#finally finished them lads

[sinnabee]

First meetings and eager greetings from the merboys!

Say hello to the OC that I'll usually be drawing when it comes to mer sun and moon! she's unamed rn, but i have her deisgn figured out at least! :D these are just clean sketches that i got a liiiiittle to carried away with when it came time for colors and backgrounds, oops. either way, i hope you like them!!!! these are also gonna server as the offical, non-chibi refs for my mer boys :D sorry for the funky pose! the markings are easier to discern on the chibis anyway ^^

[b4kuch1n]

and the storm he was driving/washed it away/in the eye there was a silence

[ponchcronch]

I AM DRAWING THE MONKE, THIS NOT A DRILL, I AM DRAWING THE MONKE‼️‼️

[windor-truffle]

some quick graces thoughts (mostly about NPCs), i'm almost done w the child arc:

one of the Lhant soldiers already thinks Cedric might have ordered Bryce to attack Richard, and a few other NPCs seem to think someone in the royal family is involved in the king's mysterious "illness." It really feels like Cedric being sus af is something everyone knows but doesn't do anything about for like 7 years, maybe because they can't *technically* prove it? I guess Cedric has enough support that even the king doesn't want to point fingers and risk backlash.

That or the king himself is oblivious to the culprit due to their family ties, but that's really more of my own headcanon that King Ferdinand IV has a trusting, Asbel-esque personality. He did apparently tell Richard to follow his dreams of building a world without conflict, Richard notes the similarity there, but it's implied through use of the past tense that maybe the king doesn't see things that way anymore

You can tell this game was made in Japan because almost no one seems to bat an eye at letting the children wander around free-range, even when Asbel is supposed to be grounded neither the maids nor the guards or even his own Mom actually DO anything to stop him from leaving town. You'd think they'd want to keep a slightly closer eye on the next heir, but at least it means Asbel gets to avoid a Luke-like scenario of never leaving his house ever

Deciding who gets to protect who via foot race is the most childish and Asbel thing to ever happen 😂 Also him swearing to win next time just adds to his ever growing list of things to take vengeance on, like the Windor cow or the door in the catacombs. I feel like he loses a lot of his competitiveness once he's older but maybe I just need to do a closer study

Two different NPCs comment that after his trip to Lhant, Richard looks happier already than they'd ever seen him. Aww 💜

I didn't realize Victoria was in the child arc, complete with a younger-looking model:

Also I think I originally must have missed the cutscene where you bump into Malik and Asbel tries to lie about Richard being his brother Tiger Festival, but Malik is cool with letting Richard wander around and just tells him to be careful

Lastly I forgot just how excited Asbel is to sneak into the castle at night via secret passage, he keeps saying stuff like "This is a GREAT idea!" like he's TRYING to tempt the narrative into ruining his life forever ;_;

[ghoulphile]

sticky fingers | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 4.5k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; mildly dubious consent, dirty talk, degradation kink, fingering, squirting, rough sex, size kink, standing doggystyle, overstimulation, teasing, choking, dacryphilia, cooper howard is his own warning (he nasty y'all), canon compliant - takes place around ep 7, a grab bag mix of the show and the games ➥ summary | “Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.” ➥ notes | i love my men like i love my beef jerky 🫠 i wrote this over 16 fevered hours after finishing the finale. hope you enjoy~ minor edits 4/22/24 | x posted to ao3 | masterlist | feedback is always appreciated ❤️ feel free to send in thots, questions, requests!

It begins, as most things in the Southwest Commonwealth do, with a fight for survival.

City life is tough to be sure, but here on the outskirts of pocket civilizations where there’s nothing but long stretches of desolate wasteland - arid, sunbaked earth and scorched shrubbery - for miles around?

Well, if the ferals, fiends, and super mutants don’t get you in the night, then the desert itself will. During the day the sun burns overhead so nuclear hot, heat glimmers on the horizon in dancing waves.

Unforgiving, relentless as blink-and-you-miss-it mirages are swallowed by ever shifting sands.

It’s easy to get lost.

Even easier to boil alive in your armor if you’re unprepared.

Far too many travelers from the Eastern Commonwealths have met their demise here, where shade is sparse, and water even moreso. The rain - if it does blow in over the mountains - brings rad sickness.

If you’re lucky enough to still be alive, the only reprieve from the heat is in the stooped bones of bombed buildings and ramshackle shacks... where you're just as likely to catch a knife in the back from a chem fried addict as you are relief.

Because here, in the Wastes, danger lurks in sand and shadow alike.

You don’t trek out into the flats half-cocked: a fact all locals know. And if you do decide to? Well, you learn one way or another.

No, only the truly ignorant - or the desperate - dare to tempt man and nature.

Consequently, as you dust off the crumbs from the last half of a Fancy Lads Snack Cake and suck a melted smear of icing from your thumb, you're of the latter half.

You tried holding off for as long as you could. But once the shakes started, you knew you couldn’t put off eating lest you pass out and wake up in a slaver camp.

Well, shit, you think as you rattle a dented canister of purified water. This fucking sucks.

Almost going cross-eyed, your tongue hovers under the rim as you watch the last lazy drop fall free. You catch it with a grimace, smacking your lips. The water tastes metal warm in your sour mouth, barely enough to wet your whistle - let alone your thirst.

You began rationing the last of your supplies days ago, and it’s been a battle against light-headedness ever since. Pretty soon you won’t have the strength to defend yourself, scavving be damned.

Come on. Think - gotta think. What can I scrap for caps?

Not only is Filly more than half a day away, Ma June isn’t one for charity cases. The fact she offered twenty extra caps last time for some burnt books and bent bobby pins was as close as you were ever going to get to a Wasteland miracle.

Sunken cheeks and pleading eyes can only get you so far; everyone’s gotta eat.

"Fuck..." The palms of your hands grind into your eye sockets until you see stars. "FUCK!"

There are two unspoken laws in this otherwise lawless land: steal or starve, live or die. A grim reminder that surrounds you in old bleached bones, empty bullet casings, and scraps of cloth fluttering in the breeze.

Someone always has to be top dog. If you’re lucky, they might be willing to share their spoils.

It’s as you’re considering what pieces of yourself you’re willing to barter that you see them. On the horizon, coming from the west, are two dark blobs.

Stark against the flat plains - a shining beacon of salvation - is a man in a ratty duster and cowboy hat. The saddlebag tossed over his shoulder bounces with his steps while a dog trots beside him, its sable coat rippling with muscle.

Pay dirt.

Making sure to keep low and distant, you stalk them. Watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

When the sun dips low, the sky a swath of pale pink and gold, they make camp at a blown-out Drumlin Diner. Off in the distance, thunder rumbles and sickly clouds gather.

Dark and roiling, acid green; a Radstorm brewing.

Electricity cracks at your skin, stands your hair on end. You scrub your hands over your arms, huddling into yourself for warmth. Meanwhile, the stranger seems to luxuriate in the budding promise of rad rain.

He lounges under an awning, his back pressed against a defunct Nuka Cola fridge. He gazes in the direction of the oncoming weather while mindlessly running his fingers through the dog’s fur as it curls up against his legs.

Occasionally, its ears twitch, and its eyes crack open.

Whenever it glances in your direction, you hold your breath and squeeze your eyes shut but it never gives any other indication that it notices your presence.

A small mercy you’re thankful for.

While you’re a pretty good shot, your body is weak with hunger. Besides, you have quick hands and light feet. There’s no doubt you can stealth your way in and out before he realizes his pack is lighter than he left it.

You’ll only take what you need - not interested in causing any more trouble than is necessary. Some food, maybe something to drink if he can spare it, and something to pawn. Just enough supplies to get you sorted in Filly.

Anyway, he certainly isn’t hurting for it by the look of things.

Any guilt you felt was short-lived when he settled down after dropping his pack inside, walking out with an inhaler of Jet in one hand and a can of Cram in the other.

Watched, greedy, as he cracked it open and picked at the tin of meat with lazy fingers. Salivated as he sucked them clean in between deep pulls of chem.

Soon, you decide, licking your lips as he chews, swallows. Soon.

However when push comes to shove, the stranger proves far more keen than you give him credit for.

The world spins like a hit of Daytripper, a kaleidoscope of color as your skull bounces off the wall with a loud crack. Air rushes from your lungs as something huge - hot and heavy - slams into you from behind.

Pins you against the wall with ease as your ears ring.

Something rattles loose; your teeth too large and your tongue too thick. Warm metal floods your mouth as the side of your face throbs in time with the rabbit fast stutter of your heartbeat.

Pain sparks and your stomach rolls.

"Wha's?" you slur, thoughts dripping like wax. "Wh-at's..."

Meanwhile, a gloved hand lassos around your throat like a collar. Brute fingers squeeze the tender flesh of your jugular until you hear your pulse in your ears. Senses struggling - sluggish to adjust in the encroaching night - as tiny cavities eat at your vision, little pockets of darkness.

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal," a gruff voice mocks. “Betcha thought you was real slick, huh? Tch. You ask me, you’re dumber than shit, Darlin'.”

Trying to regain your bearings, you shake your head only to groan. “I don’t - ‘m not -” It’s difficult to concentrate, a throbbing tempo taking up residence in your temples. The words come slow. “Wha’d you mean?”

He whistles, long and low-pitched, "D’ya have any idea who you're fucking with?"

“N-No…”

“How’s about I show you, then?”

Warm breath puffs over the shell of your ear, a tongue sliding out to trace along the lobe. You jolt, squirming in discomfort as he crowds closer.

“Tasty lil thing like you, wrapped up all nice and pretty just for me." He chuckles. "Why, it must be Christmas.”

What the hell is he talking about?

It’s hard to breathe with his heavy weight suffocating you; the scent of gunpowder and bitter smoke clogging your nostrils with every labored inhale. His lips - ragged - scrape over the nape of your neck.

The grip on your throat squeezes once, twice; leather sticks to your sweaty skin.

You squint your sore eyes, taking in the faint flickers of firelight that spill through the open doorway. The desert chill of night has settled in, creeping through the busted out windows to dig beneath your padded armor.

Thunder rumbles directly overhead as lightning follows in flashes of acid green. It’s only a matter of time before sheets of rain come pouring down; the air sticky with humidity, trembling with energy.

The Radstorm has finally arrived.

You’ll undoubtedly get sick if you leave the shelter of the diner - might even die from it if you can’t afford or find any RadAway. But as the stranger’s chest digs into your shoulders, and the dog curls up in the corner - uncaring of your plight as its nose tucks into the whip-thin tail - you think you’ll take your chances.

Tilting back to glance at him from over your shoulder through damp eyes, you say, “Look--”

Only his hand moves, viper quick, as it slides from the front of your neck to the nape. Strong fingers clamp down like a vice, like scuffing an unruly dog.

He grinds your face into the wall, rough metal shredding your cheek.

You cry out, a soft, pained little thing that echoes through the empty diner.

“Now why’d you gotta go an' make me do that?”

A phantom glimpse told you all you needed to know; broad jaw, thin lips, a hollow nasal ridge, creeping radiation burns and cracked skin. Ghoul.

“Let’s try this again, Sugar.”

His free hand - sans glove - creeps over the curve of your hip to splay along the swell of your belly, fingers tucking up under the hem of your shirt. You shiver at the stroke of roughened skin.

“Don’t take another peep or I might jus' have ta pluck out those pretty eyes of yours.”

Dread pools low in your gut, a leaden ball.

Everything in you screams: RUN, RUN, RUN.

Alarms blare but you freeze. Stare straight ahead at the featureless wall, eyes wide and unseeing. Through the foggy mire of your thoughts - half formed and shapeless - you have enough presence to understand the precarious nature of your position. 

Heart hammering, you plead for mercy, “Please, I’m - I’m sorry.”

"Aw, ain't that real sweet?" He remains impassive, unmoved. "The little thief does got some manners after all."

Without warning, the sharp toe of his cowboy boot kicks apart your feet. In the ensuing empty space between your thighs, his leg slots into place. Spurs dig into the tender meat of your ankle, little kisses of pain, as his hips rut forward against your ass.

You choke on your spit, pulse jumping in your throat.

"H-Hey, that's..." You attempt to shove at any part of him you can reach to no avail. Built and broad with compact muscle, it's like trying to move a brick wall. "I said I was sorry, okay!"

He ignores you, burying his face into the space behind your ear. A deep inhale sounds next to your head, the expansion of his chest against your back so firm you're not sure you won't fuse together.

The whiskey rough groan he releases does wicked things, makes your mind wander to places it shouldn't. Full of grit and gravel as his cock twitches against your backside, a burning line of heat.

A shiver ricochets down your spine.

He grunts, says, "Mm, you smell good enough ta eat."

The cap of his knee nudges up against your clit with a sudden jolt, shocks of pleasure electrifying your body. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a sob threatens to scrape its way up from the depths of your throat.

You swallow, mouth desert dry. "Come on, let's just forget all about this, yeah?" you reason. "No harm done. I'll even give you whatever I've got left so - so..."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, the vibration rattling through your chest. "So?" he prompts, plucking at the waistband of your trousers.

"So let me go?"

"Now why would I go an' do an asinine thing like that?" he replies. "If you think you can buy your freedom, think again, Sweetheart."

Rain pings off the metal roof, the smell of pungent ozone and rusting metal wafting in through busted windows and open doors.

“'Sides,” he pauses to turn your attention outside, “I’d hate ta have you yakin’ before the fun’s even started.”

There’s no way to misconstrue his meaning when he punctuates the statement with a teasing rut of his hips. Those rugged fingers tug open the clasp of your trousers, yank until the material goes slack and pools around your ankles.

“Hey, wait--!”

You jolt, hands scrambling for purchase as he slides his leg against your core. The friction of his pants through your thin cotton underwear makes you ache.

Ripping through your bottom lip, blood beading to the surface, you choke on a high-pitched whimper. "I..."

There's no way he can't feel your reaction.

How quickly you're getting wet as he drags you along the length of his thigh while yanking your hips back into the cradle of his pelvis. You meet him in a slow grind that boils your blood and steals the breath from your lungs.

It’s been - shit - far too long since you’ve felt anything other than hunger, thirst; the animal drive to keep pushing forward.

"You like this, don'tcha?"

You hear the dagger-sharp smile hidden in his words.

He croons, "What would your fellow smoothies think, huh? Here you are lettin’ a ghoul get you all hot n bothered - and you’re lovin’ it. Ain't you?"

You throb in response, heat stealing its way into your cheeks as you turn your head away in shame. His dark chuckle lets you know he felt the squeeze of your thighs, the rock and dip of your hips against his knee.

"I - I don't..." you stutter, struggling for a retort. “I’m not--”

A tremble works its way through your body, crushed as you are between the rad warm burn of his body and the wall. Completely at his mercy as you try to figure out where it all went wrong and what you can do to worm your way out of this one.

Terrified of what'll happen if you stay, terrified of what'll happen if you go; stuck in limbo as what was meant to be a simple grab-and-dash devolved into this confusing cluster of shame and lust.

You loathe the embers of desire kindling to life low in your belly.

"You really outta start bein' more honest, Sweetheart."

A large hand dips beneath the worn band of your underwear, and you wait with baited breath. Helpless as calloused fingertips brush over the swell of your mond.

Your inner thighs are uncomfortably sticky with slick, and your eyes burn in humiliation. Your throat trembles around all the words you want to say.

"Didn't anyone teach you lyin' was bad?" he asks rhetorically as his fingers slip down to play with the swollen bud of your clit, tapping lightly.

You keen, low and wounded.

Short nails dig into your palms as you flex your hands for want of something to grab onto.

“I am being honest,” you bite out through grit teeth. Sweat dapples your furrowed brow. “Just lemme go, please.”

"I find that hard ta believe," he replies. "Sorry to say, but you're shit at lyin'. Just look how hungry your lil cunt is for me."

It’s the only warning you get before those long digits plunge deep inside, two becoming three as they stretch you wide. Hollow you out; knuckles massaging your entrance as the tips prod along the sensitive front wall of your cunt.

You clamp down with a strangled moan. “Shit!”

This is a horrible idea - but it’s been forever and a day since you’ve felt anything other than your own touch.

Whether it be the bone-deep loneliness you’ve been shoving down for months or the sudden, inexplicable need for contact, you long for a reminder that you’re still alive.

That you’re not some wrath of the Wasteland filled with sand and blood, doing whatever it takes to survive in a place that would rather see you fail.

“I - I’m not sure.”

He snorts but offers no council or reassurances, using his free hand to yank at the back of your head in impatience. While it might’ve been a fairer fight if you weren’t in such bad shape, there’s no denying that he’s proven himself to be more adept.

Stronger, quicker.

This is going to happen either way.

And that turns you on - even though you feel like it shouldn’t.

If you give in, if he forces you to give in, it’s not really your fault then, is it? You can enjoy it because you have no choice.

Fuck it, you think, closing your eyes and tilting your head to the side in submission.

Like a doll with cut strings, all the fight drains from your body and you’re left sharing space. The ghoul is a furnace of heat behind you, barely any space to breathe he’s crowded so close.

His cock thickens where it digs into the soft fat of your ass, as large and intimidating as the man himself. “Now stay still for me.”

The or else goes unspoken.

Then he’s stepping away, a rush of cold air filling the empty space at your back.

You shiver, tempted to turn around. Maybe make a run for it. The only thing stopping you is the awareness that his threats aren’t so idle. In your experience, it’s far better to befriend the monster than to anger it.

So you comply, waiting an eternity as your senses strain to pick up on anything other than the murmuring hush of rain, the rumble of thunder, as the Radstorm continues to blow its way through.

Though just when you think he might’ve left, ready to chance moving, you hear the clink of a belt buckle clicking open. The scuff of boots across the linoleum before broad hands shove up under your shirt, scarred palms bare as they settle on your hips.

You tense before forcing yourself to relax.

“You ain’t as stupid as I thought,” he says. “Good girl.”

A test.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I can listen,” you mumble, keeping calm as his hands explore the plains of your stomach, pluck at the waistband of your panties. “Promise ‘m not gonna do anything else.”

Learned my lesson the first time. Got my skull cracked open for it.

“That’s what I like ta hear.”

Without warning, your panties are being ripped from you, scraps of fabric fluttering useless to the floor. You squawk in indignation but then a heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades.

He presses down, and you follow without complaint, finding yourself bent in half.

And then the fat head of his cock is right there, teasing at your entrance. He plays with your cunt, slipping the shaft between your wet folds. Dragging up the length of you to tap at your swollen clit.

Jerking in his hold, you whine and try to bear down with all your weight. “Please,” you squirm. “Please, c’mon…”

His grip remains firm, bruising as he exhales next to your ear, a pleased little grumble. “Thatta girl. Now tell me, who’s my pretty lil thief?”

Every hard ridge of his body bites into the softness of yours, your stiff nipples dragging against the rough material of your shirt. Zings of pleasure shoot through you; bursting in your bloodstream, fizzy like warm Nuka Cola.

“I-”

“Go on now, Sweetheart: say it.” Fingers dig into your hips so hard your bones ache. “Or I jus' might be tempted ta take a bite outta your pretty lil backside instead.”

He’s bluffing, you think, half delirious, … Right? He wouldn’t--

You swallow, throat clicking, and squirm against him.

Is that a chance you’re willing to take?

No, no it’s not.

“Y-Yours - I’m - I’m your little thief.”

The unexpected flare of satisfaction in his voice is almost your undoing. A hand pets down your flank, swatting the outside of your thigh playfully.

“Good girl.” He demands, “Say it again.”

Sharp hip bones kick forward against your ass as he lines himself up and starts to bully his way inside.

“I’m - YOURS!”

Your soft, gummy walls flutter, squeeze until giving in with a pop under the hard pressure of the fat head. His cock stretches you out, thick and girthy.

Ridges of scar tissue and patches of rough friction pockmark his shaft, massaging tender places as he fills you up, fucking you open.

He feeds you inch after inch… until he can’t.

“Wait!”

Accommodating his girth is a struggle, your cunt filled to the brim by the time he’s halfway inside. No amount of slick could make him fit, so he makes do with harsh little jerks of his hips. Forces himself deeper and deeper until he glides home nice and smooth, sheathing himself to the base with a sigh of satisfaction.

You clamp down hard with a hiccupy whine, walls furtively trying to push him out. “A-Ah!”

“Goddamn,” he huffs, hands kneading your ass, “You’re a tight fit.”

Tears prick your lash line, your hips shifting as you try to stop him from moving. Begging for a moment of reprieve. You’ve never taken something so big and thick, so textured before.

Coupled with the minimal foreplay, it feels like he’s punched his way through your body. Hollowed you out to make a home for himself.

Pussy aching, a low burning tightness creeps over your lower belly as tender flesh pulses uncomfortably around the unforgiving heft of his cock seated deep inside. You swear you feel him poking your belly button.

“Please,” you pant, heat settling into your cheeks. “J-Just wait a sec-ond! I can’t - oh shit.” 

“Aw, look at you.” Fingers reach around to brush over your cheeks, gather the tears that’ve slipped free. “Didn’t mean ta make you cry,” he lies.

The sound of him sucking his fingers clean reaches your ears. Your stomach swoops, and your clit throbs. Dazed as you wonder what his mouth would feel like on your pussy.

"Hah - too much, you're - fuck - you're too big."

He snickers. “Can’t be helped, I guess.” Body rippling in a shrug, his hands re-settling on your hips. “But that’s all right - I like it better when they cry.”

Before you can retort, he pulls his hips back.

Your toes curl in your boots, feet squeaking across the linoleum floor as your sweaty forehead grinds into the cool metal of the wall. The texture of his shaft burns as it slides through your swollen folds, dragging against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed.

You can’t tell if it’s the best you’ve ever felt or the worst, but you nearly sob all the same, nerves alight with liquid fire. Want him as deep inside as he can go; a frenzy of desperation that needs him to stuff you so full you choke.

“See for all your whining, you’re takin’ me so well. What did I say about bein' honest?”

You sniffle, blurry eyes creaking open to stare out the window.

Your body throbs in time with your pulse, your pussy so stretched out you can’t clench down when he thrusts in deep. The fat mushroom head teases your cervix, a faint whisper, before he’s drawing back again.

“T-Too fast,” you stutter, head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Your thighs tremble, knees going soft. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Sh, you can take it. I know you can.”

With a grunt, he surges forward. Wasting no time in starting up a brutal pace that rattles your bones. He drives you hard into the side of the diner; tits crushed and face smashed, a disgusting mixture of tears and drool wetting your cheek.

“Just like that, Sweetheart.”

You do little more than hold on, all thoughts driven from your mind as he fucks you swollen and bruised. Cunt a sticky mess as your slick eases the way, clinging to your inner thighs and dripping down his heavy balls.

Every thrust punches little sounds from you, and he grunts. “Fuck!”

Your hands cling to the sides of his hips, focusing on the shift of muscle beneath heavy fabric. “I can’t,” you slur, eyes cloudy as you glance up into his, gazes meeting for the first time. “Please, I - ah!”

His thrusts turn punishing, even more so than they already were, hips meet your ass with enough force to leave bruises. “What did I say about sneakin' a peek?”

While the words sound threatening, his voice is heated and breathy. For all his talk, he doesn’t look away. In fact, his hips slow into languid rolls, grinding close. When your eyes slide from his, he reaches down to pinch your clit between his fingers.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides. “You keep those eyes on me.”

Pretty, you think, dazed.

Glinting in the slants of firelight like wet sand or a Nuka Cola bottle in the sun; bourbon warm as they peer at you from beneath a heavy brow bone.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl."

Eyes fluttering when he flexes his hips in reward, the tip massaging along your g-spot, your mouth drops open on a whine.

“O-Oh! Right there, I - fuck, please don’t stop. ‘m so close.” F-Feels s'good.

His bare hand reaches up to curl around your jaw, gnarled fingers pushing their way past the open circle of your swollen lips. They compress your tongue as they gather saliva, stroking along your tastebuds.

Gritty, rough; he tastes of dirt, blood, and gunpowder.

You sneak a kiss to his scarred knuckle when he pulls free.

“Shit, I’ll be damned. You’re just a nasty lil freak, ain't you?”

You moan in response, stretching up on your tip-toes and arching your hips to change the angle. Your palms rest beside your head, docile.

A crazed grin cracks the corners of his lips, his teeth bared like an animal. “I like that,” he husks. “Now be a peach…”

Then those soaked digits are finding their way between your thighs, ghosting over your skin to smear spit onto your abused clit. The tender bud throbs beneath his fingertips, swollen and begging for attention.

He hitches his hips forward to feel you jerk, pulsing beneath his touch as he resumes a fast, jolting pace that has you smacking into the wall.

“And cum for me.”

A deep rumble escapes his throat, the sloppy, wet sounds of him fucking you ringing loud in your ears. Your hips roll, unsure if you want to press forward into the swirl of his fingers or back into the rut of his cock.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your chest heaving with weak sobs.

“Please,” you whine, his shaft pinching your walls uncomfortably. You feel swollen, rubbed raw. “A-Almost there.”

A nip to the ear is all it takes.

“Hhaah, I’m--!”

The liquid heat that’s been pooling low in your belly - building and building - finally bursts in a gush of slick that soaks his hand. Darkens the crotch of his pants as it drips down your thighs to splash against the tile.

You sob, a full body tremor zipping through you like bottled lightening.

In the aftermath, your cunt twitches in time with your heartbeat. Hands numb and head full of cotton as cramps bloom between your hips. Sharp little stabs shoot up behind your navel.

“Shit, I’ve got myself a gusher,” he laughs, a nasty little smirk tugging at his lips. “Look at the mess you made. Now if you ask real sweet-like, maybe I’ll let you clean it up with your tongue.”

You sag, too boneless to be ashamed as electric aftershocks tingle along your nerves. All the while, his pace never falters, quickly fucking you into overstimulation.

Your clit twitches pathetically when the fat head of his cock drags along your g-spot. "No more," you mumble weakly, letting him maneuver your body how he likes. "Please."

“Heh, let’s see if you can do that again.”

You whimper, “Oh, oh, please n-no. I - I can’t. You’ll break me.”

“That’s real cute,” his lips, harsh and rasping, drag over the shell of your ear, “but I wasn’t askin’.”

The grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain, digging in and marking you up.

“Now, why don’ we have some real fun, Darlin'?”

[ladybyakuya]

| MY STARGIRL + rafayel, sylus, xavier, zayne. 

+cw. — f!reader, headcanon + scenarios format, established relationship, unprotected, s/d dynamics, explicit smut, rafayel is in heat, period sex, oral sex, f!overstim + m!overstim,  | +wc. — 3.5k |

+syn. — the thought of having a quickie with you occurred to him so suddenly and so enormously that all he needed was just to make it go away. However, it did not stop there.

+notes. — something possessed me while I wrote this. So happy that I’m finally making the debut post for this fandom & thanks to @hayatoseyepatch for beta reading all my lads pieces. | redirect to blog navigation

◈ RAFAYEL. 

“It’s just the tip baby,” Rafayel whispers against your ears followed by a prolonged groan. Encapsulated by his arms you feel immobile under his touch. He adds, “I promise.” You know him better than he knows himself. He says it's just the tip but the way he is being handsy with you, playing with the hem of your robes, pressing himself against you it does not strengthen the promise part of his word. 

“I don’t think you will. . .ahaAah!” His lips have already moved onto the bottom of your nape. You can feel his teeth sinking into your skin.  You can still look at the view of the vast blue of the sea through the window but as his hands skim under your dress cupping your breasts you moaningly exclaim, “I bet you won’t stop just at the tip.” There is a hint of mockery in your tone, underneath that, a challenge. Rafayel can take on challenges quite well even though he will whine about them throughout, very well when it is coming from you but not a taunt. That’s still a little hard to digest for him.

“Hah! We’ll see who’s on the winning side,” He rasps against your ears before turning you towards himself. Now your back is against the warm glass window. The heat does not irritate your skin since the sun is not very rowdy today but Rafayel is. Rafayel does not wait any further for any form of resistance but ends up smashing his lips against yours. It is the first time he has been like this, so needy, so rough, and above everything you like it. Is he on his heat cycle already? Both of your hands rest on his chest, trying to push him away at the possible realization because it would be dangerous for both of you but he just wouldn’t budge. So, instead of trying to resist, you just give in. 

“We’re not going to do this here, are we?”Rafayel does not answer your question with words but with his actions. He clusters all your dress up and tucking it over your boobs. You gulp as you help him to unbuckle his belt. As soon as his pants hit the floor, you can see the evidence of his yearning for you. 

Rafayel takes you into his lap by hoisting you up in his arms. The moment he pushes the head of his cock inside you, a gush of warmth washes all over your body. It is a beach resort solely owned by him where you have accompanied him but there must be at least a few staff, right? What if they see you like this? The chances are bleak but never zero. Those worrisome thoughts were pushed aside you feel the base of his cock hitting your skin with a strong deep thrust making you arch and moan.  You tip your head forward to say, “But Rafayel. . .you said. . . it's just the tip.” 

“And you said I —ahh— I can’t be stopped at just the tip.” He states as he starts to rut into you. “I'm just proving you right. Doesn't it feel good to be on the winning side?” it does . . . it does . . . your arms encapsulate around his shoulders as he starts to bob you up and down his fat shaft as you bury your face into his shoulders. He is stronger than his usual self. As he quickens his pace you start to whimper and you can feel him leaking and growing inside you, reaching your sweet spot as he keeps rutting into you in full yet strong thrusts.

By now, he has fucked you in different positions and different places of the resort keeping in mind not to finish inside you. He can not just help it: chasing the thought of cumming inside you especially when he fucked you raw for the first time. But he can wait. No. he will wait for you till you are begging for him.

And, when the sun sinks into the sea making the sky blush at its fullest, you and him are deep in slumber, in front of the fireplace, under the sheets, naked underneath, and holding each other.

◈ SYLUS.

It’s painful. He has been teasing you for a while now and your posture does not make it easier for you. Your muscles feel clammy. The way Sylus keeps rubbing the tip of his cock-head against your soft, tender flesh of your femininity gradually wears off your patience, thinning your limit and testing your sanity. It was you. It was all you. You admit that but you did not think he would be able to keep up when you kept being so needy, so ready for him. By now, you have come to know his melting points and you know when to abuse them and when not to. When you said you needed him, despite being in your months-time, at first he hesitated because you are not someone who can easily beg or ask for things but when you kept being handsy, and distracting him he said he would— with just the tip— a mere quickie but you never knew it would turn out to be this tormenting.

“Wait Sylus. You gasp as he rests both of his palms over your respective knees. This position.”

“Yeah, too deep?” Sylus verbalized with a veil of mischief over his face as he spread your legs apart as a result pushing the tip of his cock-head inside you. But before now, he would jock down to kiss you,  suckle at your nipples, and play with your hair but his cock would still be rubbing against the outer folds of your pussy, and truth be told, it was good, it was okay you felt satisfied but the moment you felt his cock inside you, even just the tip, it made you want all of him. “Let me know if I hurt you, okay?”. He isn’t; if anything he is diluting your self-control by pushing himself in you in small doses.

Sylus smiles as he cups your cheek, rubbing his thumb over it. He sees it the way you keep swallowing, gasping for breath, biting your lip, touching yourself — you do that when you want something yet can not ask for it. As you half-lay on the bed, with elbows resting on the mattress creating dips under the influence of your pressure Sylus leans towards you his hands still intact on your knees, spreading them further as a result of which he sinks more into you; you gasp followed by a moan feeling almost half of him inside you. With a crease amongst your eyes, eyes closed, chest heaving up and down while the night robe is barely covering your breasts you look divine under the dim light of the room.

You can feel how aroused you are. It would merely take a few thrusts to make you cum. He can feel that too yet dares to ask, “Do you want me to move?” Since he asked so nicely you decide to play into his little game. Wrapping one of your arms around his nape, you pull him into a strong, yearnful kiss. He can tell. He can certainly tell how much you want him now. As you slowly feel his hands under your waist locking in, your legs start to curl around his hips The lights go dead when you pull away from the kiss to take a breather and he pushes all of him into you adjusting you in his lap. A gasp of a high note blesses Sylus’s ears followed by a trail of short quick huffs as if he ran fingers along the piano keys. Even with the lights out, when you glimpse his eyes on yours a hot wave of embarrassment washes over you. 

The lights are alive again when you bury your face in his chest. 

“Kitten, you doing good?” He asks that with the whole of him inside you despite knowing how such soul staring gaze while having sex makes you nervous. He walks into a different room in that position carrying you where two mirrors are placed opposite to each other. 

You barely peep seeing him through the mirror at first and then look into his eyes, commanding, “Fuck me as you hate me Sylus.”

A throaty chuckle escapes from his chest as he says, “Y’know I can’t do that.” As he puts you on the bathroom sink. “However, I shall not disappoint my queen.” placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

◈ XAVIER.

Xavier claims that he is not much fond of the idea of punishments in general but he has never denied yours. In fact, he has enjoyed them thoroughly till the end. He has never been the one to ask things right away and always ends up taking detours after detours observing your expressions so minutely, so intently since it sends an ample amount of electric thrill in his heart for a few seconds — the way you look away when he makes advances on you, the way you quickly lick your bottom lip before dismissing his approaches or the quickening of your breaths, the flustered look— even if it is just for a mere few seconds — it’s all worth it in the end when you just give in, doing all those innuendos, craving your walking path only to him and him alone. 

But, this time you decided to try tackling him from a different angle. You did not resist like you usually do when he slowly started to cave into you. In fact, you agreed with him right away. Both of your stress would just sublime especially if you two took a quickie break together. Ah! The look on his face— was priceless: with one of his eyebrows pitched higher than the other as a small crescent appears along his lips: he is so confused. Even if Xavier can not quite navigate your thoughts he is not backing out and you know he won’t.

As you sit on the nightstand crossing your legs, one upon the other with your heels still intact you summon him with your arm raised, all the fingers lightly curled into a fist except your index finger that moved to and fro for him, while Xavier stands at an arm's length from you. He walked towards you but stood, waiting for your next move. You loosen his tie and pull it away from his collar with a swish. He leans into you but stops midway as he feels your pointed nails digging into his chest. 

“Turn around,” you utter with a grave tone. It is so odd to see you like this that Xavier can not help but be pulled into this intimidating daze of yours. After you tie his hands at the back he turns around and then the fun begins. Xavier loses his mind for a good minute when he sees you taking his cock out of his trousers, jocking down with lips forming an unfamiliar pout, only to spit on it, stroking his length all over, coating your saliva on his cock. He groans loudly enough for you to look at him. Is he okay? With his head tipped backward you fail to gauge his expressions so you spit on your hand to use it as a lube for his cock.

Xavier tips his head forward as he feels his cock being surrounded by something, but only a part of it. There is a gap in between your cross-legged sitting posture: the gap between the end of your knee and the apex of your calf muscle with your other knee underneath. 

“You don’t mean — Xavier stammers— that I—

“Yes. I mean exactly what you’re thinking.” You exclaim with a firm tone by keeping your fingertips underneath your hand, elbow rested over your knee as you wait for his move. As he starts to move he can understand how much he has to work for himself to cum and you are just staring at him. It drives him insane, really. With his hand tied at the back, he can only do so much so you decide to help him— out of pity of course. After you unbutton his shirt one by one, you hold his hard nipple with your sharp nails and pinch it; Xavier has to fight the urge to hold himself back from latching his lips on your warm skin.

As your hands move upwards, caressing his cheeks, thumb abusing his lips. He glances before he takes your thumb into his mouth while his hips are in constant motion. “Go ahead. Get yourself off.” Yeah! He doesn’t need to be reminded of that. You watch his face contort, your thumb pressed in between his teeth making you wince as he peaks his orgasm. He pulls out his cock and the exhaustion is heavy on his muscles. 

Inserting a finger into the gap between his belt and trousers, you pull him towards yourself, whispering, “Good boy ”over his lips before kissing him. He moans while kissing and surrenders as you untie the knot of his hands which immediately clamp around your shoulder heads. Well, aren't you an angel for showing kindness to him?

“More. . . more . . . I want more. . .” Xavier mumbles taking a quick breather before diving back to one more kiss and this time he is rougher than usual. 

◈ ZAYNE.

Zayne has been teasing you for . . . ah ! You do know how long has it been since he pushed you over the pool table. His cock is still inside his pants, intact but awake. Although the only view you have is the ceiling and sometimes his face when he rubs the clit folds by running his thumb roughly over them while the rest of the finger rests against your inner thigh. He has unbuttoned your dress shirt enough to have a view of a slice of your supple skin. Every time he presses your bud, followed by a rough rub towards the apex of your cunt he sees your navel sink. It turns him on, too much for him to ignore the attention that his cock has been begging. Your palms lay flat on the green of the pool table yet every time he jocks down to have a taste of your arousal your nails dig into the corase of the table. 

As Zayne stands up again, you whimper before saying, “Stop teasing, me. just put it in already. ” The tip of his nose glistens. Does he know that? He licks his lips before responding, “But I haven’t even. . . he trails off because part of him does not wanna scare you by bringing the thought into light that how he has not taken out his cock yet. He has been touching your folds, lapping over your arousal once in a while. You can not see but only hear the lewdity now while Zayne can see that you are so wet that the moss green of the pool table has become dark green. You don’t need to know that, not now.

“Have a little trust in yourself, I know you can take it.” Zayne supplies in a tart manner but actually, he is reminding himself not to cross the thin boundaries too much otherwise he won’t be able to keep his urges at bay. He is under the influence of the same pain as you yet you are so whiny about it which only makes it harder for him to refuse you in this vulnerable needy state. He was just teasing you, flirting ever so slightly to get you comfortable and now he is in deep trenches of pleasuring you. 

But, there is pain underneath. Your body tells him that you want more but he is not sure about himself how long he can keep at it.

Fuck. He can’t. Not anymore. In a series of rough and messy movements, he has his cock out of his pants, aligning to your entrance. One glance and the moment he is inside you he can feel your cunt clench around his cock while your legs wrap around his hips. He can hear the click of your heels as he leans over you, his face in the nook of your neck, not moving but still adjusting to the feeling of your gummy walls wrapped around him but you are so impatient. He feels your wet suck of the lip over his collarbones which denotes his desire for you. As he starts to buck his hips against you, you suddenly think how the design of the ceiling is not boring anymore.

[strwberri-milk]

Hi! Could I request something for lads men? Reader offering to help them put on lotion after a shower (totally not an excuse to run their hands all over those muscles 👀) and maybe giving them a massage too? Thank you!!

Zayne doesn't realise your ill intent until he feels your hands slowly trailing all over his body. It makes him shudder, trying not to think lewdly of the actions you're taking while he still thinks you're doing it out of the goodness of your heart. When your touch begins to linger a little too long he asks you what you think you're doing, stopping when he sees the intent way you're staring at his body.

He decides to let it go, letting you grope him as you please with a mildly amused chuckle. He'll ask if this is really a good use of your time, laughing at how adamantly you nod before continuing to let you touch him. He's going to get his vengeance with time - for now he's more focused on trying to keep his thoughts aware enough with the way you're touching him.

Xavier doesn't understand what you're doing for a second. It takes him a minute of you squeezing and touching him until he realises that your hands aren't really being all that innocent. You can't help but squeeze at his muscles, taking pleasure in his mild gasps as he stares up at you.

He doesn't stop you though. Honestly, as long as it makes you happy he's happy too. He might even guide your hands slightly if it seems that you're shy about touching him, gently convincing you to keep going despite your reservations.

Rafayel catches on sooner, blushing and trying to cover himself from your greedy hands to no avail. It really only takes you a couple of strokes against his body for you to finally crack him down. He complains only a little bit, telling you that you're just taking advantage of him.

That doesn't stop the hiccupping breaths that escape his lips, eyes staring at you intently. You might flush under his attention with how intense he is, him pulling you over him as he coaxes you to keep going.

Sylus catches on practically right away as well, smirking at you as you feel him up. He'll move his muscles around you for you as well, taking delight in the noise of surprise you give him in response. He's basically giving you fan service, gently wrapping his hand around your wrists.

He gently drags your hands down the lines of his chest, telling you that he needs more lotion on his body. You might try to take your hand off of him, deciding you've had enough of playing with him but he doesn't let you. He tells you that you have to finish what you started or else he'll be very disappointed with you.

[lovemebutleavemewild]

Wasn't actually going to do a part 2 to this mafia!Price x pregnant reader drabble but a few people requested it so ...

I don't think this will be a long fic or a series or anything but if anyone has by particular requests for scenes, let me know!

You take the table's orders quickly and almost trip getting away from them.

John follows you immediately, of course, but if you can just get to the kitchen, he won't be able to follow you.

Or so you think.

The doors don't have time to swing shut behind you before they burst open again and you feel a hand on your waist, spinning you around to face him.

"You're taking your break," he tells you.

"I can't yet, I have tables. And-"

You see your manager approaching and brace yourself for the tirade.

"Sir, you can't be in h-"

He stops when he gets a proper look at John.

"Oh. Um, is there a problem, sir? Or some way I can-"

"She's taking her break," John tells him, jerking his thumb at you. Your manager just nods mutely and John takes your hand, leading you out the back entrance.

"Beat it," he tells the line cook, smoking by the bins. The man slinks back inside without a word.

As soon as you're alone, John shepherds you against the wall, arm on either side of you so you're walled in.

"It's mine?" he asks and you try not to be offended. It's a fair question, you suppose. You just nod, looking at your shoes. He tilts your chin up so you're looking at him. You can't read the look on his face.

"Finish your shift. I'll wait."

+++++++

He takes you home, makes the others take a cab wherever they're going, and just gives you a look when you suggest you can take the bus.

He also insists on walking you inside. Your face warms at the way he's analysing your apartment building. When you hold the door to your place open for him, he rubs his hand along the doorframe, studying the lock, heads straight for the windows to do the same once he's inside.

"We'll need to get you moved out of here," he says when he finally turns around. You raise  your eyebrows.

"Is that right?" you ask. If he notices the sarcasm, he doesn't comment.

"Mmmhmm. Could get the lads to pack up your stuff for you, handle the movin'. We could have it done tonight"

"And where do you suggest I go?"

John smiles and sidles towards you.

"I could think of a few places," he says, raising his eyebrows. You huff a laugh.

"Hmm. But there's nothing wrong with my apartment."

John just hums.

"Not a good area," he tells you.

You start to feel your temper rise a little.

"Think whatever you want of the area; You don't get to walk in here and tell me-"

"Well I am telling you darlin'. I know these parts and 'round here isn't a good place for a girl like you."

"A girl like me?" you ask flatly, crossing your arms. You force yourself not to move away from him as he gets in your space. You can smell him from here, the scent of his cologne, and doesn't that bring back memories.

He leans down so he's looking into your eyes properly.

"A good girl," he says.

You snort and turn away.

"Does that line usually work for you?"

In a second, you feel his hands on your waist, pulling you back against a hard chest.

"Worked before, didn't it?" His voice is raspy in your ear.

"You didn't mind being my good girl the last time we spoke, did ya, sweetheart? Or can you only be good when you're stuffed full?"

He presses harder against your back and you can feel the length of him now.

"'Cause I can help you with that, love, just you say the word."

You pull away, turn to look at him, with your chest heaving.

"Place like this could be dangerous for a girl like you," John says and it sounds like a warning.

"Aren't men like you what makes places like this dangerous?" you whisper.

He steps towards you again, slower this time, puts a hand on your hip. You don't pull away.

"Sometimes," he admits. "Not always. Need to make sure you're taken care of, from all the bad things out there. Goes for both of you."

"I don't need taken care of," you tell him. It would sound more convincing to your own ears if you could find it in yourself to pull your hand off his chest.

"No?" His hand suddenly dips between your legs and you jolt forwards into him.

"You been taking care of yourself here, hmm?" He starts to rub, over your work leggings, leans down so his head is nearly on your shoulder.

"Been taking care of this pretty pussy like it needs?" he asks, voice rough. "It was so needy that night we met, I was sure we'd go a few rounds. Why'd you run instead, sweetheart? I didn't even get a chance to taste it."

You can't answer, can't think, especially not when he shoves his same hand under your pants, sliding your underwear to one side for better access. Your head falls back when he touches your clit.

"Need me to take of you here, darlin'?"

You can't help your moan.

"Not good enough," he grunts. "Need you to say it, love. Say you need me to take care of this pussy."

And you've been so stressed for so long and, really, at this point, what harm could it possibly do?

"Please, please, John, I need you. I need-need-"

He quietens you with a kiss, leaning down to lift you by your thighs. The bump makes it a bit awkward but he doesn't falter as he makes his way to your room.

"All you needed to say, mama."

[tbaluver]

Hi! I love your work and this is my first time requesting.. so please ignore if not interested! ♡

the roles are reversed and you are their favorite character and the LADS boys are the player! That’s all I hope you have a good day/night!~ 💗

When They're The MC- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: slight suggestive content below otherwise fluff ! a/n: hihi anonnie ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ thank you so much for requesting this was such a cute request (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) i hope this was alright and if it wasn't pretend it doesnt exist ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) otherwise i hope to see you again soon anonnie ! enjoy reading ! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Xavier is the type of player to listen to your secret times or tender moments and fall asleep listening to your voice. He likes to imagine you’re right beside him before he falls into his peaceful slumber.

However he does get hard listening to your suggestive audio or scenes that play out.

Spends most of his time grinding out materials for your memories so your character is strong when he reaches end game. Almost has your DeepSpace Trial finished and your affinity level maxed.

Ignores all the calls and text messages of the other main leads except yours.

When he runs out of content for you in the game, he would find solitude on watching edits or reading fanfics of you until the game finally updates its lore for you. Sometimes he'll replay the kindle moments of his favorite cards of you, which is literally all of them.

Zayne:

Nobody expected Zayne to be the type to play this game and at first, neither did he. But he downloaded the game out of curiosity and ended up playing until he reached the end game.

He has your affinity almost maxed out while the rest of the other leads are lower level. He would know all of your lore and has read all of your anecdotes without skipping them for the gems.

Uses the quality time to keep track of his studies but he can’t help but often glance at his screen and find you glancing back at him as well.

He has the Aurum Pass Premium and saves all of his diamonds for your upcoming banners. Does not even bother checking any of the other main leads in the game unless the banner included you

He ONLY plays this game in his room or whenever he's alone. Even though he has his headphones in, he can't help but look around to make sure nobody heard any of your suggestive sounds that sounded like a breathy moan. His ears would turn so red and he can't help but find his hand sliding down his pants

Rafayel:

The type of player that took hours customizing his character to make sure it looks exactly like him. He spends a lot of time with his character and yours in the photo booth. He tries to do a lot of glitches so it looks like you guys are kissing or hugging or him hitting it from the back.

The type that never lets you have a turn at the claw machine. If you managed to have a turn first, he’s IMMEDIATELY requesting to have the next turn. Yes, he thinks your pout is cute whenever you don’t get the plushie but he is NOT wasting any affinity points.

He would use all of his daily emojis just to talk to you and pokes you a lot in the cafe until you get annoyed.

The type to make the most beautiful fanart of you and make the most entertaining edits of you on social media. The type to freak out when he hears your solo banner is coming. He’s literally kicking his feet and rolling around in his bed in excitement

Sylus:

Sylus wasn’t interested in the game at first until your trailer kept popping up and out of curiosity and interest in your character, he decided to try it.

He became the BIGGEST spender when it comes to only your character. He would have all your cards maxed out from the levels and to the protocores. Each card he has of you would be ranked up to level 3 and most of your five stars are awakened. He has all your outfits and all of your poses.

However he would have the biggest frown on his face when he loses his pity the first couple of pulls. That’s not going to stop him until he has all your memories.

He is the type to tease your character by touching you a lot in the cafe to the point you're crossing your arms with a pout and your cheeks are flushed.

Spends a while in the photobooth to stare at your chest or you characters butt. Shamelessly tries to do a couple dirty glitches and the thought of you being real wouldn't leave his mind

Bonus: They all hate Lemonette.

[ellecdc]

i come barring a request for a poly!marauders🫡📃

idk you ever do this with ur cat but when mine meows at me i respond back and pretend we’re having a full conversation, and now imagine reader this with her cat and she’s roommates with lily so she’s used to but then the boys see they’re all thrown off and slightly worried.

now i bid you good day my lady 🫡

I've had this blurb like half finished for a while, but since we were all talking about our fur babies today, I thought it'd be perfect to finish and post! thanks for this cute request - hope it's what you were looking for

poly!marauders x fem!reader who talks to her cat

Remus felt sort of bad for Lily at the way the boys all deflated when it had been her who opened the door to your shared flat instead of you. Thankfully, the red-head just laughed and invited them all in.

“Sorry to disappoint boys.” She jested as they all made themselves at home on your couch.

“Oh, we’re always happy to see you, Lily.” James said at the same time as Sirius grumbled “you should be”, earning him a pinch in the ribs by Remus.

“Hey!” Lily called down the hall. “The boys are here!”

Remus winced at a painful sounding thump and a muffled. “Okay thanks! I’m almost ready!”

The boys were very excited, if James’ knee bouncing and Sirius’ impish smirk wasn’t obvious enough. Lily had been gushing about how sweet her new roommate was and how she thought you’d get along really well with the group of friends, and she’d been right. You came to two pub nights and the boys were hooked; constantly asking Lily for updates and if you’d be at the next one.

Lily had grown so tired of playing messenger that she asked you if she could give them your phone number, to which you had agreed.

The four of you had been in a group chat for nearly a month and a half before they felt brave enough to ask you out on an official date.

“Where are you guys going tonight?” Lily asked as she sat in an armchair in the living area where the boys were waiting.

“We’re going to the pub on 42nd.” James answered readily. 

“The one with the board games and vintage video games?” Lily clarified. 

“Yup. That way there’s something for us to do if conversation lulls, and something for James to do with his hands.” Sirius explained teasingly, causing James to blush and lean into his side as if he were trying to hide inside of Sirius’ smaller frame.

“Don’t tease the lad.” Lily admonished playfully. “He’s already likely nervous enough. I don’t think you lot have to worry about tonight though; conversation never lulls with her around.”

Remus tilted his head in bemusement at Lily’s comment but never got to ask for clarification before he heard some muttering.

“Would you stop that?” He could hear you mutter quietly; barely any ire detected in your tone.

“Please don’t do this, I’m already late.” You begged before a big crash took place. “For fuck’s sa- why.” 

“You’re not allowed to get ready with me anymore.” You declared to your bedroom. Remus shared a look with Sirius and James before turning towards Lily who only shook her head and brought her finger to her lips. 

“Don’t look at me like that!” You carried on. “If you want to be here to see me off, you need to behave yourself.”

It was quiet for a few moments. “No, knocking over my jewelry stand is not behaving.”

They listened to you shuffling around before you let out a big sigh. “I love you too, but you are stressing me out. Do you want to watch shows with Lily tonight while I’m gone? Hm? Let’s go ask.”

Finally, you exited your room and made your way down the hall, entering the living area before pausing to take in the fact that the four occupants of your flat were all staring at you with varying levels of bemusement and amusement. 

And trotting happily behind you was a small cat seemingly none the wiser to the fact that it just made its mistress look like a fool in front of her dates.

You chuckled awkwardly. “How much did you hear?”

Lily snorted and pat her legs as an invitation for your feline friend, who happily agreed, hopping and curling up on the red-head’s lap. 

“Enough to know that knocking over your jewelry stand is not behaving.” Sirius teased salaciously. 

You groaned and moved to cover your face with your hands, but James was having none of that and quickly made for you.

“Don’t hide that beautiful face from us; it’d be a shame if the only one who got to appreciate your date night look was your cat.” He commented as he gently pulled your hands away from your face.

You still looked awfully embarrassed but acquiesced. “A bad cat, at that.” You spat to the ball of fur currently sitting with your roommate without any real malice. 

“Oi!” Lily defended quickly, brushing broad strokes over the cat like the villain from Austin Powers. “Don’t speak ill of Princess Bernadette the Third.”

“Princess Bernadette?” Sirius asked bewilderedly at the same time as James murmured “the Third?”

“Birdie, Lily. My cat’s name is Birdie.” You corrected, not at all amused. 

Lily raised her nose in the air. “When we stay home to watch Bridgerton without you lot, she’s Princess Bernadette the Third. Now off with you, we have Ball’s to attend, and you have gentlemen to court.” 

Remus watched with a loving smile as you flushed furiously at that, laughing when it only deepened as Sirius suddenly stood and made his way for you, bowing with a flourish and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Shall we, m’lady?”

You gave him an eye roll but Remus could tell it was mostly for show as you bore a sickeningly sweet smile and accepted James’ elbow as you made your way to the door.

“Have fun you guys!” Lily called towards the door as Remus bent down to scritch Birdie on the chin.

“You too, Princess Bernadette, Princess Lillith.” He offered with his most posh accent and a quick bow before joining his two boyfriends and their date at the door.

[zhongrin]

spending your weekend with...

© zhongrin | 2024 ✼  [✘] no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. [✓] rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley, jing yuan, blade

✼ tags ┈ fluff, established relationship, more fluff, your honor they’re all so whipped it’s cringe /silly

✼ a/n ┈ she lives!!! and oop, off she goes back into hermit mode after posting-

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

... the husband of all husbands, zhongli ー your feet walking along the familiar path of nature's trails and having picnics between the green-yellow grass of liyue’s vast fields. pretend you don't see a familiar shade of seafoam-tinged feathers flying past into the dense leaves of the trees adjacent to the one you take refuge under. maybe one of these days, the yaksha will finally accept your invitation to have a family dinner in your abode.

delving into the harbor's market, buying groceries and getting sidetracked by knickknacks. too many times, you've let the mora in your pouches pass across the merchant's for yet another antique teapot or an accessory you can never seem to have enough of. perhaps a dragon's hoarding nature is contagious to its partner? either way, you never fail to finish up at night with tea served in delicate glazed earthenware, brewed by your husband's expert hands. and if those same hands decide to spoil you further as you both cuddle in your nest-bed, even better, no?

... your al haitham, who, on rare occasions, would have a junior akademiya scholar approach him while you were out, in hope to acquaint themselves with the former acting grand sage. he's always quick to shut them down, the bluntness of his words deterring the situation to progress further. you think you see him smirk when the poor lad scurries away, but as he returns towards your side, his hand finds home around yours and all is forgotten.

a café isn't exactly a place he would choose to frequent on a crowded weekend. but the coffee's good, and you seem content as you chatter across the table. while it's scientifically impossible and irrational, there's just something in your voice that seems to create a vacuum bubble that allows him to focus on your endearing rambles. he listens, and he thinks he should record you talking, just so he can play them in his soundproofing headphones whenever.

... the one and only duke in fontaine, wriothesley, who follows you around like a loyal guard dog. it's probably thanks to you that he's not growing shrooms on his fur jacket from all the time he spent down in the damp fortress underwater. you take him shopping, persuade him to try out coffee, sample some foods that isn’t wolsey’s cooking… and if you so happen to bump into your friends, you're both usually always more than happy to adjust your schedule ー a sudden tabletop game session with clorinde and forcing persuading neuvillette to perform dereliction of his duties for a moment to relax are a few examples.

but above all, his favorite has to be bringing some snacks to sit down under a tree with you, watching fontainian poodles frolic around the dog park. maybe one day you'll have a puppy of your own, but for now, your beloved is ‘content with just you’, he says with a cheeky grin.

... your dozing general-arbiter whose brain seems to only want sleep and cuddles whenever the week starts to wind down. waking up to jing yuan who’s akin to a very sleepy big cat draped over your body using you as a pillow is how you would always start your weekend, and it's only at these peaceful moments that the man turns into a heavy sleeper. had he been a real lion, you think he might be purring up a storm as he snoozes, pillowed shamelessly against your chest.

your lover prefers a slow, lazy day with you whenever he has the rare time to take himself out of his duties, and naturally his free weekends are included in this. maybe start with a morning cuddle (in bed), a nap (in bed), both of you cooking lunch (in the kitchen), another nap (maybe on the recliner sofa because why not), a leisure night walk around aurum alley, and a night cuddle (yes. again. in bed)? hmm. yes, that sounds perfect.

... blade, who doesn't exactly have 'weekends', per se. chances are, he doesn't even know what day today is. plus, there's no guarantee that you were with him if he's away on a mission, anyway. but when you were around? you have his full (nonverbal) permission to drag him wherever and to do whatever you want.

you want to travel to the nearest planet for a bottle of soulglad when everyone else is asleep? pick a ship, he'll steer. you want to have a spa day and pamper yourselves senseless, braid his hair while you both have an overpriced face masks on? a useless act for him, especially considering his circumstances, but he'll massage your head if you give him enough puppy eyes. you just want to rot in bed and contemplate your existence? as long as you let him lay his head on your chest so he can hear your heartbeat, he’s good. either this man does not realize how much you have him wrapped around your finger, or he just does not care. it’s probably the latter.

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈

@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths

@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader

@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie

@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone

@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee

@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc

@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer ! @euniveve ! @centralballad

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS: Carpet and Drapes | NSFW

Anyways I've been wanting to shave their pubes for a while, and tons of people I talk to agree with that statement so here we are. Shaving their pubes. Only quality content for y'all.

❧ Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. ❧ Warnings: Shaving Pubic Area, Slight Oral, Teasing, Suggestive Tones, Hand Jobs, Nothing is overly detailed since they're so short, Comedy ❧ Pairings: Sylus/Reader, Zayne/Reader, Rafayel/Reader, Xavier/Reader

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Xavier knew he was whipped. He knew that if you suggested anything, he’d probably allow it. This, however, was new territory. You had asked if you could shave him. At first he was confused because it’s not like he had facial hair, so what exactly are you shaving? Then your eyes had trailed down to his groin, and he had to pause for a moment, and he realized what you had meant when you said ‘shave him.’

It’s not like he was against being shaved down there. The only reason he didn’t do it himself was due to it being an extra step in the shower, and it’s not like you seemed to mind. Hell, you had even commented once that his pubes were way softer than normal. It wasn’t something he thought about, but if you said it was, then he was going to believe you. With that in mind, it gave him slight whiplash when you wanted to shave it now off, but he still found himself going along with your whims…yet again.

“Are you certain this is a good idea…?” Xavier asked after a moment as you looked up at him. You had already trimmed the hair back to make it easier before you got in the shower, and now he was cornered with water streaming down his chest. His back was against the cool tile as your hand smoothed some shaving cream over him. He gasped as he felt your hand getting a bit too close to his more intimate areas.

“I promise I won’t knick you.” Okay, so maybe it was your first time shaving someone else’s pubes, but it couldn’t be that hard…could it? Hell, you even had a safety razor. Surely nothing could go wrong. He could already feel how his body reacted to your touch, and he had to hold himself still as the razor finally made contact with him. It was easy with how soft his pubes were, the razor effortlessly gliding against his skin.

He allowed you to work; after all, you seemed to be focused on your task as you moved the skin to be taut. You were moving his thighs apart to get better angles, all while breathing over him. You looked up and noticed the flew of the muscles of his stomach and how they tensed up here and there. You could also see him getting a bit hard, his dick only half erect as you did this.

“Xavier,” you cooed, your eyes glancing up at him, “You doing good?” you said as you finished shaving the central area. Your hand pressed down on his cock so you could get a better shave right above it. You heard him let out a gentle sigh at you touching him; his cheeks were completely flushed at the moment, and he looked adorable like this.

“Ya, I’m doing good.” He muttered, knowing you had noticed his current state, “I promise, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine, Xavie. I would almost be offended if you weren’t getting hard with me between your thighs like this.” You said, letting the cascading water hit his now shaved pubes to wash off the rest of the shaving cream, “How about after I put on some aftershave, I help you out with your current problem?” you asked him, and he groaned at what you were implying. To add the cherry on top, you picked his dick up and placed it against your lips. You gently licked the tip, making him whimper and gasp at the sudden feeling. You smirked as you leaned over and kissed his smooth pubic mound.

“Alright…now bend over.” You said, and he paused, looking down at you with lidded eyes, “What? You thought I was just shaving this part, dear? Come on, spread them cheeks.”

“I…think I liked what you were doing earlier better.” He muttered, and you chuckled. He really was whipped.

Zayne

He didn’t know why you wanted to do this; after all, he was always shaved down there. You seemed too intent on doing this, so he just said okay. Sugaring. It didn’t seem like it would be that bad. You did tell him he would need to go a few days without shaving his pubes, something that he was struggling with. A week later, though, you decided it was long enough, the hairs being the length of rice grains.

You had set him down on his couch as you gathered the supplies. A jar of homemade sugaring wax was next to you as you prepped his skin. “Have you done this before?” he finally asked as you looked up at him.

“On my legs, yes. Yes, I have.” You said as you grabbed an applicator and scooped some of the substance up.

“So you’ve never done this in your pubic area before?” he asked, watching as you smeared the sugaring wax thickly onto the pubic mound. You hummed as you looked up at him. You went and kissed his inner thigh, and the man huffed at the action. Of course, you weren’t going to answer him. Instead, you used flicking motions to rip the hair out. Zayne let out a small hiss at the pain, closing his eyes for a moment as he realized what he had gotten himself into.

“See, it’s not that bad.” You said you are applying some more to a new area. Zayne felt himself relaxing for a moment as he looked down at you. His hand went to your hair, pushing some of it aside for a moment so he could get a good look at you. You blinked at him and then chuckled as you grabbed his hand and kissed the palm.

“The pain can be…subjective.” He finally got out, letting out another grunt as you flicked some of it off again. You repeated this motion until his entire pubic area was finished. Your hand smoothed over the area and noticed how it was perfectly free of hair. The skin itself even felt silky under your fingers as you drew little designs with your fingertips. Zayne cleared his throat to get your attention, “Is that really necessary?”

“Feel it.” You said, taking his hand and placing it over the area. He was flushed now as he felt the skin there, noticing how it was very smooth as he looked at you.

“This is what you wanted, I assume?” he asked, and you nodded your head. You kissed the mound there and finally looked down to see his dick was halfway hard. You took it in your hand and pumped it for a moment, watching as his almost judging gaze turned lidded the moment your warm hand was on him.

“We’re not done yet; why are you so hard already, my love?” You asked as you continued playing with it. Zayne rose a brow as he went to ask you exactly what you meant. Before he could speak, though, he felt your hand trailing down past his balls and right where his entrance was. He let out a gasp, then a small glare.

“Absolutely not.” He said, and you whined and kissed his thighs, “No.” He tried saying, but your hand was still playing with him.

“What if I made you cum before I did it?” you asked, and he rolled his eyes and bit down on his lip. You were making it very hard for him to think clearly right now.

“Why do you want to wax there?” he asked, and you chuckled as you went to lick a stripe up his dick. He groaned, wanting for you to just engulf his length already. This was almost teasing him too much right now. After the pain he had endured, it would be nice to feel some pleasure if you’d be willing to tonight.

“Because you sometimes miss spots since you can’t see it, but I can.” He looked even redder now as he looked away. You chuckled, “It’s fine, it’s not like I mind the hair, but I know you do. Please?” you asked, letting go of his cock for a moment.

Zayne looked down at you, then up at the ceiling, “Fine…”

Rafayel

“Put your leg over my shoulder already…” you muttered, nudging Rafayel’s thigh with your cheek. He let out a small groan as he adjusted his leg so it was now over your shoulder. He was watching you like a hawk as you lay down on your stomach. Your breath was ghosting along his crotch with every exhale, and it had him squirming, “And be still; I don’t want to cut you.” You sighed this time but smirked.

“How am I supposed to just be still like this?” he asked as he watched you use a straight razor along his pubic mound. You were working so hard to draw a little heart shape on there, and it had him shuffling a little bit underneath you. “I agreed to let you shave me, but this position is…” he muttered.

Your hand was currently pressing his dick out of your way. Occasionally, you’d feel it twitch under your palm. The man was hard before you had even gotten on your stomach for this; his reaction to you touching him and telling him how pretty he was had him riled up. “I know you can do it.” You said as you kissed his thigh, and he let out another lovely moan.

“Are you almost done?” he asked, looking at your work. It was a heart shape right in the middle of his pubic mound, and it was right above where the base of his cock was. You had made him so damn smooth with that razor, and it looked done now.

“Well, I still have more to shave after this.” You said, pushing his other leg open a but so you could get the inner thigh area. He let out a huff as he watched you.

“And where exactly do you still need to shave after this?” he said as he watched you close the straight razor handle. It was clear you were done with at least this area. You let go of his dick and looked at his now-hard dick. You moved it upwards as you used your now free hand to push him down to where he was lying there.

“I still need to get your booty.” You said, and you were immediately hearing protests as he tried to sit up. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting that to be coming out of your mouth.

“You are not bringing a razor there.” He said as he attempted to wiggle free from your grasp. You decided to squeeze the base of his cock, making a small whimper escape him as his body went slack against the mattress.

“You said I could shave everywhere, Raf,” you comment, and he lets out a groan as you begin working your hand over his dick, collecting some of the pre cum that had gathered at the tip, “This is part of that.”

He looked at you like you were crazy from his angle as his leg dropped from your shoulder, “I thought you meant my legs or something, not my…” he said, not even being able to get the words out. You adored how the man never cursed around you; hell, you weren’t even sure if he cussed around anyone.

“Ass. Shaving your ass is what I meant.” You said, and he looked away, his face now a beat red. “Besides, how am I gonna shave your legs? You barely have any leg hair. All your hair grows on your head and in your pubic area.”

“Ya, and not my-ugh, you’re the worst. Bully. How dare you.” He said, and you laughed. In truth, he didn’t have a hair ass at all, but seeing his reactions were priceless.

“Let me shave it so I can eat it later.” You said, grabbing the razor and opening it back up.

“So you can what?!”

Sylus

When you mentioned wanting to do wax play with Sylus, he didn’t think you meant…like this. He had understood what you were planning only when it was too late. While he did keep everything trimmed and neat, he was never bald down there. Yet here you were, preparing to take all his hair off in one of the most painful ways he could imagine.

“Kitten, are you certain this is how you want to play tonight?” he asked as you got the wax nice and warm. You had gone so far as grabbing a nice wax pot on his dime and plugging it in with wax specifically for the pubic area.

“This is exactly how I want the night to go.” You said, grabbing some wax sticks and strips, “Now lay back down.” You said as you pushed down on his chest. He chuckled but went along with it. If this is what you want to do, then so be it. Not like he was going to shy away from something as simple as waxing.

He felt you placing some of the wax on him, then smoothing a strip over him, “If you had told me you preferred no hair, I would’ve shaved.” He commented as you placed your hand on the edge of the strip.

“It’s not that I have a preference for your pubic hair, Sy.” You said and then ripped the strip off. You heard him grunt from the sudden sting of having his hair literally ripped out, “I just had the urge to wax you one day, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” You confessed as your hand pressed down on the reddened skin to help with the sting. You then moved to grab a new wax stick and dipped it into the pot.

“Your mind is truly a…magical place, sweetie.” He chuckled as he felt the warm wax smoothing over him. This time, it didn’t hurt as much since he was mentally prepared for the kind of pain it would be. He couldn’t stop the hiss that escaped him or how his dick was getting hard and twitching. You noticed it right away as you grabbed another wax stick after throwing away the used strip.

“Didn’t expect you to get hard this fast.” You said as you smoothed more over him. You pressed his hardening dick out of the way so it wouldn’t bother you while you worked. “You’re such a masochist.” That got a laugh out of him.

“Pain and pleasure can often go hand in hand. How can I not get riled up when I have my lover between my legs?” he asked, and you flushed a bit as you ripped off more. This time, Sylus actually moaned, making sure you heard just how much he was enjoying this. It was something you had expected and were kind of hoping for.

“Maybe once we’re done, I can show you nothing but pleasure. Unless you cum just from this.” You tease him. Just those strips had almost gotten all of the main areas as you pushed his legs apart so you could get the edges.

“Oh, did you want to see how smooth of a ride it would be after?” The way he stated it had you choking on air before glaring up at him with flushed cheeks.

“Shut up…you know, just for that, imma wax your ass.” You said with a huff. The man didn’t seem disturbed as he raised his eyebrow.

“Did you want a better view for when you-“You cut him off with a slap along his inner thigh? He was fully amused as you leaned in and bit down on his thigh, watching as he flinched from the harsh treatment.

“I swear if there anything that gets you flustered…?” you knew it was possible, but you swore it was hard as all hell. The man didn’t really know shame when it came to you.

“Perhaps if you call me pretty,” he said sarcastically.

“Fine, pretty bird, once we finish up here, maybe I’ll take you for a ride then. Sound better?” you could see the actual blush on his cheeks. No way…is was that fucking easy.

[princeguri66]

Can I ask for a 141 x male reader who acts like a mom to them? Just reader being prepared for anything even in the middle of a mission, giving them snacks and predicting their problems

Aww wait that's such a cute concept though ♪⁠～⁠(⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠) apologies if this isn't exactly what you were hoping for but these were what I could come up with.

I like to think reader here would be older than them, either the same age as price or just a bit older. And like a bear too.

Being in the game for so long you've developed these sort of "instincts"

Price introduced you to the team as his friend from his earlier days in the military. Says that you'll be part of the team for a while so he hopes you all get along well.

And you do, spending so much time with the team has let them warm up to you and get comfortable with you. Makes your urge to take care of them unleash.

You sitting next to Gaz in the helly heading to a mission and he comments how he wished he had more to eat earlier. You pulling out a granola bar from one of your many pockets and handing it to him, Gaz looking at you as if to ask "are you sure?" And you just reply with a nod and a soft smile, Gaz taking it with a grin on his face as he eats it. And once he finishes it you take another one out of the same pocket and ask "are you still hungry?"

He keeps eating whatever you offer and as you start to get worried wether this kid has been eating enough or not he says "thank you, sir. I feel better" with a crumby smile.

You huff fondly "got something on your cheek there sweety" and lick your thumb to clean his cheek. Him trying to contain the blood running to his cheeks because it's embarrassing.

Just chilling with Soap as you both clean your weapons. Hearing him go "ouch" as he clicks his tongue. "What's wrong lad?" You ask him as you look up from cleaning your gun.

He looks up at you after cleaning his knife "Accidentally sliced a bit of my finger, it's no big deal"

You respond with a nod and walk over to him and kneel Infront of him to hold his hand, inspecting the little cut on his finger. You pull out a spiderman themed bandaid and place it on the wound. Giving it a small kiss then saying "all done" as you look up at him and walk back to where you were previously cleaning your gun.

You bet your ass everytime he gets a small boo-boo he's going to be looking for you all over base for another colorful bandaid and another healing kiss.

Taking care of Ghost as he sits on the bed since he insisted that he was fine (but it's so obvious that he isn't) patching up his wounds with normal gauze and placing colorful character themed bandaids on top. As you finish up you gently rub his arm in a comforting motion, silently telling him that everything's ok and that everyone is fine. Wanting him to know that if he's too stubborn for actual professional care you'll make do.

You stand back to look over him, checking that you haven't missed anything. If he's got a wound on his face then he'll just have to take care of it himself. You step forward and rest your hand on his cheek, your warmth phasing through his mask. "You alright sweety?" You ask him in a gentle tone and all he can do is let out a shaky sigh and lean forward, resting his head on your Stomach. You gently wrap your hands around his head and start rubbing his back. It seems like he really needed this kind of comfort.

And don't think just because Price is closer to your age doesn't mean he gets out of being taken care of.

Being a friend of him for years makes you aware of his bad habits with overworking and lack of sleep schedule. One night you finally decide to put a stop to it after seeing rays of light seeping through the crack of his office door. You don't even knock, just opening it and standing right in front of his desk, crossing your arms you look at him with a questioning glare.

And Price knows that look, experienced it so many times and now that you're both in the same squad again he hopes to feel that comfort that you seem to always carry with you. You scold him for overworking till late at night and drag him out of his office and into his room. You throw him on to his bed and tuck him in, you lean close to his face and his eyes are full of adoration, for taking care of him all these years and now taking care of his team. You place a kiss on his forehead and he just melts. He missed this, and he's so glad the rest of his team can experience your care as well.

As he hears you leave and close the door behind you with a resounding click, he thinks to himself on how nice it would be to have you with them for even longer. And he's sure the rest are thinking the same thing.

(You'd be delighted if you could take care of them for longer as well)

[mindmelter]

A Body Stealer Tale: At The Metro

"He's perfect, look at the bulge in his shorts. I want you to wear him, Pres," Luke said to his boyfriend, Preston, referring to the muscular sleeping hunk in front of them.

"I was thinking the same, the guy is packing," Preston said with a smirk. He stood up and suddenly everyone inside the car stopped moving, leaving only Luke and Preston unaffected. Time didn't stop, as the car was still running, Preston had only frozen the people inside it.

He glanced back at his boyfriend, and Luke responded with a reassuring nod. Preston started to undress, when he was completely naked, he stood in front of the sleeping hunk and with his two hands, started to stretch open the hunk's mouth, opening it in an unnatural way as if the man was made of elastic.

Preston looked at his boyfriend, who was watching everything behind him with a huge smile. "I will try to make it sexy since I know you love watching this part," Preston stretched more of the hunk's mouth and slipped his right foot inside. The hunk continued looking peaceful even with a strange man with half his leg inserted into his body.

Luke was hard as he watched his boyfriend forcing his body inside the unsuspected hunk, he loved watching this part, it was the most erotic thing for him. After a few minutes, Preston finally slipped the hunk's handsome face over his and smirked at Luke, who had his pants down and his hard cock in his hand.

Luke watched as the muscular hunk stood up and walked over to him with a grin, kneeling between his legs. "Did you like watching your boyfriend wearing my muscles like a fucking shirt? You fucking freak," The hunk said, his voice was deep and powerful.

"You look so good wearing this guy, Pres"

The hunk smirked, he grabbed Luke's throbbing cock and started sucking him, making Luke moan loudly. The only sounds he could hear were the car's engine running and the slurping noises coming from the hunk deep-throating him.

"B-babe... I'm gonna cum, let me cum on his face," Luke moaned, pushing the hunk off his cock, aiming it at his face and starting to cum, coating the hunk's handsome face with his thick powerful cum.

The hunk just smirked, he cooped some of the cum and sucked his fingers clean. "I like this one, I can't wait to test out his ass," The hunk said, standing up and giving his ass a hard slap, he then turned to look at Luke. "Now is your turn, who are you're gonna pick?"

Luke glanced at the passengers' faces and noticed a handsome young man, frozen in motion like everyone else around him, as he stared at his phone.

Luke walked to the handsome young man and lifted his unmoving head to give his face a proper look. "I will wear this one."

"Good choice, the kid does have a nice package,"

Luke didn't have the powers of a body stealer like his boyfriend had, Preston had the power to turn everyone around him into a wearable bodysuit for a short period, right now everyone inside the car was a bodysuit, but in the end, when Preston turned off his powers, those who weren't worn would go back to normal.

Luke stretched open the young man's mouth and started sliding inside. When he finished putting on his new body, he sat back and pulled down his white shorts to reveal his new big cock. He gave his new shaft a few strokes and soon was spotting a massive throbbing cock, he swung it proudly to his boyfriend.

"You better get on here and ride me, I will destroy your new tight straight hole with this lad's cock," Luke ordered, his voice now a lot more juvenile.

Preston walked to him, his bodysuit being bigger and taller than Luke's bodysuit. Preston pulled down his shorts and slowly sat on Luke's bodysuit's throbbing cock. Preston started to fuck himself with the strength that came with his bodysuit, his ass pressing against Luke's bodysuit's smaller thighs.

"Oooh fuck yeah, babe! Fuck this tight straight ass on this lad's cock! AAARRGHH FUUUCKKKK...." Preston's new massive cock started to shoot cum all over the car's floor, Luke also came right after him.

They both were panting, with Preston lying his back on Luke's body, they both shared a long and sloppy kiss while Luke's cock was still inside Preston. Suddenly, they heard the automated announcement come through the speakers.

"Attention passengers, we are now approaching Lunar Bay Station. This is the final stop on this line. Please make sure to take all personal belongings with you as you exit the train."

Luke and Preston sat back to where their bodysuits were originally sitting, and suddenly everyone in the car started moving again, completely unaware of the loss of time. When they arrived at the station, before walking out of the car, the muscular tattooed hunk winked at the handsome young man. The young man followed right after him with a visible hard-on in his tight white shorts.

The car's door closed behind them; four men had walked in, but only two walked out.

[koralcove]

APT.

synopsis: what the current lads men's reaction would be when they find out you've been obsessed and bopping to this song (and how they would handle lss when it hits them).

a/n: this song has been bouncing in my mind as i was taking a shower, and then bam! brainrot was born.

xavier

he was headed to your place, coming back from the bakery as his nose directed him to a delicious scent and decided to purchase a seasonal pastry. his first thought when he purchased the tasty treat was to share it with you.

he's standing in front of your door. a few minutes have already passed, and you still haven't come to answer. on his last knock, he decides that he'll just invite himself in. opening the door, he's greeted by the sound of a beat coming from your kitchen.

as he nears your kitchen, the song comes in full blast from your speaker, the catchy rhythm reverberating around the room and into your bones, evident from the jolly wiggle of your shoulders and hips as your body moves to the beat.

you're currently washing your dishes right now, and you seem to be a bit sidetracked and spellbound by the music, occasionally stopping to soap a dish but mainly getting carried away by music as your body bops to it.

the song is apparently on loop, probably an intentional decision given from the never-ending delight of your body and expression as it keeps playing in the background, with you still unaware of his presence.

halfway through the third loop of the song, you do a little turn and scream as you finally notice xavier's presence by the threshold, soapy hand clutching on the spoon in your hand. judging from the subtle smugness and amusement in his eyes, he's been here for a while, spying quietly on your little display.

"xavier! what the fu... how long have you been there?!"

"long enough to find out that you put the song on loop. this has been the third time it's played."

your ears burn at the horrifying knowledge that he's seen enough of the little 'concert' you had.

you shoo him away from the kitchen, asking why he's there in the first place. he tells you of his little detour before going home and has picked up a pastry to share with you. you tell him to wait by the living room as you finish up the dishes, though you take your time in the kitchen to cool down, speaker now turned off and ears still burning in mortification.

once you're done, you avoid meeting his gaze as you sit down, taking the pastry he offered you. you sit stiffly, body language evidently awkward, and it doesn't help that xavier's eyes bore into you, pressuring your form.

"what?" you mumble, still not meeting his eyes.

"nothing. just visualising your dancing again."

you stop chewing, mouth agape as your eyes snap to his. you groan, lightly kicking his leg. "you weren't even suppose to see that! and isn't it a violation for someone to just walk into someone else's home while they're vulnerable? and talk about you spying too..."

"well, someone couldn't hear me knocking because their music was on blast and they were busy dancing, so i decided to let myself in." amusement dances on his gaze as he sees your face cringe.

from that day on, you made sure to always be alert with the door, especially when it came to xavier. you're suddenly doubting the decision of letting himself feel welcomed into your place...

he didn't let that slide for a few days, and though his teasings were subtle, it always manages to hit the nail in the coffin with his implications.

"your swordsmanship is getting better, although i'd say i'd prefer to see you doing your little dances right now instead."

"you want to do the dishes? am i going to see another concert from you?"

"i'll help you with that. you wouldn't want to get sidetracked with how lively the music is."

he finds himself humming the tune sometimes, but it was never within your vicinity. he was holding consideration for you, because although the blush creeping up on you and the scrunch of your face from the memory was adorable, he wouldn't want you to feel as if he was mocking you and making you uncomfortable around him.

one thing he'd never let you know, though, was the video of you that he secretly recorded. it never fails to bring a smile on his face and light his heart up with the way you were so lost into the music, your expression one of concentrated joy as you feel through the song, along with your adorable dancing too.

---

zayne

on a particular day, he had noticed you humming the same tune and repeating the same lyrics.

at first, he thought it was some form of incantation and wondered if you'd had any encounters with a wanderer that had anything to affect your functioning.

"apt, apt, apt, apt..."

zayne had to give you a quick check up to see if anything else has affected you. his suspicions were abated when he heard the following tune of your chanting. turns out, it was only a case of last song syndrome.

he found your little hummings endearing, especially when it's paired with the slight bop of your head, probably recreating the beat in your mind.

he doesn't mind it much, but a few days later as he's shopping, he hears a familiar chant and melody playing in the background. it turns out, it's a popular song, and as he listens to it intently, he can understand how the catchy rhythm seems to worm its way into your head.

at this point, with his knowledge of the song and your repeated hums and soft singing of the chorus, zayne has become somehow familiar with it. the music has eventually wormed its way into his head as well, but it was mostly because of how it reminded him of your cheerful tune.

unknowingly to him, he's been quietly humming the melody. greyson has noticed this when he was about to deliver a report to zayne, catching up with him until he hears a soft vibrating sound coming from the surgeon.

he's surprised to hear the familiar, catchy tune coming from their ever stoic doctor, but when you arrive at the hospital and greet greyson, asking about the doctor and waving at him with a skip in your step and the lyrics flying softly out of you as you leave, he puts two in two together.

you also eventually catch zayne humming the tune while you're both preparing dinner at his place, ears quirking as you hear the familiar melody in the form of his light, baritone cadence through the sound of him chopping.

"i never knew you liked that song too, doctor zayne. i didn't think it would be your style."

the hand on the knife stills at your comment, making zayne suddenly aware of his action. he blinks slowly, before proceeding to chop again. "i suppose it's grown on me. admittedly, the song is quite catchy itself, but i was more influenced by someone's constant singing of it."

a bashful smile reaches your face. "ah, my bad. it got stuck in my head for the whole day, and that was all i could hear in my mind."

"your condition sounds serious. i'm afraid it's contagious. the only cure for this now would be for you to sing it to me until my brain gets tired of it."

---

rafayel

your hand shoots to grab the can of paint that you almost tripped over, sighing in relief from the lack of spill on the floor. you're wondering where in heaven's name rafayel is already.

he's invited you over spontaneously with the alibi of suddenly having the urge to have a painting session together. you figured it would be fun, considering you had nothing to do at the moment.

he also mentioned that he was out to grab a few supplies and that you should help yourself in his studio, but it's already been around forty minutes, and he still hasn't appeared yet. you're getting bored from just sitting out and waiting for him, so you decide to start on something.

once you've prepped everything you needed, you scroll through your phone and look through your playlist to find an appropriate song to get into the mood before starting. a cheery tune comes in and you nod in approval, grabbing the brush and just going off with whatever you feel.

minutes pass by, and you've made some progress with your work. the upbeat songs on your playlist drive the mood of your art as well as yourself, but when it reaches to that particular song, you're suddenly all over the place, the paintbrush now a makeshift microphone in your hand.

"don't you want me like i want you, baby? don't you need me like i need you now?~"

"oh, i definitely need a camera for this."

you trip over the same paint again, its contents spilling out. a slew of curses leave your mouth, grabbing the can before the whole liquid could escape. you look up to see rafayel, with a grin plastered on his face.

"i... you... how..." you sputter over your words, too stunned to even utter a full sentence to him. how long has he been standing there? and how much did he see?

"i came back ten minutes ago and heard the loud music from upstairs. sooo, i saw your performance for about... seven minutes, i'd say."

he walks over to you, taking the paintbrush from your hand and replacing it with a paper bag you haven't noticed on him.

"here, i bought some food for you on the way. i figured you might be hungry from all the wait. it was really busy outside. but don't worry, i always compensate my bodyguard. especially after they'd just had that dance number."

you groan, putting a hand on your face but forgetting about the paint on them, so now you're covered with... a vermillion red, as it says on the can from earlier. the colour is probably matching with your face from how hot it feels.

"hah, looks like you've been caught red-handed–"

"ugh, don't."

after that embarrassing fiasco and things have calmed down, you and rafayel work on your paintings. he eventually tries to warm you up with playing your songs again, persistently telling you to continue playing them to give the background a more lively vibe. you agreed when you made him promise not to make fun of you from earlier.

when the song plays again, you fumble for you phone to change it to the next queue, but rafayel stops you with a snap of his paintbrush on you knuckles, making you glare at him, and he in turn gives a pointed look at you, making you leave the song on play. you can't stop the small taps and head bops from the catchy beat.

much to rafayel's chagrin, that song has been stuck in his head for the following days. he can't deny how catchy it is, and there's a certain melody that's easily recognisable and playful to it. eventually, he's singing it in his studio now, and blasting it away into the coastal air. yet, no matter how many times he's played it, the tune still rings in his head.

unfortunately for him, it's blocking his creativity, and he can't think of anything but the song. he blames it on you for exposing it to him... until a lightbulb in his brain lights up. it's you! the moment you blared up that music and danced around his studio with your paintbrush mic in hand as if it was your personal stage, the memory of that song and moment locked it in his brain.

his hands eventually get to work, and canvases are filled of you in that moment – the riveting expression on your face as you belt out to the song, the paints scattered on your hands and arms, some unknowingly on your hair, the way your body is thrown back in carefree ecstasy as the music courses through you... he makes that memory come alive again.

---

sylus

he's noticed that luke has been playing this one song in constant repeat on his phone, to the point that the catchy chorus of the song is practically shoved into the forefront of his brain, playing it every now and then.

it got worse when kieran got into it as well, much to luke's delight.

"i thought you'd hate this song and say it's stupid."

"what? no! it's so good that i can't even stop playing it."

"me too!"

now the manor echoes with that song. surprisingly, sylus doesn't mind it. it is quite catchy, annoyingly so that he willingly listens to it on his own as well (but he doesn't let the twins know that).

of course, you also loved that song, and as soon as luke found out, he pulled you along with kieran for a sing-along loop until you all got sick of the lyrics and each other's voices.

unbeknownst to all of you, mephisto is recording everything, and sylus smirks in delight when he sees the three of you belt out to the song non-stop, capturing the way you passionately sing out to it and let your body get lost into the rhythm.

also unbeknownst to the onychinus leader is that luke and kieran had managed to get an audio recording of sylus humming and singing to the song with his infamous tone deafness.

"kissy face, kissy face, sent to your phone... i'm trying to kiss your lips for real–" you and the twins burst out laughing at the audio, clutching on your stomach at how out of sync he is. kieran plays the audio in repeat again, and it never fails to make you all burst into tears of laughter.

"please... i can't breathe..." you wheeze out, grabbing onto luke's arm.

"what seems to be all the commotion around here?" the low baritone voice makes you all freeze, luke and kieran especially. kieran fumbles with the phone, turning it off before addressing to sylus.

"b-boss! w-we were just..."

"they... they..." you fight your words in between giggles, clearing your throat and trying to compose yourself, but ultimately ended up failing as you burst into laughter again.

sylus waits out your fits of chuckles, raising a brow expectantly at you. "what's so funny that's gotten you this breathless, sweetie?"

"hah... it's just... luke and kieran showed me something really funny, is all," you say with a dismissive wave, a grin still etched on your face, eyes sparkling with delight.

"really? and what is this 'funny thing' that they showed you?"

the twins sweat, already trying to fumble with an excuse until you chime in. "nothing, it's nothing. you wouldn't get it, sorry."

before he can make a remark, you stand up to take his hand, leading him away from the twins before he could question them further.

"c'mon, you said we'd go out tonight! what place did you want us to go to?"

an amused chuckle leaves sylus. "you'll see."

turns out, he brought you out for karaoke, which was probably the worst and best thing tonight.

you scream into the microphone with as much feeling and power as you can until your voice is so hoarse that it couldn't even detect your voice anymore.

and sylus... well, he was singing with as much tune as he can, which is... really out of this world, but you still cheer on him, recording him with your phone as he attempts to follow the melody of the song.

after that, you think you need to get your hearing checked.

and as promised, kieran sent you the audio of sylus' singing. now you both have an audio and video to file in your 'crow screeches' album.

[strwberri-milk]

Hello!! Sorry if this is lengthy but can you please do a "I didn't know we were dating." Scenario/HC where MC/reader didn't know that they were already dating the LaDS guys meanwhile the guys have been preparing to celebrate their 1 year anniversary together and reader/MC is confused because they thought that the LaDS guys were just being close and affectionate cause they were good friends and the LaDS men are like "We've been together this whole time!"? (And this whole time MC has been pining for them but they thought their feelings were one sided)

Please feel free to ignore/delete this if it's too lengthy 😅

hhhh im modifying this to a few months bc tbh i dont see any of the boys going that long without making some sort of clarifying statement that makes it clear you two are dating we love kings of communcation <3

Zayne was always warmer with you than anybody else. You never thought of it as anything other than platonic, especially considering you've overheard him talking to his colleagues about needing to see his partner or bringing something over the next time he sees them. You never asked him about it since he never seemed to say anything about them to you, thinking that he was just wanting to keep his relationship private.

It's not until one day when you hear him on the phone use your name in conjunction with calling you his partner that you think to ask him. You wait for him to finish his call, asking him what he meant by that. He's just as confused, asking if the two of you were dating. He'd thought you were since you never said anything to the contrary and seemed just as happy to spend time with him. You have to finally admit to him that you had no idea, the two of you laughing awkwardly at the assumption that was made. You end up making things official, finally going on your actual first date the same day.

Xavier was always all over you. You thought it was because he didn't really seem to have many friends outside of yourself, not minding it at all since you liked him just as much, if not more. You don't think to ask why he feels so comfortable around you, knowing that honestly, you felt just as comfortable around him yourself. Not only that, but since you had feelings for him allowing him to be as touchy as he was allowed you to fantasize about the two of you being more.

One day he tells you he loves you out of the blue, making you a flustered mess. You cover your face, trying desperately to hide and ask him why he's suddenly saying all that, only to be attacked with the fact that he's asking why you haven't said it back. He looks sad, asking if you don't love him and your relationship wasn't as serious as he thought it was. You ask him what relationship, leading to you finding out that he thought you said yes to being his partner when he asked you after a sleepover one morning. It's a little mortifying but you don't mind now that you know, hugging him tightly and telling him that you love him more than anything.

Rafayel has always been nice to you, practically crawling into your lap whenever the two of you are hanging out. He loves to hold you, burying his face into your neck and saying the sweetest things - the exact opposite of the man he presents himself to be. You just assumed that him being this needy was a reflection of how comfortable he is with you, totally unaware that he was trying to figure out how to make your first kiss perfect.

He invites you over for dinner - an occurrence that was becoming more and more common - fully intent on making a move on you tonight. You thank him for the meal, totally panicking when you realise he's a lot closer to you today then he is other days when he comes over to grab your finished plate. He's about to kiss you when you push against his chest, asking him what he's trying to do.

He's just ask confused, asking why he can't kiss his partner, which then makes you spiral even more. You tell him that the two of you aren't dating, which just makes him even more confused. Cue a conversation about the fact that he thought you two were dating and he was trying to kiss you because he wanted to. He wins in the end but your heart definitely stopped a few times from th excitement of the evening.

Sylus straight up calls you his partner to your face. You thought it was just a new pet name he was testing out on you, not taking it seriously. He calls you so many pet names that you almost tune them out, thinking that the affectionate way he looks at you was just a side effect from him teasing you slightly.

It's not until you hear the twins referring to you by the pet names teasingly in Sylus' presence that you start to think that maybe there's something to it. He tells them that he can call you whatever he likes because you're dating him and that if you didn't like it you would have said something already. He doesn't know you're listening in, nor that you're freaking out because you had no idea that you two were dating.

Now he ends up needing to tell you that you two have been dating for a while as far as he's concerned. He tells you that he thought he made it clear with the fact that he told you to your face that he considers you his partner, blaming you (playfully) for being too dense to realise he was serious.