his adrenaline leave his system, his head coming to rest on Eddie’s unnaturally still chest. As long as he had known Munson, he had never seen him standing still. He was always fidgeting with something; his hair, his chains, his rings. 

It was one of the things he liked the most about him. He looked so full of life. It was also one of the things he had teased him about the most when they were at school, not that Eddie let it get to him. His harsh words were always met with a sly comment, and when alone, a flirty remark.

His mind went back to a few weeks before he graduated, when he bumped into Eddie in the woods. Steve was avoiding his old friends - not that he could even really call them that - and had somehow stumbled across Eddie’s little sanctuary.

‘Stalking me, Harrington?’

‘You wish.’

‘Just admit you’ve got a crush, Harrington.’

‘Oh, fuck off Munson.’

Despite the tension between them, Eddie had seen the look on his face and offered Steve a seat. He hadn’t deserved it.

They had sat there in near-silence, Eddie obnoxiously drumming a beat on the table with his fingers, until Steve spoke.

‘I’ve always wondered, what does that handkerchief in your pocket mean?’

‘What?’

‘The - the handkerchief.’

Eddie had smirked, a confident smirk that made Steve feel more flustered than he’d ever admit.

‘Know what sadomasochism is, Harrington?’

Steve had blushed.

‘I see you do - good King Steve, a kinky big boy. Who would’ve thought?’

Steve’s defences had sprung up immediately, throwing a ‘Whatever, freak.’ at him before fleeing the clearing. He regretted the words as soon as he had said them.

Now, staring at his bloodied face, he cursed himself for all the time that they had lost. If he hadn’t been so full of pride, maybe they could’ve had months together, a year even. But no, all they had was a small collection of stolen moments - rushed confessions and secret kisses.

“-ve. Steve.”

“What?” His voice came out flat, as if any emotion would cause him to lose himself again.

“We need to go. The others...” Nancy trailed off, though he could fill in the gaps.

“We’re not leaving him here-”

“Steve, we cant carry him through with us.”

Something within him snapped. “We’re not leaving him here to be food for the fucking creep that killed him!”

“Steve we cant -”

“Just -” he choked down the sob that was threatening to take over him, looking up at Robin, “You go through - get Dustin back safe. I’ll - I’ll carry him to another gate -”

“Steve -”

“There’s got to be one on - on the other side of the forest -”

“Steve -”

“By where that newspaper boy died -”

“Steve.”

Dustin knelt in front of him, eyes bloodshot and puffy. “I don’t want to leave him here either, but Ed-” he took a shaky breath, “Eddie would not want us to die in here after everything he did.”

“The bats -”

“Are unconscious now,” Nancy interrupted, “We don’t know how long they’ll stay that way.”

As if to prove her point, a bat close to them twitched.

Robin looked at him, a broken but sheepish smile on her face. “I really don’t want to run from a swarm of rabies again, Steve.”

He stared at Eddie for another moment before reluctantly nodding. 

“I’m sorry Eddie” Dustin whispered, slipping his guitar pick necklace off from around his neck. At Steve’s look, he shrugged meekly, “For his uncle.”

“Right -” Steve nodded absently, “that makes sense.”

Dustin squeezed Eddie’s hand one last time before stepping away, tears falling down his cheeks once more.

“Steve...”

He waved Robin off, “Yeah, I know. Just - give me a minute?”

She nodded, offering him a small smile before stepping back, joining Nancy and Dustin by the trailer. 

“Fucking hell, Eddie. We were supposed to make it out of this.” Steve pressed their foreheads together for a brief moment, wincing at the coldness of his skin. “I never got to -” He broke off, taking a deep breath in before telling him the three words he had most wanted to say. “I love you.” 

Steve faltered for a moment, slipping one of his silver rings off his finger and putting it on his before standing up.

“Let’s just get out of here.”

[anlian-aishang]

howdy there ;p i was just uuhhh browsing your account (10/10 very nice btw) and i realized you have literally nothing for my fucking god miche. could i please request a little somethin somethin for him?? maybe some old fashioned smut?? anywhere works for him really, he’s criminally hot but unloved by the fandom. :€

As a Levi ho, this took me so long to get to! I appreciate your request and your patience with it! The once-in-a-blue-moon Miche inspiration hit me tonight, so please enjoy <3

Word count: 900 Tags: smut, canonverse, possessive sex, fem!reader

“Goddamn, baby…” Miche grunted. Large, calloused hands held a white-knuckle grip on your hips. A welcome sting. “You’re so tight!”

Two preemptive thrusts, it wasn’t only that you were tight, it was that he was so… he was so…

“You’re so big, Miche!” You cried. Drool poured from your mouth, staining the sheets, “Miche… Fuck! Miche!”

Hands moved from your hips: one strong on the curve of your ass, one deep with its hold in your hair. Fingers massaged your scalp, meaning to calm you but inadvertently tangling. A mix of pain and pleasure that he never failed to provide - purposefully or by wonderful accident.

“Relax for me, princess.” Slow, steady, yet styled rocks in and out of you. Base of his cock all the way to the very tip. “That’s what you came to me for, right?”

It was. Expeditions always left you so damn wound up. All the time you had been in the Survey Corps, you had never found that release. Some had alcohol. Some had sleep. What you had was a six-foot hunk of a man and the reminders from his sultry gaze and deep voice: my door’s always open for you, honey.

Outside of his suite, you had knit sweaty hands together. See-through lace bra caught your heartbeat. Matching silk panties already slick with your sex. The whole speech you had written in your head was jumbling together. Better to knock before you forget it.

He was prompt to answer when a nervous fist rapped his door. A dark V-neck tee, casual boxer briefs. For a second, you wondered if that was always how he dressed or if he was somehow expecting you and had chosen this for you.

“I want you.” A couple steps forward onto his doormat, fingertips barely grazing the cotton at his pecs, “I want you to make me feel good.”

Your full palm then, his gaze descended to your touch on his chest. Swallowing your pride, “I want you to take that big fat cock, shove it all the way in me, and fuck me until I forget my name.”

A small startle, one he found adorable, as he pressed his calloused index finger to your soft lips. “Say no more, darling.”

It was an order you failed to obey, but the one you proposed at his doorstep resonated within him - to fuck you until you forgot your own name. And if the playboy knew anything, it was that he was getting close to achieving that goal.

Miche savored your tender ridges and the feeling of them clenching around him. A hug pulled him deeper and deeper and deeper! Begging for all of him, no matter how hard he was to handle, how thin his cock stretched you. A hand thrown over your forehead, a glistening sweat that coated your skin, the long moans that heightened to desperate gasps, those symptoms and your screams proved: your peak was nearing rapidly. A sinister smile at your state.

So beautiful.

So pathetic.

A greedy little thing.

Too much for your own good.

His impossible length, the hands that swallowed you whole, the voice that growled from his lungs and bounced off the walls - all of him was too much to take in - your threshold was crumbling before him and before you knew it.

Miche bit his lip. That pulsating down below, the fleeting rise and fall of your chest, those great surges - climaxes drawing near - he knew exactly the time he had and what to do with these last precious seconds.

Fingers cupped around your chin, thumb prodded your lips apart, letting those cries run loose. A tried multitasker: as he intensified his fucks, he simultaneously brought his face just an inch from yours. Breath tickled your skin as he demanded, “Who do you belong to? Tell me who you are!”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!!! His dirty talk and his new pace caught you off-guard, let alone their combination. Urgent was your need to cum, but that vigor in his voice made your priorities innavigable. To cum for yourself or to answer to him, in your haze, you tried to do both. “I’m - I’m!!”

Slamming all the way back now. “Say it!”

“Ahh-ah!” Outside of these four walls, everything else was dead to you. Commander Erwin nextdoor, Captain Levi two doors down, surely, they would hear your screams. What they would do with them was beyond you now. Fuck them. Fuck them! It was only you, your pleasure, Miche, and his.

“I’m yours, Miche! I’m yours!” Arch in your back took him in, earning one of those immaculate gasps back.

“Oh, that’s my good girl…” he cooed. Toes dug into the mattress and pushed himself forward, that one special angle that ground your clit as well. A pitch you never knew you were capable of, a sensation you had never felt before. Miche smirked, “That’s right. That’s right, baby.” A sturdy embrace of your trembling body, coaxing you through climax. A protective tone in his voice, “You’re mine.”

Your new stress relief, your new title - in each other, both of you had found what you had long been searching for.

// masterlist // 

[sehunniepotwrites]

puppy love | l.jn

synopsis: in which a new chance at love crashes into you when you least expect it to genre: dog park!au, strangers to lovers!au, fluff pairing: lee jeno x gn!reader word count: 1,392

author’s note: happy jeno day, czennies! i hope you’ll find this drabble as sweet as the birthday boy! (this is unedited, i’ll look back at it later!)

Tired of seeing sulk about being lonely, your friends suggested something that sounded great at the time. 

Get a dog, they said.

It’ll be a lot of fun, they said.

You always dreamed about having a pet. 

Well, they forgot to mention how much work having a dog was. Terriers were mostly known to be low maintenance dogs that were moderately energetic--your pup did not fit into the norm. 

Though small and compact, Nana was a hyperactive dog. A morning trip to the dog park often tired her out during the day, allowing her to sleep the majority of the time you were away at work. Playing with her granted you the exercise you desperately needed and while fun, you tired out very easily. There were times you wished for Nana to have a canine companion. You wished for it as much as you hoped to find a companion of your own. 

Your friends and family also played with the idea of meeting someone and their pet at the dog park-- kill two birds with one stone--but that storyline was damn near impossible. The only other regulars you saw at the park were either coupled off or just not in your age range.

Nana began to whine as you drew closer to the gate, the dog insistently tugging against your hold. “Hold on, baby, we’re almost there,” you said groggily. Looking around the area, you noticed that none of the regulars were there that morning.  Maybe it was because you came thirty minutes later than your usual time. 

“Seems like your friends aren’t here today, Nana,” you said dejectedly as you opened the gate. That meant you had to play with her--your morning fix of coffee didn’t hit you yet and you hope you did soon. You couldn’t keep up with her when she was like this. Your dog rushed in, her paws scurrying from the paved sidewalk to the grass covered in morning dew. Her feet impatiently stomped as you slammed the gate shut, waiting for you to release her from her leash. 

Hearing a loud bark, your head shot up to see a tall person in a hoodie running after a fluffy Samoyed that was heading your way. “Chief, wait!” 

Just as you unbuckled Nana from her leash, the larger dog leaped in your direction, almost bulldozing over your smaller pet and straight into you. The unexpected impact was too much for you, sending you back into the wet grass. Large pants and a heavy weight kept you from getting up and you glanced to see that beautiful Samoyed hovering on top of you. Its tongue stuck out, tail wagging rapidly as it stared down at you before nudging your hand for some love. You laughed in astonishment before carding your fingers through its soft fur.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” the owner profusely apologized as he reached you, “Chief still isn’t used to how large he is.” His voice was charming just as it was deep and once you caught his eye, your breath caught in your throat. If this dog was beautiful, then its owner was absolutely divine in the early morning light. His hood slid down to reveal more of his face, allowing you to see the man’s kind eyes, sharp features, and clear skin. His black hair was styled messily due to the hood but the look still suited him. 

One rough pat to the Samoyed’s side was enough to nudge him away from you. “Let me help you up,” the handsome stranger said, offering his large hand out to you. You tentatively slid your hand into his hold before he pulled you back to your feet with little to no effort. “Thank you,” you said in reply to his kind action. You hoped he didn’t notice the embarrassed expression on your face. 

“It’s no problem,” he smiled back, his eye scrunching into the cutest curves. He looked like the dog that just knocked you over. How was that even possible?

Dusting yourself off, you noted that Nana was no longer at your side. Just as you were about to shout for her, you found her playing happily with the Samoyed. “Oh good, I was afraid that she wouldn’t have a playmate during this time,” you let out a sigh of relief. Finding a need to explain yourself, you added, “I usually come earlier in the morning.”

“Decided to sleep in today?” the man asked with a teasing chuckle.

“Yeah, pretty sure I pressed my snooze button a couple of times,” you giggled.

“I usually come around this time but no one’s here,” he said, “It’s nice to see someone else at the park for a change.”

Before you knew what you were doing, you shot back with, “Maybe you should start coming earlier.”

With the same tone, he answered, “Or maybe you can keep hitting that snooze button.” You brought up your hand to cover your smile and mute the laugh that slipped through your lips.

Grinning at your positive response, the man extended a hand out to you. “I’m Jeno,” he started off. “And that, over there,” he gestured off to his Samoyed playing with Nana, “is Chief.”

Placing your hand in his rougher one again, you introduced yourself with a shy smile. “That little one is Nana.”

Jeno let out a loud snort and laugh before covering his lips. His shoulders shook as he tried to calm down. Shocked, you looked at him. There wasn’t anything wrong with that name, was there? You thought it to be quite adorable. 

“Oh no, sorry for laughing. I’m not laughing at you, I swear,” he waved his hands to reassure you. “It’s just that my best friend’s nickname is Nana. His real name is Na Jaemin.”

Tugging his phone out of his pocket, Jeno lit up his home screen to show you a picture of him, another handsome man, and Chief smiling at the camera. “Cute,” you commented with a smile.

“Who-- Nana?”

His sudden question flustered you. “N-no, I mean, yes? I mean--”

“Damn, I was hoping you were referring to me,” he said, the grin on his face growing larger.

“Well, I mean, um--” Oh, this was so going well. A cute guy with a dog talks to you and you can’t even form a full sentence. Why were you like this?

“Hey, no. It’s okay. I was kidding.” He lightly patted your shoulder as you took a swig out of your water bottle. ‘Not going to lie, though, I was hoping you would say I was cute.”

You barely missed choking on your drink. “Oh my god, it’s too early for this,” you muttered under your breath. “I need more coffee.”

“Sorry, am I coming off too strong?” Jeno chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s been a while since I’ve tried to flirt with someone.”

“So you admit that you’re flirting?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Yup,” you turned away to watch the two canines chase each other’s tails. “Definitely need more coffee.”

As if they knew you wanted to leave the park, your dogs charged towards you at full speed. Unlike before, Chief stopped right before your feet, tongue dipping into a bowl filled with water. He made space for your tinier dog to drink from the bowl as well, the two acting like best friends even though they just met thirty minutes prior. Tugging treats from your jacket pocket, you commanded them to do a couple of tricks before rewarding them as Jeno watching fondly in the background. 

“Hey,” Jeno called, drawing your attention to the two dogs nosing your hand.

“Yeah?”

“You said you needed coffee, right? Wanna grab some with me? I know a good cafe down the road from here,” he offered a bit timidly, his ears turning a bright shade of pink. “It seems like the two little ones want to hang out more. I think they like each other, I’ve never seen Chief act this way with another dog before.”

You heard a couple of yelps and quickly shifted to see Chief and Nana playing tug of war with a tree branch.

“Must be puppy love, then. And yeah, I’d really like that.”

When Jeno smiled at you, you swore he shone brighter than the sun. “I’d really like that, too.”

© sehunniepotwrites, 2021

[tomurasprincess]

quote #41 with dabi and prompt # 15 -hi it be raph and i’m dancing like a crazy rn,,, can’t wait to see what you come up with mari 💜

Pairing: Dabi x Reader Quote: Maybe I should leave you like this, that way anyone who wanted to use you could have a go with you. Would you like that? Word; Aphrodisiac Warnings: Noncon, aphrodisiac, drugging, fisting, anal sex, double penetration, overstimulation, multiple forced orgasms, bondage, yandere Note: OMG Raph, I am so sorry that this took forever to write but I knew I wanted to make it really good. Hopefully I succeeded...because this is certainly some fierce thirsty energy right here 🥵 And yes, there is some massive sequel bait at the end.

Prompt Masterlist

You stop your frenzied run through the back alleys of your patrol route in order to double over in pain, grabbing at your stomach as more cramps overtake you.

You don’t know what happened, only that you somehow got dosed with a powerful aphrodisiac that’s ravaging through your bloodstream. Your pupils are blown wide open, sweat is pouring down your body, and you can feel your pussy almost soaking through your hero suit pants. You know you have to get away, and quick, before anyone discovers your predicament.

And that was when the villain, Dabi, showed up. Whether he planned it or not, you’re unsure. But you do know that he intends to take advantage of it. He’s been following you for a while now, but has made no move to capture you. Atl least not yet. In fact, he seems like he’s having fun chasing the drugged up hero through the streets, and you worry about what that means for your chances of escape.

You know you have to keep moving, find someone who can help you. But as your lower stomach tightens in the most powerful cramp you’ve had yet, you can’t hold back the pained whine that echoes all the way through the tight confines of the alley.

That’s when you hear the laughter of Dabi, who has chosen this moment to catch up with you.

You turn around, fear turning your blood into pure ice as you meet his eyes. He’s smirking at you as he casually leans against a wall, acting for all the world like he hasn’t been chasing you for hours.

You try to shove yourself up from the wall to begin running again, only for Dabi to slam a hand on the wall right beside your head. Your head is spinning so much that you didn’t even see him move towards you.

“Don’t you dare fucking try it. You know you can’t outrun me.” He glances down at the obvious wet spot on your crotch. “Although at this point, you probably don’t even want to, do you?”

He dips his finger into the slick and brings it up to his mouth, staring at you as he licks his finger clean. “You taste so good, sweetheart.”

“Please - just let me go,” you whisper quietly, too afraid to worry about your pride, and your mind too hazy to think of any other way out of this. “I won’t tell anyone about where you are, just please let me go.”

His palm lights up with blue fire as he raises it towards you, and you close your eyes and brace for the burning. But instead, you feel heat pressed against your body and hear the ripping sound of your hero suit being torn down the middle. Your eyes fly open to see that he singed your costume just enough to make it easy to peel you out of it, and he laughs at your shocked gaze.

“You didn’t actually think I was going to let you go, did you? I have you right where I want you.” He shoves you face first against the wall as he plunges two fingers inside of you, grazing a spot against your inner walls that has you instantly cumming around his fingers. Shame makes your face heat up, a tear running down the side of your face that you’re getting off from being violated in a dirty back alley by a villain.

“Such a fucking slut, already cumming from just this.” He adds in a third as your pussy still convulses with your orgasm, your inner walls seeming to suck them even deeper inside of you. “You’re so damned wet that it’s easy to slip right in.”

Your fingers dig hard against the brick wall in an attempt to ground yourself, trying to let the pain distract from the fire burning through you. But it does nothing, and you cum again when he forces a fourth inside of you. The stretch of it burns to the point of pain, but even that feels amazing.

“Too much,” you whine, “it’s too much.”

“Nah, I think you can take more,” he snickers as his thumb ghosts across your entrance. He ignores your whimpers as he pushes his thumb past the tight outer ring of muscles. Your world narrows down to only the feeling of him working his hand inside of you, pain and pleasure all mixing into one and leaving you lightheaded and panting.

You feel so stretched out, so impossibly full, and his hand isn’t even all the way inside of you. This shouldn’t feel good, you think to yourself, you should be horrified. But as his hand slowly disappears inside of you, inch by agonizingly slow inch, you can’t stop yourself from feeling the intense pleasure. You orgasm two more times before his hand is grazing your cervix.

He removes his hand suddenly, and you hear the sounds of clicking. It takes you a second to place the noise, but when you do, you feel yourself go hot with complete and total shame.

“What is it, doll? Don’t like me taking pictures?” He snickers darkly as he pushes his hand back inside of your dripping, aching cunt. “The sight of that gaping little cunt was too much for me to resist.”

Your gasps and whines as he fits his hand back in are embarrassingly loud as they echo through the alley, and you can feel your juices gushing out and dipping to the pavement below. When he straightens his fingers out as he strokes the inner walls of your pussy, your vision goes white as you squirt everywhere, only managing to remain standing by clinging to the wall.

“Fuck yes, doll, god that was so fucking hot,” he praises you as he unzips his pants. “You better be glad you’re so damned wet, because I intend to fuck this little ass of yours too.”

He gathers your slick on his other hand, using it to pump his painfully hard cock as he guides it to the entrance of your asshole. “No no no, please, you can’t, it’s too much,” you beg and plead in sheer panic, but he ignores you completely as he begins to push inside of you.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” you babble as you feel his cock stretching out the walls of your ass. You orgasm again as his fist and cock press against each other through the thin barrier of muscles separating them. “So - so full,” you whine as you reach between your legs to continue to stroke your aching clit. Despite how many orgasms you’ve already had, the drug is still raging through your system and you still can’t get enough.

“That drug really is strong, isn’t it? Hahh, fuck, look at how much of a fucking whore you are.” Dabi snorts as he smacks your ass, causing you to clench down and drawing a deep groan from the both of you. “Fist in your pussy, thick cock filling up your ass, and you’re still rubbing that little clit of yours like a bitch in heat.”

His hand thrusts inside of you in time with his cock, and you’re only staying upright because of the wall you’re leaning up against. “Please stop,” you sob to the man ravaging your body, “too much, it’s so - oh fuck!” Your next orgasm rips through you, and it’s almost painful in its sheer intensity.

Dabi increases his pace, balls slamming against your ass with every thrust as his fist continues to work your insides, and he hisses out a curse when he feels you tighten around him again. “Not going to last, holy fuck, this ass feels too fucking good,” he grabs your hip with one hand as he slams balls deep inside of your aching ass, releasing thick ropes of cum.

He fucks you through his orgasm before finally pulling out with a choked gasp when the sensitivity becomes too much, and you glance down to see the mess dripping out of you and coating the pavement. You don’t think you even have the energy to cry, at least until you feel a handcuff going around your wrist and snapping closed against a nearby pipe connected to the wall.

Dabi’s face breaks out into a smirk at your confused face. “Maybe I should leave you like this, that way anyone who wanted to use you could have a go with you. Would you like that?”

“No, please don’t leave me like this!” You pull hard at the handcuff, but there’s no give to the metal and it’s cinched too tightly around your wrist to be able to slip out. “Oh fuck, no,” you sob out as you allow your head to fall back against the wall as that terrible, horrible lust is boiling back up, forcing you to rub your thighs together to try and relieve it.

When you open your eyes, Dabi is gone, and you don’t know whether to feel relieved by that or panicked. But then you hear the footsteps approaching where you’re chained, and you feel a hesitant sort of hopefulness that someone is here to rescue you.

That hesitancy goes away completely when you see who it is, and you just know that everything is going to be okay now.

“Are you here to save me?” You whisper quietly as you look up at the winged hero, Hawks with pleading, tear stained eyes. He’s going to save you, you just know it. He’s a hero, right? Of course he would help an innocent civilian after they’ve been violated in a dirty back alley by a villain.

But your heart sinks into your chest, despair filling every fiber of your being as you see Hawks reaching for his pants as the distinct sound of a belt unbuckling echoes through the alleyway.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Tags: @trafalgar-temptress, @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @ttamaki, @lildreamer93, @kittygonyan, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @daedaep69, @heyybrittannia, @groovydreamertrash, @chou-maitresse, @shoutogepi, @togasknifes, @kingtamakimurder, @shigaraki-is-my-master, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @dabilove27, @fae-father, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, 

[semischarmed]

Chrysalis

People say that college is where you “find yourself” and I can’t help but agree. It’s just, well, how I truly found myself was through my roommate Kyle. Or rather, inside him.

How to describe Kyle? He’s basically the perfect roommate. He’s kind, quiet, studious, relatively clean. He goes to soccer practice for some kind of campus league every weekend. Kyle is also rushing one of the frats on campus- Sig something or the other, so I get quite a few long nights to myself. Long, hot nights where I can’t help but scramble over to his side and pleasure myself in a pile of dirty Kyle-scented undergarments. The biggest treats were the nights when he had to do his frat stuff after a match. The nights when I could slip on his unwashed sweaty gear and just lie in the bliss of being surrounded in him. Every few days, we go out to grab a bite to eat and shoot the shit- the guy’s been a great friend to me, despite his typical serious demeanor. Since he was rushing this semester, he’s been busier and busier but he still makes time for me, even inviting me to some of his soccer team or frat bro hangouts. What can I say? I lucked out with Kyle. Still, I’m a greedy son of a bitch, and I wanted more of him. 

I decided fairly early on that I would possess him, make him wholly mine. I can’t even quite explain why Kyle specifically. He’s cute-sure, tone-definitely, but he isn’t super buff, he isn’t red-carpet-movie star hot, so it’s really hard to place why, out of anyone I could take in this entire school, I decided he would be my target. My forever home. Something about him was just enticing. Maybe it was the way his coffee brown eyes relayed a sense of mystery and serious matters, but lit up with the faintest twinkle of amusement when he recapped his games. Or maybe the way his body only gave me the briefest of glimpses at his musculature when he switched shirts. Maybe it was his kindness, unexpectedly bright for a frat-boy-soccer-star-roomate. Or maybe the way his scent lingered in the room after a workout. God, that scent. Pleasant, warm, humid, musky- like summer rain. Doesn’t matter. I wanted him. I wanted to spend my every moment with him. In him. I wanted to be wrapped up in Kyle’s flesh till the end of time, to wake up with Kyle’s eyes, to take every breath with his lungs, feel every beat of his heart pump as mine.

This possession was going to be special. I prepped for weeks- months even. Truthfully, it’s not all that difficult to possess someone for sometime and when you’re as good at it as I am, you can even maintain it indefinitely by putting the smallest pieces of yourself in them. Kyle would be different. Full, integrative possession- a one-way ticket. I wanted this shit to be permanent. I was going to stuff my entire physical form inside his. To take someone at their core, to violate every law of nature both physical and metaphysical- this, this needed setup, needed planning, needed Kyle to be present during the entire process. Therein lies the issue- how to get a lucid Kyle to sit still long enough for me to complete the slow process of integrating to him. 

I came to the conclusion that a catalyst of sorts was necessary. Something that could lock us in together physically, could stop him from leaving or stopping process, could break open after let the new and improved me emerge. Guess who drafted plans for a one such catalyst? Guess who switched majors to Material Science, who befriended a professor just to figure out a good semi-permeable material to use? No one can say I didn’t love him- at least in my own special way. After weeks of trial, weeks of iteration, I decided on a tight-fitting, sleeping-bag-esque contraption. The material and shape were special- virtually impossible for a human being to break out of, kept fluids in but let some air flow through for ventilation, shaped such that we could only fit directly stacked on top of each other, leaving him unable to escape the process. I also set the release mechanism in the back, so only a completed Kyle could escape. Like any good invention, I gave it a name befitting its purpose: Chrysalis.

I settled on a day where he would be weakest- cardio day, a day where I could easily slip some compound into his post workout mix. I finished preparations with the chrysalis, secretly hidden in his bed.

“Hey dude, sup?” He asks nonchalantly with a slight head nod, as he enters our room, visibly tired from the workout. “Nothing, man” I reciprocate in amusement. I watch in secret anticipation as he downs his special post-workout mixture, scratches his cock through his boxers- unconcerned, comfortable, and gives off a loud yawn. “Hey man, I-I-don’t....feel..” I rush to help him, corralling the grimy, tired, post-workout Kyle into place. He asleep almost immediately. I strip us both naked, marveling at my new vessel. Damn. A light pelting of hair covers the deceptively muscular soccer star. A blanket of sweat surrounds him while a bit of the spiked post workout drink pools at the corners of his plump lips. Deliciously plump lips beckoning for a taste. I aim to lick it off and give him a kiss before I immediately realize what the repercussions would be. Shit. Close call. I stroke his hair, leaning in to tell him how much I wanted this. I take a quick sniff at his pits, at his groin and god they smell fantastic. I roll him to his side, as I take my naked form beside him and pull the Chrysalis around ourselves. I roll to have my back face the bed and the bottom of my cocoon, pulling Kyle on top of me and engaging the the contraption to wrap around us. I find the button to tighten it, effectively locking the position of our stacked bodies in place. I find the final button to lock the Chrysalis into its release valve. No going back.

When I seal us together in my little love cocoon, I begin to feel the gravity of his form above mine, slick with perspiration. My future body was dense, probably from years of building muscle, perfectly tempered, toned, streamlined by every game, every win. Inside our encasement, I rocked back and forth, getting into as comfortable of a position as I could and rubbing our sweaty bods together. I lock my legs around his, intertwine our fingers together and wait patiently for Kyle to come to.

The scent was indescribable, orgasmic even. I’ve never felt closer to him. I am in tune with his slightest movements as he lay on top. With every breath, every inhale our bodies rise and fall in sync. With every steamy inhale I draw in his breath. like we were breathing in each other. No one else deserved to experience Kyle this way, not even his girlfriend Steph. Kyle was mine and mine alone. With mine still intertwined with his, I drag Kyle’s limp hands around his belly, his light abs, give him a feel for himself.

An intrusive wave of uncertainty hits me. Oh god what am I doing? Am I really doing this? This, this is unnatural. I release my hands from his grasp and reach them around him, lightly dancing them across my future body and feeling the new vessel so close, feeling his damp, gently sculpted abs for myself, squeezing his supple ass. Stupid natural order shit. I tug on his hefty, limp dick, which begins to harden involuntarily at my provacation. This is mine. Fuck the natural order, not giving you up baby.

He wakes, disoriented in the Chrysalis. “Uh...I...What the fuck...” Panic sets in, as he feels my immobile flesh behind him and he tries to get his bearings to no avail. He keeps moving back and forth, trying to dislodge himself from the Chrysalis, from me, but it’s far too tight and too strong. I made sure of that. “Oh god, oh god...” he trails as he tries to rationalize the past events. I decide at that point to reveal my identity, faking the sounds of myself waking up before sleepily asking him “Kyle? Uh... w-what are you doing here? What are we doing? W-Where is this? Did you do this? Kyle? Kyle!” I’m a shitty actor but he seems to have bought it. I relish the moment when he sighs in relief at the realization that the naked form on his back was mine. I guess he trusts me. Cute, but you shouldn’t trust me, Kyle.  

“Oh thank god, dude I don’t know, I just woke up. I- uh- sorry, I’m gonna try to get us out of this thing,” He states as he wiggles to try to release us from my cocoon. And fuck did that feel good. 

“Mmmmm Kyle” I trail, as my dick starts to harden and poke at his ass. The wiggling does not helping him, as every movement gets me harder and pushes my dick further in him. 

“Oh! EW! Fuck! What the fuck man!” He shouts, before he realizes all this was turning me on. “Fuck dude stop!” he exclaims. 

“Why would I stop this, baby, we’re just getting started.” I give his back shoulder a quick lick. “I’m gonna make you feel like a new man”.

“Y-You! YOU! You did this! the Fuck! Get me out of here!!” He spat, only for it to rain back on to us through gravity. 

He squirms, trying to escape once more only to be met with the Chrysalis’ tight hold on our forms and my engorged cock. “Only one person can come out of this thing” I moan, as I start gyrating myself into him. “Get the fuck off me, Fag!” He screams in vain as parts of me already start connecting into him. The parts of his body connected to mine light up, like sparks dancing across mine. Euphoria. “There’s that soccer rage” I state seductively as I wrap my arms around his torso and abs and push us impossibly closer. “Suits you... suits...me”.

By this point, My body was halfway submerged into his and he finally starts to feel my nerves, my cells as his. With our shared senses, he feels my arms pushing us together as if his own self was doing the deed. “AHHHH OH MY GOD. Oh! nonononono” He exclaims in terror. He is reduced to incoherent babbling as he smells the suffocating concoction of his post-workout filth. The air is thick and brimming with pheromones. He is reduced to disgust, when he tastes the droplets in the air of our putrid selves locked inside my Chrysalis. Of course, in our connected state, I taste them too, only I love this taste. His taste. Our taste. I can only moan as I continue merging into him and my limbs and his are one. I feel my new biceps as I trace them around the new me. Tone. Nimble. Champion. And I feel my new, experience-tempered legs. Vascular. Virile. Powerful. I’m a goddamn athlete.

Animalistic, guttural sounds escape his mouth as the last of my torso and neck coalesce into his, and all that remains is my head, firmly planted to the back of his. I take a deep whiff of his now-drenched hair with our new, shared, workhorse lungs. “We’re so close, baby.”

Inserting myself into his mind was equally orgasmic. He screams at contact. The first plunge of my forehead tp the back of his was some useless frat shit. Whatever. I dig my head deeper into him and felt his years of soccer practice leak into me. More goodstuff. Then deeper still- and fond memories with friends, fond memories of school bleed into me. I plunge further and further in, taking in every piece of him I could, while he pants and winces at my insertion. His first kiss, grandfather’s funeral, deepest urges all MINE. Fuck. I pull back slightly, as I feel his him gently sob, before I push more myself deeper into his psyche. He screams at the injection of more of my memories and at the realization that this was a one way trip for both of us. “FUCK! FUCK! Stop Please! Too much! Too much!” I mentally sneer as I thrust even deeper into his mind, grabbing some more of him, and leaving more of myself. Childhood memories and feelings flood into my mind and I experience everything that has led to Kyle becoming Kyle. The feeling of winning my first game. The feeling I felt the first time I masturbated. More. Kyle’s deep love for Steph.

Damn, this guy was ready to pop the question and start a family with her-Not Anymore baby. You’re with me now, Kyle. I corrode this particular aspect of him with my own innermost desires. My perversions, the pure lust I felt in finally taking him. He laughs, moans at the lust he now had, before catching himself.

“Oh god what... doing... me!” he whimpers as his body convulses and drools. Our shared pupils dilate at the process as his body thrashes in futility. And yet, I press into him deeper still. Deeper and deeper inside until all but the very last of my old self is left. His deepest secrets, his dreams, self worth belong to me. He cries, mouth mumbling incoherently into a crescendo as I worm in that last bit my head into his and my own life become his. My old body’s childhood memories, My old thoughts, feelings, knowledge, secrets flood his. I give all of it to my new self, ingraining me in him, and cementing us together.

“AHHHH DAMN IT! Fuck Fuck! get-get the fuck out!” he screams as his hands start pulling on his hair, as his head shakes left and right trying to get the intrusion of my mind out of his. He recoils as I briefly take control. “No way dude, this [moan] oh god this is fucking great.” We continue panting, continue convulsing as his body is forced to accept me. “M-My name is Kyle, and I feel fucking good!” He shakes a bit more. “STOP-“ I cut in to force him to tell me “God I fucking love you inside me. Take me! Use me!” He begins gently sobbing, but I make him do it with a smile. “My name is Kyle and I’m a sick fuck who’s gonna cum inside and possess his closest friends”. I make us moan. 

Eventually, the seizing stops, and Kyle finds a moment of clarity. With my memories in him, He finds the release built into the Chrysalis and we emerge out of our slick cocoon as one. Sweat and cum trickle out as we come out a new man. A changed man. He walks to mirror in horror, checking himself to look for any wounds in his form. Instead he finds pulsing of my flesh-or what used to be my flesh-at various parts of his body beneath his skin. Abberant. Inhuman.

“Oh god oh god oh god this-this-this, this can’t be happening”. My new heart quickens as Kyle continues to panic. He tries to slap himself awake, but with each slap my control tightens and I make him moan in approval. He feels impossibly full with something-someone pulsing deep inside his skin, integrating. A natural violation of the highest order. He whimpers as he takes nervous, shaking hands all around him, feeling the intrusiveness of the eroticism I feel in being in him. The pulsing in him stops. “Keep going, baby [moan] fill me up. Make me you,” I force him to tell me with a tone that oozed sex. A tone that was alien to his voice. “My name is Kyle and I love dick. I love dick because the man inside me, the man controlling my every action loves dick. And he’s never leaving me. I love that too, because he’s inside me, making me love that.”

“Kyle I’m giving you one last morsel choice before I take it all the way- I decide everything for us from now on” I state to my reflection in the mirror, giving it a slobbery kiss. “We got a cute ass...I’m sure we can snag a few more bodies to play with... I wanna get a little party going. You know, our teammates are pretty cute, aren’t they? Maybe we can stick some me inside them”. I make him lick his lips. “Your frat bros are pretty cute too [moan] you wanna be frat president? I can arrange that, once I make you put me inside them...I’m getting ahead of myself... Let’s start with one. Pick someone...someone we can take, can use, can fuck” I force his face into an out of place, lustful, deranged smile before returning control to him. “Stay the fuck away from my bros! I..... uh...sorry. S-Sorry for shouting. Just please-please! Get out!” he whimpers in desperation, before descending into more hysteric sobbing. Hysteric sobbing which becomes cute, unsettling giggling, which becomes a roaring laughter as I wrestle back control of my new meat-suit. I wipe his tears off my new face, giving it a quick taste before taking a tour of the new me. “You and I both know there is no going back. The old me? Doesn’t exist. I am You, now. This is your body doing these actions, your brain thinking these thoughts”.

A tremor begins from our extremities, limbs become numb as our shared nerves light up in stimulation. More internal sparks fly through us. This was it. Like an earthquake in my new body, a wave of new feelings wash over me, rocking me to my core. The world around us shook, as the final pieces of my physical self interlocks with his and two become one. 

I reach down to pleasure myself, before deciding instead to first push Kyle’s consciousness to the front so he can watch. This would be my first time in this body. Lets make it special. I do a quick reverse crunch, holding the position. Fucking easy in this body. And then pull the crunch close till the body starts to struggle “Arrgh Fuck! Stop!” he screams. I pull even further and he cries from the uncomfortable position I put us in. “This is mine now” I state with his voice, “I decide how far..[pant]..how far we go” And decide I do, as I pull us even further back, prompting another pained “FUCK” from Kyle. I line my growing hard on-our growing hard-on, up to our shared mouth. “Look.. look at what you can do” I moan as him, before letting his consciousness back in front, leaving only control of his face. He is in hysterics as I keep him locked in his position and continue breaking this new bod. 

“Look at what we’re capable of when I’m driving” I state in our shared mind. His head thrashes back and forth before I freeze it in place. I take brief control of just his plump lips and mouth, and position his thick dick inside. Fuck we taste good. Salty, with the smallest hint of bitterness. I continue, pumping head faster and faster, forcing my occupant to feel every motion. We make little noise beyond the soft smacking sounds as we continue. The feeling was fucking euphoria. Im sure he feels it too, since he’s been uncharacteristically quiet. I’ve seen him do his warmup stretches before. I knew what he was capable of- with just a little push from me. When he shoots, when I let him shoot, I keep our shared mouth firmly wrapped around our engorged dick, guzzling our creation greedily. This mouth cannot contain it all and a bit spill below. Even more dribbles out of as I slowly release our position. Wet cum spills and pools on our shared chest and abs. I smear it around like a lotion. 

I jump and stretch myself into straight standing abruptly, forcing a slight jolt of pain from previously contorting this new body in a way it never had to before. His blood rushes through me, through us, and I let out a sigh of relief and contentment in the afterglow of my possession. I lick my new self clean, exploring all of Kyle’s crevices, before I coat our mouth in my new seed for a taste and swallow the excess in one gulp. We taste Delicious. Kyle, you sexy, tasty fuck, I knew there was something different about you. That last stunt seemed to have satisfied him as he recedes into me. I am in a dreamy smile as I tap my head gently with my finger. “All me now”.

The alarm on Kyle’s phone-my phone rings suddenly. Oh Shit. Kyle-er I had a game in a few minutes. I head over to the field with a breeze behind me, to the sight of slight discomfort and subtle gagging from my teammates. Fuck that. Smell more of me motherfuckers. They smile with strained faces as we do some small warmups for the game. His teammates really were cute- I briefly consider possessing them right there in broad daylight. Fuck it, what can anyone fucking do? I’m Kyle. And when Kyle wants something, Kyle gets it. Still, I only came for a test drive, so I decide to postpone their fates.

The match was tense. My teammates were alright, sure. But Kyle? Me? I played his body like an expert- no movement wasted, every single action carefully considered and executed. It was my brain in here after all. Onlookers stared in awe as, almost inhumanly, I block everything that goes my way. Despite my brain’s expert calculation, his body also deserved to praise. His muscled legs gliding my form through the grass, effortlessly, the twisting his body at just the right spot for the most efficient block. This body following my every command, like I’ve owned it for years. The old me was not one for sports, but this? Working his musculature into these complex maneuvers? Straining his form to just the right amount to maximize performance? Bliss. I can see why some people like this shit. The more I move through him, the closer I felt. Despite my heavy panting at the end, I can’t help but feel energized. Being in him is invigorating. I could keep going at this for days and days- this was truly an athlete’s body. 

I do a little dance as, in the end, we squeeze a 1-0 victory. All thanks to me, of course. My teammates brace themselves slightly-likely from the deep, concentrated musk and gallons of sweat I was emanating- before they surround me in a group huddle. New and improved Kyle is kinky little shit though, so I grab and pull their sweaty bodies uncomfortably close, and then squeeze them to me even closer so they can leave with the scent of my sweat on them. They recoil at my actions, at my words, as the normally stoic Kyle gently coos “Great job, team”. They laugh nervously and try to pull away, but I keep them in the embrace just an awkward second too long, sniffing each of them and remarking them. One day, you’ll all be mine.

After the game, I return to our room and look at my sweaty, dirty self in the mirror. I take a whiff of the freshly filthy soccer game and  soccer team smells we impregnate our room with. I take a quick sniff of our shared armpits, deciding to forgo showering this bod. Exquisitely noxious. Not getting rid of this.

I called his girlfriend Steph to break up abruptly over phone, citing my “newfound” sudden onset homosexuality. She was upset, understandably, but supportive. Really, I had no issues with the girl, and in another life, we’d be best friends fawning over the same straight dude. But this was Kyle, new-Kyle, new-gay-Kyle-who-only-loves-possessed-dick. My Kyle. He was mine, and mine alone.

Having finished my short list of post-takeover errands, my new self was on the prowl for some new recruits, new bodies to take, to possess, to pleasure me. Since he never really gave me an answer to my question earlier, I search through the remnants of the Old Kyle in my mind, force them to give me the name of someone to to take. I smiled. In the echoes of my mind, one face, one name reverberated in my head.  

Red.

I start giggling in a cute tone, out of place coming out of jock Kyle before I break out into a full cackle. “Kyle, you sick, sick, fuck...Red? Big Bro Red? After all he’s done to try to bond with you? Sick, incestuous son of a bitch.” I let out a soft moan as I drag my new vascular hands all over myself, stopping at my new nipples to give them a slight tickle, and my eyes flutter. I give them a hard twist, whining in elation when his body delivers the sensations to me. The smells we’ve been emitting has been pungent, concentrated, putrid from that sweaty group hug earlier. “Traitorous, depraved fucks like me don’t deserve a shower” I make him say in dirty whispers.

Red was Kyle’s big bro at the frat, and someone I had only met once previously. Once was enough to leave an impression. Unlike cute, naturally introspective, reserved athlete Kyle, Big Bro Red was extroverted, artsy, and fucking hot. Apparently, he’s been trying to connect to Kyle ever since the two were paired. Well, Kyle’s under new management, and I planned to use every bit of their tenuous relationship to get Big Bro Red under that same management. This was going to be fun. 

I am stopped abruptly as my phone vibrates. “Hey, wanna grab a bite to eat?” I close my eyes in sweet satisfaction, lick my lips seductively and shift my mouth into a filthy smile when I catch the name of who it’s from:

Red. 

—————End—————

Took a bit of inspiration from some past stories I’ve read in writing this one. The story implies a continuation but I’m still a bit on the fence. Hope you liked it/ Happy New Year’s!