#he has lost an arm and an eye so far and neither have stopped him

[downbad4sylus]

“This mark is different”

(part 3 to “I killed you”)

synopsis: You and Sylus return to the base from the field of flowers where he shows you his horns.

content: NSFW; 18+ MDNI; smut with some plot; sylus x afab!reader; reader is MC; use of Y/N; soft!sylus; virgin!sylus (i am of the opinion that sylus wouldn’t so much as breathe near another woman who isn’t MC); virgin!reader; kissing; oral (fem receiving); p in v; soft sex; slightly rough sex; no protection (wrap it up kids); multiple orgasms; idk if this counts as monster fucking but sylus has horns and a tail; mostly proofread

word count: ~3.5k

tags: @travelerth; @midiplier; @satansdaughter123; @bookfreakk

a/n: massive thank you once again to everyone who’s read, liked, and reblogged parts 1 and 2, i genuinely can’t express how happy it makes me that so many of you have enjoyed these little stories :’) anywaayyy, in honor of the new banner and all the new spicy content (bless our game developer overlords) here is part 3 where things between you and Sylus get a little spiicccyyyy

Okay, so when Sylus asked if you wanted to go back to the base and see his horns, you might have taken him a little too literally.

What you thought was him innocently taking you to his bedroom—warning the twins on your way that he still didn’t want to be bothered—turned out to be far from that.

Which was how you found yourself currently pinned beneath him on his bed, tongues tangling and lungs screaming for air, no horns in sight. Or tail. Or wings.

You lightly pounded a fist against his chest. “Sylus…I need…to breathe…”

Sylus was loath to part from you, but did so regardless, taking the opportunity to marvel at the sight of you before him. Flushed cheeks, swollen lips, chest heaving. You were beautiful, perfect, and his.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked, making sure he had your consent before he continued.

You bit your lip, and he nearly lost control then and there. How many times did he have to tell you to stop doing that?

“How far are we going?” you asked softly.

“As far as you want, sweetie,” Sylus assured. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

“I, um, haven’t really done anything before,” you confessed, turning your face away so you didn’t have to look at him.

Sure, you had a few boyfriends throughout the years but you’d never had more than a heated makeout session, it was usually the reason why those relationships ended. You weren’t a prude or anything, you were just saving yourself for when someone really special came along. Or maybe you’d unknowingly been waiting for Sylus to come along.

Sylus pinched your chin and forced your eyes back to his. “Me neither.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. “Really?”

He nodded. “I’d never give myself to anyone but you.” He released your chin in favor of dragging a finger down your neck before wrapping his hand around it, careful not to choke you. “I do, however, have a very good memory.”

Your heart thundered in your chest. You wanted him. You needed him. And most importantly, you trusted him.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“Okay what, sweetie? I need you to tell me exactly what you want,” Sylus said, his thumb rubbing soothingly along the length of your neck.

“I want you, Sylus, all of you,” you said. “I want you to make me feel good.”

“Oh, Y/N, I’ll do so much better than that.”

He released your neck, trailing his large hand over your chest and down your stomach until his fingers teased the hem of your shirt.

“May I?” he asked.

You nodded. “But I get to take off yours next.”

Sylus chuckled. “Are you trying to make a deal with me right now?”

You nodded again, smiling. “For every one thing you strip off of me, I get to strip something off of you.”

His ruby-red eyes sparkled. “And those are your terms?”

“Those are my terms.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

You eagerly sat up and held your arms above your head. Sylus huffed, clearly amused by your enthusiasm, and gripped the bottom of your shirt in both his hands. In one smooth motion, he removed it, tossing it aside as his gaze roved hungrily over your now-bare skin.

When you reached for his shirt, intent on running your hands all over his delicious abs, you suddenly found yourself back against the mattress, wrists pinned to the pillows.

You blinked to find Sylus hovering above you sporting a positively wicked smile.

“Sylus! What are you doing?” you exclaimed, fighting to free your wrists.

He cocked his head. “You never said when you got to rid me of my clothes,” he drawled in that infuriatingly smug tone of his. “You need to be more specific when setting your terms, sweetie.”

Your mouth popped open. This was what you got for trying to make a deal with the King of Deals himself.

“Now, let’s get rid of this next,” he mused, trailing his fingertips along the underwire of your bra.

“How are you—“

Black-red mist enveloped your bra, tickling the skin underneath. It took only a moment for Sylus’s Evol to make quick work of it, the undergarment reduced to black and red specks of dust, leaving your upper half fully exposed.

Sylus’s pupils dilated as his hand gently cupped your breast, and you whimpered when his thumb brushed over your nipple.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “And all mine.”

He was barely touching you yet your core had already gone molten and was beginning to throb with need. You needed more of him, his hands, his lips, his tongue, his co—

A jolt of pleasure shot straight to your core, tearing a loud moan from your lips as Sylus closed his own over your neglected nipple. He continued, tongue laving and teeth biting until he switched to your other breast, giving it an equal amount of attention.

You were panting by the time he lifted his head with a quiet smack of his lips.

But Sylus was far from finished.

He kissed his way up to your neck, where he licked and sucked at your sensitive skin. You wanted to touch him, thread your fingers through his hair but he still had your wrists pinned firmly above your head with seemingly no intention of releasing them.

You cried out, your back arching as Sylus sunk his teeth into your neck.

“This mark is different,” he breathed, lapping his tongue over it to soothe the sting. “This time, I want to count how many times I can make you come before it fades.”

“Fuck Sy,” you groaned.

He trailed down again until he reached the waistband of your pants. He looked at you, one brow raised, silently asking for your consent. You nodded, straining against his hold on your wrists, desperate to bury your hands in his hair.

You nearly cried with relief when he finally removed his hand, only to have your wrists bound by his Evol instead.

“Sylus,” you whined.

He chuckled. “Be a good girl and let me have my fun first,” he said. “You’re the one who asked me to make you feel good.”

“Then stop teasing me already!”

“Mmm, very well.”

Sylus yanked off your pants, leaving you in just your underwear, which were soaked through by this point. He made quick work taking them off as well, groaning at the sight of you finally naked before him.

“So, so beautiful,” he murmured reverently as he reached out, brushing his thumb over your clit. Your hips bucked at the contact, and it was all the reaction Sylus needed before descending on you like a man starved.

Spreading your legs wide, Sylus licked your slick entrance, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. Your back bowed off the bed, crying out in pleasure as he focused his efforts on your throbbing clit. He slung an arm across your waist and pushed you back down, keeping you locked in place, unable to escape the pleasure he was so eager to give you.

His unoccupied hand ghosted along your inner thigh, growing closer and closer to where his mouth was, until he reached your entrance and slipped a finger inside.

You moaned. “Please Sy,” you begged him. “Please let me touch you.”

Without parting from your core, Sylus’s Evol dissipated from your wrists, freeing you at last. Your hands immediately went to his head, burying your fingers in his hair.

Release tingled down your spine, the tension poised to snap. When Sylus added a second finger he nearly undid you then and there.

You grip his hair harder, moving your hips as much as his iron grip would allow, riding his face.

“Sylus,” you panted. “Sylus I’m gonna—ah.”

“Go ahead, sweetie,” Sylus said gruffly. “Come for me.”

And you did, the tension exploding as you came all over his mouth and fingers. He continued to lick and suck, his fingers pumping in and out while you rode out your high, stopping only when your body went limp beneath him.

“That’s one,” Sylus said proudly, straightening as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You stared at the slick covering his fingers, transfixed by the way it shined in the light. Sylus noticed.

“Want a taste for yourself?” he asked.

Heat flooded your cheeks but when your eyes met his, you nodded.

“Open,” he commanded. You obeyed and Sylus slid his fingers inside your mouth. When you closed your lips around them he said, “Now suck.”

You couldn’t feel any embarrassment you were so turned on, tasting yourself as you licked and sucked Sylus’s fingers clean.

“Good girl,” Sylus purred as his withdrew his fingers. “Would you like to uphold your end of our deal now?”

You pounced on him, almost knocking you both off the bed. You tore at Sylus’s shirt, bunching it up over his torso before ripping it off his head. Without stopping to admire his physique, you rose on your knees, positioned on either side of his legs, and unbuckled his belt. The bulge in his pants made your mouth water and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your hands around his cock and wring as much pleasure out from him as he did you.

“Lift your hips,” you told Sylus.

He raised them, his chest heaving with anticipation as he watched you. You hurriedly popped the button and pulled the zipper down, then with all your might, grabbed the waistband of his pants and underwear and yanked.

Sylus’s hard cock slapped against his abdomen and you nearly abandoned undressing him at the sight of it. He was long and thick, precum leaking from his slit and onto his stomach. You wanted to touch it, taste it, feel it inside of you.

“Don’t stop now, kitten,” Sylus encouraged, his voice breathless. “You can’t leave my pants like this.”

You blinked, realizing you’d be staring at his cock, hands still gripped tight on his pants, which were only halfway down his thighs. You mumbled an apology and managed to finish stripping him, tossing his clothes aside onto the floor somewhere.

Sylus groaned as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. “Kitten,” he panted. You dragged your hand up his length, gathering the precum at the tip before running it back down. “Hah—ah, that feels so good.”

But Sylus grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

You pouted. “I want to make you feel good too.”

He smirked. “You can do that some other time, right now, I need to be inside you.”

Sylus sat up, putting you at eye level.

Your breath caught. He was so beautiful, with his sharp, chiseled features, but what really took your breath away was the look in his eyes. He looked at you like you held his entire world in your hands. Like you were the only light shining in a life otherwise shrouded in darkness. You loved this man, and it was so heart achingly clear he loved you too.

Sylus cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

“I’ve never been so sure about anything before,” you answered him with a smile. “I love you, Sylus.”

He smiled too, a real smile, not anything like his smug ones. “I love you too, Y/N.”

He kissed you, lips pressing softly on yours. It was slow and unhurried, like you had all the time in the world to just enjoy each other. Even when your tongues met, you didn’t rush, Sylus gently pushing you down onto the mattress.

He drew back when his cock teased your entrance. “I’m going to go slow, okay? If it hurts or you need me to stop, just let me know.”

Your hands flew up to his face. “Sylus wait.”

He didn’t move a muscle.

“You said I could see your horns.”

Sylus faltered. “Sweetie, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

You shook your head. “No, I want to see them, Sy, and your wings and tail. I said I wanted all of you and I meant all of you.”

Sylus’s heart thundered in his chest, unsure whether to give in to your demands. He was sure if he protested further, he’d be able to convince you to drop it for now. In truth, though, he was nervous. Yes you had remembered your past together but you’d never seen him in his dragon form in this life. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you. He’d never recover if you saw him as the monster he truly was, you were the only one who loved him despite that very fact.

“Sylus.”

Hearing his own name tore him from his thoughts, his gaze fixing on your face.

“I love you now just as much as I did then, dragon and all,” you said firmly. “Please, I want you to be able to be yourself with me.”

Sylus hung his head and sighed, resigning to your demands. “Fine, but no wings, they’re too big for the bed.”

“Okay, I can live with that.”

Sylus huffed and brought his lips back to yours. As you kissed, black-red mist swirled at the top of Sylus’s head and at the base of his spine, revealing his scaled, black horns and tail.

He held his breath as he parted from you, bracing himself for your reaction. But when you opened your eyes, they were not filled with fear. They were filled with awe.

You lifted a hand and brushed the bottom of one of Sylus’s horns. He shivered at your touch, his tail swishing back and forth behind him.

“Are they sensitive?” you asked, ghosting your fingers up the length.

“Yes,” Sylus breathed.

You hummed thoughtfully as you angled your head, peering at his tail, then looking back at him. “You really are beautiful, Sy.”

He swallowed against the lump in his throat, moved far more than he could ever express with words that you found him beautiful, even like this.

“May I continue now?” he asked, deflecting with his usual arrogance.

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Please.”

Sylus almost lost his self control at the relief that flooded through him. His cock was throbbing so hard it was painful, and the only way he could soothe it was to be buried deep inside your cunt.

Tail thrashing wildly, Sylus repositioned the head of his cock at your entrance, somehow even more soaked now than before. Coating himself first, he then began pushing past your folds.

You inhaled sharply at the burn as your walls stretched to accommodate his size.

“Relax, my love,” Sylus soothed, one hand trailing down toward your core. He gently circled your clit, encouraging your body to relax.

You whimpered, clenching around the head of his cock, desperate for him to fill you more despite the pain.

Taking his time, Sylus rocked his hips slowly, easing into you inch by inch all while rubbing your clit to keep you loose. By the time he bottomed out, the pain you’d felt had been long replaced by the pure pleasure of being filled with his cock.

Sylus trembled with the restraint it took to not start pounding into you, wanting your first time to be more loving and tender. There was plenty of time to take you hard and rough.

“I’m going to move now, okay?” he warned, breathing heavily.

“Yes, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He groaned and rocked his hips until just his tip was left inside you, before sliding back in. You both moaned as Sylus began thrusting in earnest, his pace slow and steady.

“You feel so good, Y/N,” Sylus panted. “Just like I remember.”

You were unable to respond, too consumed by the way he moved inside you, his cock hitting you in all the right places.

As though it had a mind of its own, Sylus’s tail snaked around one of your legs, keeping it locked to his waist.

Tension building already, your nails dug into Sylus’s back as each thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge. Sylus could fell your walls fluttering around his cock, and while he wanted nothing more than to lose himself right along with you, he was determined to rip as many orgasms out of you as he could.

He picked up the pace slightly and you responded in kind, tightening your grip on him as you cried out.

“Sylus, oh fuck, don’t stop, please please please don’t stop.”

He chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He captured your lips in an impassioned kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you moaned. One hand cupped a breast, his fingers teasing your nipple before moving on the other.

His touch, his kiss, his cock, it was all too much.

Your back arched as you came, waves of pleasure washing over your body again and again with seemingly no end. Sylus kept moving through it, pausing when you finally slumped into the bed.

“That’s two, but we’re not finished yet, kitten,” Sylus growled.

You hardly registered his words before he was flipping you onto your stomach, a shocked oof breezing past your parted lips. He dragged your hips up so your ass was in the air, sliding his cock back into your cunt with ease. His tail slid along your ribs, then across your breasts, the hard scales rubbing on your sensitive nipples, and it pulled you flush to Sylus’s chest. On instinct, you reached back and grabbed onto both of his horns. The groan he let out was purely animalistic.

“You better hold on tight,” he whispered in your ear, the only warning you got before his cock started slamming into you.

You moaned at the delicious new angle, your body already working toward another orgasm. Admittedly, you’d been a bit nervous that Sylus was relying solely on memory from another lifetime in order to please you, and truly you would’ve been happy with whatever he’d be able to give you. But this? This was not at all what you expected.

“I won’t last much longer, kitten,” Sylus warned, his thrusts growing sloppy, “and I fully intend on bringing you with me.”

His hand slid down your abdomen, two fingers finding your clit and rubbing in quick, tight circles.

Your cunt clenched hard around his cock as you pulled on his horns, your mouth popping open in a silent cry. Sylus groaned, doubling his efforts both with his cock and his fingers.

“Sylus!” you yelled, body tensing. “Sylus, oh please.”

“Give me one more, Y/N,” he muttered. “Be a good girl and give me one more.”

Your climax slammed into you, your vision going white as the pleasure rocked your body harder than the last two. It drove Sylus straight off the cliff edge, chasing his high right alongside you, filling your cunt to the brim.

When you were both spent, Sylus collapsed on top of you, but you were too fucked out of your mind to care about his weight crushing you.

He didn’t linger on you too long though, rolling over onto his side, taking you with him as his tail was still wound around your breasts. He peppered kisses on your neck and shoulder, making you smile.

You twisted in his hold to face him, placing a chaste kiss of your own right on his lips. “I love you, Sy,” you murmured.

“I love you too, sweetie,” he replied quietly.

“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?” you asked, the picture of innocence.

Sylus scoffed. “I was under the impression I was much more than just your boyfriend.”

“You are, but I can’t introduce you to people as my soul-bound lover,” you protested. “We need a socially acceptable label, Sy.”

“You want to introduce me to all your little Hunter friends?”

“Yeah, as my small-business-owner-slash-fruit-stall-vendor boyfriend, Skye!”

He gave you an incredulous look, as if he couldn’t believe you were having this conversation right now. But, he’d never deny you anything. “Fine, I’ll be your boyfriend as long as you get to be my girlfriend.”

“You have to ask me first.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You have to ask me to be your girlfriend first.”

Sylus pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Y/N, my love, will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

You grinned and smacked your lips against his. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Little did you know that Sylus had much bigger plans in mind than you being just his girlfriend. Fiancé was good, but wife was even better. You know, for the sake of socially acceptable labels, of course.

[space-cowgirllll]

I did boy mom Abby during the fall so you know I had to write some domestic fluff for Ellie too 🫶🏻🎃🍂

let’s ignore that I’m posting this less than an hour before Halloween is over 🥸

"Mama no! That's Rex's chair!"

"Well I don't see his name on it." The soft thud of the stuffed animal hitting the carpet is followed by the stomp of a tiny foot.

"Mama!"

You lower the volume on the halloween music playing on the tv, watching your wife get locked in stare down with a mini version of herself. Margo's legs wobble on unsteady plastic heels and the pink material of her dress wrinkles as she places her hands on her hips. Ellie had managed to squeeze herself into one of the bigger dresses in your daughter's closet, the thing looking like it was about to bust at the seams whenever she moved. Her tiara lopsided as it slowly slips off her head.

From the color of their hair to the slope of their noses, it was actually scary how alike they looked at the moment. Their profiles damn near identical.

The two stare at each other from opposite sides of the coffee table where a "spooky" tea party was being held with hot chocolate and Halloween cookies. Action figures and stuffed animals line the sides, with the newest addition to your little family sitting at the head of the table. Your seven month old son, Theo, sits in his infant chair watching the drama unfold as he chewed on a yogurt puff. His little body swallowed up by the tulle of his dress, with a sparkly clip in his short hair. Neither you nor Ellie able to save him from the older sister effect.

"He's a stuffie, he can't even eat the cookie." Ellie says matter of factly, reaching over to fix the girl's tiara.

The four year old's eyes shift from Rex's spot to her own empty plate, nodding in understanding. "Get more from mommy." she whispers loudly, pointing to where you stand at the counter with a fresh batch. Their eyes widen at the sight of the tray in front of you.

Ellie has a full blown one sided conversation with the infant in her arms, stopping at the large window facing your backyard. She points out the swing set under the large tree in the far right corner.

"Pretty soon you'll be out there with mama and margo having competitions on who can swing the highest." She bounces the infant on her hip.

"Mama cheats." Margo pipes up from the living room.

"I do not!"

Ellie jumps to defend herself, launching into story after story about the times she's lost to the four year old. Theo watches her in fascination, his eyes glued to Ellie's face. Your wife never stopped talking, and you swear it's the reason Margo's vocabulary is as good as it is.

You pretend to ignore Ellie as she saunters over to where you stand at the kitchen island. Her front presses up against your back, lips pressing against your bare shoulder as she reaches for the cookies. "Don't mind if I do."

"I do mind, actually." You push her away. "Dinner's almost ready."

"Oh c'mon just one more."

"You said that like five cookies ago Els." Taking the baby from her arms, you move the tray further away from her grabby hands.

She pouts. "So you hate me."

"Oh, shut up." You roll your eyes, pulling her in for a kiss. "How about you two go wash up and you can have one more AFTER dinner." The little hand reaching for the tray pauses, slowly retreating when you pull it further away. Ellie snorts as the culprit click clacks back towards the couch.

The doorbell rings, pulling your attention away from the kitchen. Ellie moves to stir the soup currently simmering in the pot, ignoring your warning look.

"Babe, did you order something?" You question, staring at the large plastic bag on your front porch. The logo didn't look familiar, her name is on the label when you squint.

"Oh, yeah! This wasn't supposed to come until next week." The package is snatched from your hands, a flash of pink and purple fly past you and down the hallway. Your two dogs manage to slip in the room just before the door slams shut.

"We're the only sane ones here bub." You turn back towards the kitchen, undressing the infant and placing him in his high chair. He babbles happily while you clean up the mess on the counter.

It's then that you notice the two cookies missing from the tray. Your wife and daughter's muffled giggles reach your ears.

"Ellie!"

———

"Okay oneeee more for Grandpa Joel."

"No more." Margo pouts "Papa has lots of pictures already."

The three of you wait impatiently as Ellie props her phone up against one of the steps on your front porch. She rushes back to where you stand as the timer counts down. Her hand reaches down to adjust the dog's dinosaur costume, the hood covering his eyes.

Theo sits happily in the wagon your wife had spent the last week turning into a little cage. His little green dinosaur costume just thick enough to keep him warm from the chilly weather.

You quickly make sure your pink button up is tucked properly into your shorts. Ellie gives you a grateful look when you push the hair out of her face. The two of you smiling just as the timer goes off, praying that the kids were looking.

Your wife had insisted on picking out the theme for Halloween this year. Knowing she had at least one year left before your already opinionated daughter decided she wanted to pick out her own halloween costume. With how busy you'd been at work you happily let her take charge.

And that's how you ended up wrangling a family of dinosaurs out the door.

"Let's go!"

You bite your lip when your daughter wobbles in her inflatable dinosaur costume, the head throwing her off balance. Her little hand reaches for Ellie's, dragging her down the driveway and out into the throng of people already out trick or treating. Pink plastic pumpkin swinging at her side.

The four of you make your way through the neighborhood, you and Ellie taking turns walking the kids up to knock on doors.

Like most four year olds, Margo gets tired after a couple of streets. Her plastic pumpkin now full of candy. Theo snoozes away in his wagon, checks rosy from the cold.

"Last house?" You point at the tiny craftsman at the end of the street.

Ellie gives you a thumbs up and follows after Margo as she hobbles up the path towards the front porch.

“Well aren’t you two the cutest.” The elderly woman sitting on one of the steps gushes. “Matching costumes!”

She reaches into the big yellow bowl, pulling out a full size candy that has the little girl’s tired eyes widening.

"A big candy! Thank you!" She clutches it in her tiny fist, rushing back to where you stood on the sidewalk.

The elderly woman laughs at the way her costume wobbles as she runs down. "Is that your family?" She asks pointing to where you stand.

"It is." Ellie smiles.

"They're so cute." She gushes, patting her arm. "You're very lucky."

Ellie watches you gently pry the melting chocolate from your daughter’s grasp, putting it in her overflowing bucket. Theo now perched on your hip, a big gummy smile on his face at the sound of his big sister’s voice as she bounces around dancing to the loud music coming from down the street. The two dogs swore she didn’t want sat at your sides.

Ellie’s heart warmed at the sight. Her smile widens.

"Yeah, I am."

—

"Margo's finally down." You sink down into the spot next to Ellie on the couch with a sigh. A hand reaches into the plastic bag on her lap where you'd dumped all the candy, digging around for the full size candy bar from earlier. Your wife searches for a movie to watch, clicking through multiple streaming apps.

"Told you we shouldn't have let her have that second lollipop before bed." She mumbles through a mouthful of chocolate. Her eyes glued to the tv. You stretch out on the couch, legs thrown over her lap.

"Nothing scary." You remind her. "Don't need you waking me up to walk you to the bathroom at 3 AM again."

"That was ONE time!" Ellie scoffs, but quickly exits the horror section. She sprawls out on top of you, her head resting on your chest.

“No cartoons either.” You press a quick kiss to her hair. “Get enough of that with the kids.”

You settle on Hocus Pocus after ten minutes of bickering only for the two of you to end up asleep only fifteen minutes into the movie.

[devonpink]

Conversion in the Deep

Far from land and deep in the sea, lives a world undiscovered by humanity. In an underwater kingdom where merpeople not only exist but thrive. Ruling over them is King Lyle, his wife, and his only offspring, Prince Dorian.

On the morning of his 25th birthday, Dorian was not his usual cheerful self but distressed, swimming back and forth in one of the castle's many gardens. "What kind of a birthday surprise was that?!" He was utterly flabbergasted over what his father had sprung on him only a half hour ago. "An arranged marriage?! With a mermaid, no less! When is he gonna get it through that thick head of his that I'm gay! Gay, gay gay!"

Unbeknownst to Dorian, his future bride, Princess Alana, was not far behind, watching and following him in curious wonderment. She couldn't help but eavesdrop. Neither could the royal guards. "It has to be a joke?" Dorian questioned, trying to keep his head on straight. "I'm sure that's what it is! There's no way my father is that-" Dorian was too lost in his own head to realize Alana had swam up behind him. So when he abruptly flipped around. Boom! They smacked right into one another, face-on. They were mere centimeters away from accidentally kissing, causing Dorian's face to immediately blush from embarrassment—he was redder than a cooked crab. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention!"

"It's okay! I should have said something." Alana insisted, hoping to soothe Dorian's embarrassment. She smirked slightly, thoroughly amused with how awkwardly cute Dorian's nervous expression was. That pared with his muscular build making him even sexier. She swam back slightly to give them some breathing space, easing him further. However, she couldn't help but give in to her feminine wiles. "I hope you blush as cutiely on our wedding day."

"About that," Dorian anxiously gulped, assuming Alana was just kidding but didn't like the glimmer of sincere lust in her eye. He took a deep breath, hoping to reason with her. "Look, you must think this whole arrangement is as crazy as I do, right? I mean, we don't even know each other! It would never work out! I'm just not made for this kind of marriage!"

Alana looked confused, almost hurt by what he said—her heartbroken expression made Dorian uneasy, filling him with bizarre guilt. "Why not?"

Dorain gently grabbed her by the arm and pulled her over to a nearby rock formation, out of the guard's sight. "I don't know how to break this to you other than spitting it right out: I'm gay. I'm incapable of giving you a happy marriage."

"Well, I wouldn't say that." Alana smiled slightly, inching herself closer to him. She laid her small hand on his massive bicep, making him unexpectedly quiver in titillation. "They don't call marriage hard work for no reason."

"What?" Dorain was surprised by her reaction or lack thereof. It's as if his confession went right over her head. "Didn't you hear me? I'm gay. Like, really gay!"

"You think you're the first?" Alana plainly said, brushing her fin against his. "It's not like this hasn't happened before. It has, and it's worked out." Dorian was stunned, frozen in disbelief but her calm demeanor. Throwing him off further, she swam around him, eyeing him like a delicious piece of meat. "Just take my parents for example."

Dorian's eyes lit up in shock, watching her confidently swim around him, trying hard not to stare at her perfect tits. "What do you mean?!"

"A long time ago, my father was in the same position you're in right now," Alana nonchalantly answered, stopping back in front of him. She seductively bit her bottom lip, still processing how unbelievably muscular Dorian was—a true muscle god.

"You mean, King Trenton is gay?!" Dorian questioned in disbelief. He couldn't figure Alana out or why he felt so funny. The more Alana talked the more smitten he weirdly became, confusing him more.

"He is, well, was. I guess you can say it's complicated, but love will do that. "Alana answered, her eyes kept making their way to his genital slit. She swam closer to him, forcing him back against the large rock formation behind him.

Inside Dorian was a swirling mess of emotions. He felt both frightened and turned on by her, which didn't make sense. He was gay, but her obvious lust for him was making him unbelievably horny. He suddenly felt overwhelmingly enamored with her as if a switch abruptly went off in his brain. "I don't understand?"

"I'm not surprised," Alama smirked, with an all-knowing look. She moved her hand up his ripped chest, making him quiver. She then gently grazed his firm nipples, which made him gasp. He was blushing uncontrollably. "God, you're so cute when you're nervous."

"Alana, please. I can't!" Dorian's heart was racing, enthralled with her heavenly touch. How could he want her so badly?

"Do you want me to show you?" Alana seductively asked, purposefully ignoring Dorian's growing concern. She moved her hand back down his perfectly toned body, heading for the genital slit in the front of his tail.

"Show me what?" Dorian asked, trying his best to keep his voice down to not draw the guard's attention. He wanted to moan so badly but kept it from coming out, which was hard to do. A few minutes ago, the idea of being in this type of situation with a mermaid repulsed him, but the reality of it only turned him on. It felt as if his body was acting on its own, out of his mental control. Was it primal instinct? Was it pure madness?

"Do you want me to show you exactly how my mother turned my gay father into a mermaid lover?" Alana rephrased, eyeing Dorian's plump lips in lustful hunger. She put her other arm around him, feeling up his manly backside. "How?" Dorian nervously asked, afraid yet intensely curious of the answer. Alana moved her hand over his slit, sensually rubbing it. His prehensile penis was in danger of popping out. "Oh, fuck." Dorian quietly moaned, trying not to alert the guard's attention. "Why aren't I stopping her?!" He thought. "Why does her touch feel so right? Why is her voice pure music to his ears? Why do I want to fuck her like a primal sea beast? How could I suddenly be so damn horny for a mermaid?!" He couldn't help but moan in sexual agony. "I don't understand why I feel so-?"

"Horny?" Alana answered, already knowing what he was gonna say. Her tone was dripping with lust, she was just as horny as he was.

Dorian sensually moaned again, unable to resist letting his massive prehensile penis finally emerge from its slit, all 13 inches of glorious man meat. Alana licked her lips, reached out her hand, and gently grasped it. Dorian moaned again, only this time more desperate. She stroked him, unable to believe the enormous size of his throbbing member. He instinctually grabbed her waist, unexpectedly loving how manly he instantly felt. They gazed at each other like lovers, as if they would passionately kiss at any moment.

"What's happening to me?" Dorian loudly pleaded, not caring if they got caught. Actually, the thought of his gay self getting caught with a mermaid was an unexpected turn-on. He then moaned loader, letting himself give in to his lust even more.

"My family's powers," Alana finally answered, after stroking him a bit more. "The mermaids in my family have a certain way with mermen. We can bring out whatever we want from them, able to mold them like clay. And the best part, the mermen love it. It's a win-win. Everybodys happy. Even if it takes a little persuading to get there." Alana slowed her stroking and played with the tip of his tapering penis with her finger, edging his lust even further. "You can't tell me it doesn't feel good, that I don't make you feel good."

Dorian moaned again in lustful agony, reluctantly loving how her finger teased his sensitive tip. None of it made sense, but he was starting to not care. All he knew was he felt good and beginning to enjoy himself. As hard as he tried, his lust was winning. He looked her straight in the eye, his gaze burning with passion. He didn't want her to stop. Damned it be her doing or not. He wanted more.

"There must be a part of you that's always secretly wanted to be normal, to be the prince your father always wanted." Alana picked her pace back up, grasping him tighter. She could sense his temptation to fully give in and was hellbent on making sure he did. "Allow me to make that secret desire a reality. Give in to me."

"Oh, fuck!" Dorian aggressively moaned, grasping the ridges of the rocks behind him. Her touch was pure heaven, winning him over. His gay resistance was hanging on by a tread.

"I'll be the perfect wife," Alana assured him, knowing she was close to fully having him. "And will make the most beautiful babies."

"Alana… I-" Dorian could barely speak, only able to moan in utter pleasure as Alana stroked him even faster. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the guards watching them with cocky grins.

"I want to breed with you," Alana hornily begged, wrapping her tail around his. Her smutty confession surprising Dorian but turning him on more.

"I want…" Dorian bit his lip, not wanting to let the rest of his words escape. The small part of himself that was resisting cried out, not wanting to give in. However, the second after Alana ripped off the shell bra off her huge tits to reveal her juicy nipples, it was over. Any last shred of resistance evaporated. With that, he finally let the truth bubbling inside him surface out of his quivering mouth. "I want to breed with you, too!!!"

And thus they finally kissed—french kissing, indulging themselves completely in their lust for one another. Her small feminine body against his massive masculine frame was electrifying. He plunged his rugged face into her huge soft tits, sucking on them like his life depended on it. Seconds later he had his thick fingers in her tight slit, making her moan like a merslut—fueling his testosterone even more. Never in his life had he felt so masculine. He didn't give a damn if the guards were watching. In fact, he wanted them to watch. He wished everyone was here to see him finally become a real man. Dorian figured this new way of thinking was all Alana's doing, but he didn't care. It felt too good to fight. Still gay or not, it didn't matter. He was hooked and couldn't wait till the wedding night.

[vulnonapix1234]

I adore the idea of Miles putting the fear of God into the spidersociety by training more of his lightning and camouflage skills.

Because the power of lightning is terrifying, especially since they aren't common under the spiders.

I also imagine that he has extreme silicone valley vibes. Both for the other spiders and those from his universe.

Be it the fact that he smells like rain (even in the hottest of summers), that his eyes shimmer a blue when there is a storm brewing or how some of the electrucal machinery just stops working whenever he is in a "mood".

(This doesn't mean that others dislike or get out of his way. Miles is a social butterfly, even if he accidentaly shocks you)

But to get back to him terrifying others.

Miles is really smart, even if most people underestimate him for being a child.

He figured out how to charge a phone without destroying it to get a better control over his powers.

Because he doesn't want to kill anyone with them.

It escalates after that.

He builds up his stamina by going bigger and bigger till he was able to manipulate big machinery with them.

(Margo and Penny where a big help with that)

He was even able to manipulate his lighting into "webs". It takes work because he has to place small metal rods around his victims, before the can actually use his lightning as a trap.

Then he trained in controlling electricity that doesn't come from him, by going into dimensions with lightningstorms to get hit with it.

It is as insane as it sounds, but it turned into a great way to get his emotions out. Its like screaming into a pillow for him and he finds a lot of joy in it.

(The poor souls that saw him train believed him to be a crypit. The society was even called a few times, but they never catched him in the act. )

(Pav on the other hand did and it awoke a lot in him. Especially since je wasn't aware that this was Miles, as he never really got to see his face. Him and Gayatri kinda searched for the "boy that commended lightning".)

Miles actually dtarted to fuck with the weather after that, creating his own lightningstorms by letting his own lightning heat up the atmosphere enough.

Its really draining for him though so only its only successful 2/10 times and he actually faints 5/10 if he doesn't get striked by lightning.

But if he is successful in creating a lighting storm he is actually able to cast a Kirin like Sasuke. Even if his doesn't look like a dragon.

(He doesn't do it alone due to the fear of fainting. The only person he trusts with this is Hobie. Hobie himself isn't sure if he should be amazed that Miles can manipulate the weather or if he should fear for his friend. )

(It ping pongs depending if miles is successful and happy in his small lighting storm or if he is resting inside of his arms)

He does all of this training away from the eyes of the spidersociety.

Miles is a forgive but not forget type, so hed like to have a few cards up his sleeve.

(There are moments where he has to ise them through. Battles that could escalate if he didn't give his all. But the shocked faces afterwards are the best)

(People that are aware of his entire training: Hobie, 42, Penny, Margo and Noir. Hobie is more of an emotional support, whilst Margo and Penny really help him with the manipulating of machinery and his own discharge if he gets the zoomies. 42 keeps on making miles go over his boundaries to see what he could do. Noir is their trusted adult who actually keeps Miles in check if he is about to go to far)

(People that kind of know: Pav, Gwen and Spiderham. Its not that Miles doesn't trust him. He just doesn't want to involve them in his insanity. Especially Spiderham, who had just lost Meows Morales and would do foolish things in his grief. Miles also just wants to impress pav, especially after he told him about "the boy that could tame lighting". Neither are aware.

(People that don't know: Peter, the spider society and his parents.)

[miupow]

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ study night .ᐟ c.sb ⊹˚. ♡

╰┈➤ soobin just wants to know what you're reading, is all.

pairing. choi soobin x fem!reader rating. NSFW, MDNI! words. 3.8k warnings. soft dom!soobin, erotic literature, praise kink, degrading, spanking, sunoo from enhypen cameo! vaginal fingering, soobin cums in his pants lol

thank you to @mapofthemazeinthemirror for helping me recover my first fic

“what are you reading?” soobin asked from across your dorm bedroom, sprawled out over a beanbag. he hadn’t looked up from the laptop in his lap for nearly two hours, too invested in his chemistry essay, and you were surprised to glance up and see him peering at you from over his screen. you could see him squinting his eyes to read the cover of the book you were holding, blind as a bat even with his thick rimmed glasses on— you giggled, shook your head and turned the page. you had caught up on assignments far quicker than soobin had, so you had decided to quietly read one of your favorite novels while he finished.

you and soobin had study nights every thursday after classes; a couple of hours for the two of you to help each other with assignments and throw pencils at each other. these nights had been routine since you and soobin met freshman year— you needed help in calculus, and he relied on you entirely to keep his literature grade above a D. plus, you were both quiet and shy, and it was just easier for the two of you to study with each other. soobin stayed in his corner, on your roommate sunoo’s beanbag, you stayed sitting cross-legged on your bed, and you worked in comfortable silence unless either of you needed help. you really enjoyed thursday nights; if only sunoo would stop making such a fuss about leaving for a few hours…

“...yn?” soobin prodded again, head tilted like a confused puppy. you had looked up from your novel but hadn’t said anything, lost in thought— your head had been all over the place since your argument with sunoo right before he left. you wondered briefly if soobin had noticed.

“oh! sorry— i’m reading, um…” you looked down at the open pages of your novel, and it struck you then, far too late, just what exactly you were reading. you shut the book quickly, ears red, “you wouldn’t like it.”

“why wouldn’t i like it?” soobin asked around a mouthful of chips. 

You shrugged, trying your best to look nonchalant. “‘cause.”

soobin gave you a funny look, turned his head back to his essay, and then turned back to give you another, funnier look. 

“what’s it about?”

“don’t worry about it.” you replied far too quickly, sounding guilty as hell. you gingerly placed the book on your nightstand, cover down— soobin blinked at you a couple of times, big brown eyes magnified behind his glasses, and then blinked a couple of times at the book on the nightstand. you really didn’t like the look on his face. 

“don’t you do it!” you warned, not sounding very threatening at all, and soobin gave you an absolutely evil grin. 

soobin leapt from the beanbag in a flash, laptop tumbling to the floor— you shrieked at the top of your lungs, lunging across the bed to grab the book before he did, but soobin’s arms were just so long. he snatched the book with ease, cackling like a fiend as you jumped from the bed to grab it from him— he held the novel above his head with one long arm, the other trying to keep you from climbing him like a tree. 

“soobin! stop it! let me have it! i’m serious! quit it!” you begged, embarrassed nearly to the point of tears as you hopped up and down in an attempt to grab the book from soobin. 

“i just wanna read it! lemme see!” 

six and a half feet up in the air, way above your head and much to your horror, soobin open your book to the bookmarked page and started reading aloud. you smacked him square in the chest, but neither his breath or his smile faltered— god, this man was huge, and it infuriated you. “i followed my boss to his office, watching in bated breath as he rounded his big wooden desk to sit down at his chair. i had made three typing errors on one of his letters, clutched tight in my hand, and my boss seemed madder about it than usual. “put that—“

“stop!” you whined, hitting him across the chest again. you had given up trying to jump for the book. “it’s just a book, it’s not that—“

“if it was just a book you wouldn’t be freaking the fuck out right now,” soobin giggled maniacally. his glasses were slipping down his nose, mostly because you were hitting him, so he leaned his head farther back to read. you briefly considered pulling at his hair, but that felt too cruel. “put the letter on my desk” my boss said.” soobin began again, turning becaus you had started clawing at his neck and arms. “so i did—“

“give me back my book!”

“so i did.” soobin continued, that time not even sparing you a glance. he had started using a stupid little voice for the when the boss spoke, which would have been funny if you weren’t so mortified. “now bend over with your elbows on my desk so that you are looking directly at the letter. keep your face very close.”

“stop it, i mean it!” if he continued reading any further… you felt like crawling into a ditch and dying. 

“if you said it’s just a book i wanna read it!” soobin retorted, evil little smile still plastered on his face. he gave you a sweet, sweet evil smile before turning back to the pages, unfazed by your teary eyes and red cheeks. “i was puzzled, but followed instructions, bending over the top of his desk so that my chest, belly and arms were pressed against the hardwood. my nose was merely a centimeter or two from the letter, which made it hard to read. my skirt was starting to.. to slide up the backs of my thighs, but i was sure if i moved to tug it back down i would just get in more trouble.”

you grimaced when soobin’s voice broke, smile starting to slide off of his face. “now read the letter to yourself. read it over and over again.” my boss said. i read: “dear mr garvy, i am very grateful to you for referring…” at the word “referring”, he— he.. um. oh.”

you started to feel less like wanting to die and more like you were actually dying. soobin stared hard at the pages for a few seconds, ears turning cherry red, but to your surprise and absolute humiliation, he actually began to read aloud again. his voice had dropped that cheerful quality, though, winded like had been hit upside the head. “at the word “referring”, which i had mispelled, he reeled his arm back and spanked me hard. i stopped reading with a loud gasp, shocked— the sting reverberated through my core, fiery hot, and in spite of my embarrassment i began to soak through my panties. at my silence, i was spanked again, even harder. “i said read it,” my boss reminded me, “be a good girl and follow instructions.”

lowering the book, soobin looked down at you with a very red face and an unreadable expression. “you… you actually read this stuff?”

you quickly grabbed the novel from him before haphazardly placing it on your nightstand. “it’s none of your business.” you snip.

“i mean— i didn’t— i didn’t think you liked that kind of stuff.” soobin admitted rather quietly, watching with wide eyes as you angrily collected your scattered study supplies. you dropped your papers into random folders and notebooks before shoving them along with your laptop into your bag— it was a disorganized mess now, but you’d just fix it later. you were too worked up to take your time. 

“so? what, do you think i’m gross now?” you snapped back, embarrassment falling away to irritation. “i told you you didn’t want to read it. just drop it already!” 

“i don’t think you’re gross!” soobin defended rather quickly, to which you raised an eyebrow. “i mean— i don’t care, it’s whatever. i’m just, like… i don’t know, it’s not a big deal.” 

“so drop it.”

soobin sighed, moving slowly to go sit back in sunoo’s beanbag. “okay, fine, i’m dropping it, it’s dropped. i’m sorry, okay?”

you just rolled your eyes. after getting over the initial embarrassment and irritation of the situation, you were ready to just move on with the night. “whatever. are you almost done with that stupid essay? i want takeout.” 

you hadn’t seen soobin in six days. normally that wouldn’t bother you— you had lives— but your next study night was quickly approaching, and you were growing more and more worried soobin wouldn’t show. maybe you should call him, just to apologize…

“maybe he’s just being a prude,” sunoo had supplied helpfully, biting into his sandwich. he had offered you half, as he always did when you had lunch together, but you had turned him down. the idea of eating made your stomach turn. “he probably thinks you’re mad at him and you’re gonna spank him for it.”

you huffed at your roommates giggling, drumming your fingers against the cafe table. “he knows me better than that. i feel like he’s the one mad at me.”

“what would he be mad at you for? being horny?” sunoo snickered. 

“i don’t know… what if he doesn’t want to spend thursdays with me anymore?”

“soobin? stop going to your little dates? doubt it.”

“they’re not dates.” you snapped, voice raised just slightly— you were tired of having this argument with sunoo every time you talked to him about soobin. “we’re just hanging out and studying. he doesn’t even like me like that.”

“oh, so you like him like that then?”

“no! ugh, sunoo, just— whatever! you’re not helping.” you glared angrily down at your iced coffee. you loved sunoo to death, really, but sometimes you just couldn’t stand him— no matter how many times you told him you and soobin were just friends, he would never believe you. 

sunoo giggled again, clearly enjoying your mounting irritation. “okay, okay, i’m sorry. if you’re that worried about it, you could just go and apologize to him yourself.” 

that was the first actual advice sunoo had given in a while. “i don’t even know where he is, though.”

“oh, that’s easy.” sunoo supplied happily. “he’s in his dorm playing video games with his friends. he plays with heeseung-hyung a lot, and that’s what he’s doing right now, so—“

“thank you, sunoo! you know i love you,” you jumped out of your chair to give him a chaste peck on the cheek before gathering up your things and dashing out of the cafe in the direction of soobin’s dorm. you hadn’t even given sunoo the time to finish his sentence. 

“hey, wait, don’t forget your coffee!—“

you didn’t give yourself time to think about knocking on soobin’s door, because you knew if you gave yourself the chance to run away you would take it. he opened the door within seconds— scaring the shit out of you, honestly— messy bed hair and thick glasses framing eyes that looked like a cornered deer. “oh! uh, hey, yn, um—“

“i’m sorry!” you squeaked, cutting him off. you needed to get this out as fast as possible so you could just move on with your life. “i’m sorry i got mad at you last thursday! over the book.“

soobin blinked. “oh. um. alright.”

you both shared a very long, awkward look.

“alright?!” you echoed, growing more irritated by the second. “you’ve been ignoring me for days and all you have to say it alright?!”

soobin’s eyes flickered around anxiously, and it suddenly hit you that you were yelling at him in a public hallway. “i’m not ignoring you—“

“bullshit!” you shrieked. this really wasn’t how you were planning on his apology to go. you opened your mouth to continue, face red with anger, but soobin quickly grabbed your wrist and roughly pulled you into his dorm. you were shocked into silence, eyes wide and mouth agape as he dragged you all the way back to his bedroom. 

“where’s beomgyu?” you asked anxiously, desperate to deflate the tension. the lack of soobin’s roommate screaming at his tv as he played video games only fueled the  anxious pit in your stomach— it was never quiet in this dorm.

“he’s with his girlfriend— does it matter? we need to talk.” soobin let go of your wrist to close his bedroom door, giving you the space you needed to remind yourself that this was just soobin, who ate gummy bears two at a time so they wouldn’t die alone. there was really no reason to feel so jittery… right?

“talk about what?” you ask, attitude back now that you’ve calmed yourself down. soobin was still staring very intently at his doorknob, back turned to you. “why you’ve been avoiding me all week? listen, it’s okay if that book wasn’t up your alley. there’s nothing wrong with being vanilla— there really isn’t any need to get all weird about it. i’m not gonna, like, spank you or anything. we don’t have to talk about it ever again, if you don’t want to, just pretend it didn’t happen—“

“it’s because i want to spank you!” soobin interjected very suddenly, spinning to look at you with wild eyes. his face was bright red. 

“you… what?” you must’ve misheard him. that was the only explanation, surely; there was no way he—

“i can’t stop thinking about it! i thought there was no way you’d be into that stuff, there was no way, but you go and pull this crazy shit and now i can’t go a single second without thinking about putting you over my knee! it’s driving me insane! i can’t even look at you!” 

you opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, surely looking like a fish out of water— this was the absolute last thing you expected to come out of your friend’s mouth. your eyes were wide, your face burned… your pussy clenched pathetically. it came crashing down on you all at once, then, just how horribly you were lying when you said you didn’t have feelings for soobin. you truly never believed he liked you back, however, sure he was too busy playing video games and trying his best to pass his classes. it was like a dream, almost, which might have been why you suddenly felt so brazen— if you wanted soobin, and he wanted you, who were you to deny him?

“then do it.” you said, voice barely above a whisper. soobin looked just as shocked as you were. “if you want to do it that bad, do it.”

soobin moved in a flash, giving you no time to prepare— within seconds you were thrown over his lap, hair hanging in your face as you stared wildly at the carpet. soobin brushed one of his hands against your skirt-clad ass, barely a brush of his fingers, but you still gasped all the same. “do you really want this?” soobin asked, voice low, breathing hard— the outline of his hard cock pressed against your stomach, making it considerably hard to focus, but you still managed to choke out a “yes please.”

soobin stutters out an uneven breath, his fingers inching down to the hem of your skirt, teasing the tops of your thighs for just a moment before pulling the skirt up to expose your ass. “so pretty..” soobin breathed. you felt his cock twitch against your stomach, those long fingers coming back to trace along the edge of your lacy thong. “is it okay if i take your panties off, bunny?”

you whimpered, nodding your head— soobin landed a gentle slap to the junction of your thigh with a chuckle. “use your words like a good girl.”

this couldn’t actually be happening. you had to be dreaming, or hallucinating, or something— silly goofy soobin, your friend who cried watching toy story, was just way too good at this, making your legs shake and your pussy throb while hardly touching you.  in an afternoon your reality had shifted from thinking that soobin had to be the worlds biggest virgin to thinking that soobin is the world’s hottest dominant. 

you weren’t sure how to feel about it, honestly, but your cunt sure did. 

you must’ve stayed silent for too long, because without much warning soobin landed a much harsher spank to the top of your asscheek. “bad girl! c’mon baby, use your big girl words. tell me how much you want it.” soobin goaded, hot breath fanning your ear— you couldn’t hold in your moan, sounding weak and pathetic even to your own ears. 

“p-please… please take my panties off. please spank me.” you whined, face beet red and pussy drooling, making a noticeable wet spot in your pretty little panties— soobin’s deft finger stroked slowly up and down your folds, feeling the wetness seep through. you wanted to scream. 

“that’s my good bunny,” you could hear your panties rip as soobin tore them off of you in one fluid motion, cold air meeting your soaked cunt and making you— and soobin— hiss. it was still and silent for a few fleeting moments, soobin admiring the slick leaking down your thigh, before he straightened up and landed a stinging, eye watering spank deliciously close to your core. it took everything in you to bite back a pathetic yelp.

“that’s for being a fucking tease,” soobin started, soothing your reddening flesh with a soft caress of his palm. “being so fucking hot all the time and convincing me you were out of my league.”

you hadn’t realized that this was confessional. giving soobin an evil smile over your shoulder, you smart, “you’re an idiot. i’ve wanted you forever.”

another spank, this time with even more force. your hips bucked with a shrill cry, eyes watering— you had no idea soobin was this strong. he refused to give you time to prepare. “didn’t say you could talk back.”

you’re on the verge of tears from the red hot stinging in your ass, but you still giggle at soobin’s words. “you’re kinky.”

soobin just rolls his eyes that time, spanking you again. “and this one’s for being a brat. how about you start counting for me, love— one.”

“one?! you’ve hit me four times!” maybe you were pushing it too far, but it just came naturally to you to fight back in some way. you relished losing.

soobin grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked hard, making you gasp loudly and your pussy clench painfully around nothing. leaning down close to your ear, soobin let out a warning growl— “i said fucking count.”

you swore you’ve never been this wet in your life. torn between bucking your hips into soobin’s bulge and pushing back onto his hand, you give a quiet, watery whimper of “one.”

the hand holding your hair lets go at once, letting your head fall limply over his knee. “that’s my girl.” 

another spank. you moan. “two.” 

“three.” you’re crying now. soobin’s hand lingers, fingers ghosting over your sticky folds… you shift your hips and open your thighs to give him access. 

four never comes. soobin pushes two long, thick fingers between your folds, stuttering out a low moan like he was the one being touched. he starts a rough, dizzying pace almost immediately, fingertips searching for that spongy spot… you grind your hips back against soobin’s fingers, a drooling mess against his jeans. “bin…” you whined high in your throat— you needed more, you needed him to slow down, you needed him to go faster… you hadn’t been touched like this in ages.

soobin finds your g-spot with ease, and you have to cover your own mouth to keep yourself from screaming. “such a slut, falling apart just because of my fingers…” soobin chuckled huskily, enamored with the wet sounds your cunt made filling the room. “i’ve thought about this forever, god… you’re just as pretty as i thought you’d be.”

you open your mouth to respond, but a strangled moan comes out instead— soobin’s thumb, wet from your arousal, came down to rub tight, delicious circles on your clit, distracting you enough to push in a third finger into your stretched out hole. the stretch burned but you loved it, hips kicking and moans weak as soobin took you apart. 

“...too much..” you manage to choke out, practically biting down on soobin’s thigh to keep from wailing in bliss. you felt full to the brim, pushed closer and closer to the edge with every rough flick of your clit and thrust of his curled fingers— soobin just giggled meanly, fluttering a fourth thick finger around your stretched and soaked hole.

“oh, bunny, if this is too much there’s no way you’ll be able to take my cock…” 

tears streamed freely down your face, choked sobs wracking your poor little body, but god you were in heaven… you bucked your hips down against soobin’s own bulge, relishing in the sharp intakes of breath he would take every time— he was starting to fall apart too, sounding a lot less dominating and a lot more pathetic with each roll of his hips up into your tummy. “gonna… gonna make you cum on my fingers,” soobin whined low in his throat, hand completely soaked in your arousal. “you gonna make a mess for me?”

soobin’s fingers dug impossibly and wonderfully hard into your sweet spot, that white-hot band of desire in your stomach winding tighter and tighther with each perfectly aimed thrust. you sobbed, hand reaching back to grab tight onto soobin’s shirt sleeve. “‘m gonna cum!”

soobin’s other hand, that had been stroking comfortingly up and down your back, reached down to pinch hard at you clit, making you scream— “gotta ask first, bad girl, gotta ask for permission b-before you cum…” soobin’s voice was starting to break, his hips stuttering helplessly— the feeling of his hard cock grinding hard against you only added to the fire in your belly. 

“can i cum? please binnie, can i cum? i’ll be a good girl, i promise, just let me cum!” you had no control over your mouth, hardly any conscious at all… all you could focus on was the tightening in your belly, the way soobin’s fingers fucked your pussy so good… you were his brainless whore, fucked dumb on his fingers. 

“go on honey, my good girl, my bunny… cum all over me, make a mess.” with his permission you let yourself fall off the edge, moaning like a whore as you soaked your thighs, soobin’s hands and his jean-clad thigh. you laid across soobin’s lap twitching for quite some time afterwards, heaving breaths like you ran a marathon… you’d never come before like that in your life. soobin was with you the whole way, too— sweet as can be as he cooed praises into your hair, petting your back and kissing your head as you came down from your high. you kind of loved him, you realized with a sickening start. 

you also realzied around the same time that you no longer felt soobin’s bulge poking at you. you released your iron grip on soobin’s sleeve to gently cup his very wet crotch. “bin…?”

“sorry, bunny… couldn’t help it…”

[freedomfireflies]

Find Me*

Summary: An extra for Teach Me*

Harry has never slipped into his subspace before.

Until today.

Word Count: 3.5k

*Contains Mature and Explicit Content. Take care of yourself first, only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

“God, please, Bee…please—fuck.”

You watch Harry’s eyes roll back as his hips buck up into the vibrating toy pressed against the tip of his cock. He tugs on the cuffs keeping his wrists attached to the headboard as he curses your name and you can’t help but smile proudly at his reaction.

Harry hasn’t had an orgasm in twenty-four hours.

Twenty-four long, excruciating hours.

Truthfully, you think he’s handled it like a champ.

After all, this was his idea. 

And sure, when he’d suggested edging as something to check off the list, he meant edging you.

Not him.

But here you both are, twenty-four hours into a nonstop fuck-fest.

And it’s been great.

…for you.

You’ve come to learn one very important thing since you both agreed to fuck each other exclusively:

He’s so goddamn beautiful.

In every way. At every time. No matter what he’s doing, if he’s fucking, if he’s speaking, if he’s naked, if he’s asleep. 

And you’ll never get over it. Never be able to look away from him when he’s coming or thrusting into you or begging you to fuck him or rolling you over his cock.

You paint pictures in your head whenever he’s not around.

Of his tan, inked skin that glistens with sweat when he overexerts himself. Of the way his chest rises and falls with desperate gasps for air. Of his curls that fall across his forehead and dance into his eyes. Of the veins in his arms strain from the use of his muscles. 

Which is why you have no problem dragging this little challenge out as far as it can go.

Because Harry makes it all worth it.

“Please,” he groans beneath a forced breath, hooded eyes lifting to find you. “Please, baby…need to feel you. Gotta feel you, Bee—”

His sweet sentiment is lost underneath your own whimper, and your head falls back as you slip the glass dildo in a bit further.

You’ve found numerous ways to torture him. From taking him in your mouth (and popping off before he can come) to riding his cock slowly (and popping off before he can come).

You’ve teased him, fucked him, near tortured him with pleasure just to take it away.

But the one thing that seems to really do it for him…is watching you touch yourself just out of his reach.

You’ve already done this twice in the past day, but this is his final straw. You can tell just from the way his aggressive threats from yesterday have turned into depleted and anguished whines for mercy today.

You’ve never heard him make so many pathetic noises and it’s everything. The soundtrack you could live the rest of your life to.

And you use it to help you ease the toy in and out of your already overused cunt. Because while Harry has had zero orgasms, you have had many. Perhaps too many if the way you have to stop for Gatorade and snacks every couple of hours is any clue. 

But you don’t mind. And neither does he, truthfully. He likes watching you come. Tells you this constantly. And it’s that kind of appreciation and thrill that continues to inspire your next one.

“Harry,” you whisper, lashes fluttering shut as you clench around the toy, and you hear him gasp again. 

He wants that to be him. Wants it more than anything.

Which is why you aren’t giving it to him.

“Bee…” His voice is small. Airy. Almost reverent in a sense as he calls out to you. As he begs you to give him something.

The sounds of your arousal as it’s pushed in and out of you is an erotic symphony and you just about shudder as it echoes around the room.

Harry whimpers. 

And it’s so pathetic and so depraved that it forces your eyes back open so you can see him.

The vibrating object against his cock is dragging him once again to the finish line. The finish line he has seen and lost a plethora of times already. It’s got to hurt at this point. In fact, you know it does. Know he’s barely holding on and your heart aches for him.

You steal a quick glance down at your phone that’s just beside you to look for two things:

The first being so that you can check the settings on the Bluetooth toy to make sure it doesn’t need adjusting.

And the second being so you can see the timer and calculate just how much time is left in this little experiment. 

Five minutes.

He’s only got five minutes left before his twenty-four hours are up, and you’re so fucking glad. You’d almost argue that you need him to come more than he needs it.

Because while making yourself come (either by your fingers, or a dildo, or his cock) is nice, it’s nothing compared to coming with him. Of knowing that he was the one responsible for your pleasure.

Truth be told, you don’t think you’ll be too quick to suggest edging in the future.

You waste a couple more minutes with the glass toy, thrusting it slowly at different angles until your toes are curling and your nails are scratching into the sheets. 

Poor Harry just about loses it as he sees you get closer to your release. Quietly begging you to let him feel you come. To have you ride his cock like earlier as you clench down on him. It’s his favorite thing in the world and you pout when you hear his request.

Three minutes.

You pull the dildo out and you both watch the string of arousal that follows, with Harry writhing against the headboard, once more pulling on the handcuffs. 

To tease him just a little more, you lift it up and bring it to your mouth. Your tongue drags upward, collecting everything in its path until you can wrap your lips around the tip of the toy and take it into your mouth.

Harry’s eyes squeeze shut, and he smacks his head back against the wall, almost as if in retaliation. 

You grin.

After tossing the object aside, you crawl back over to his lap. He continues to keep that pretty green hidden from you as you smooth your palms up his thighs to alert him of your presence. 

And not even after you’ve removed the vibrating wand and begun to straddle him does he look at you. He simply makes a noise in the back of his throat that sounds like a desperate whine before allowing you to take his cock in your hand.

You pump him a few times, just to feel how heavy he is, how needy. He twitches the moment he feels you, a soft sigh slipping from his lips.

And finally, once you gingerly drag him along your cunt, he looks up. 

You reach out to cup his cheek, stroking your thumb across the feverish skin as you whisper, “It’s okay, Har. We’re almost done.”

He perks up, expression growing hopeful. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you hum as you glance back down. “Want you to come with me.”

“Yes,” he breathes, already attempting to wiggle up and assist. “Yes, do anything.”

“Anything?” you tease, brushing your thumb down his lip. “Already done everything for me, baby.”

He seems to bask in this praise, slowly pulling your finger into his mouth until he can suck it sweetly. Mostly just to make your cheeks warm.

Which they do.

When you lower yourself down, you both cry out. You’re so overworked and overstimulated from the past few hours that it’s almost painful.

But that kind of pain feels like ecstasy right now, so you instantly get to work rolling your hips and working you both to the end.

As you do, Harry continues to fight against the restraints, another fruitless attempt at reaching for you.

This is something else you’ve learned he loves. He loves to hold you. Pretty much at any given moment, but especially when you come. 

You’d asked him about it before and he said the emotional intimacy was just as orgasmic and satisfying as the physical intimacy. And you’d laughed because it hadn’t made a whole lot of sense.

But having come so many times in the past day without him holding you has felt rather…unsatisfying.

Empty.

You realize now he was exactly right.

You surge forward and kiss him, and he moans into your mouth as though you’ve given him everything he’s ever needed. As if you’ve given him air in his lungs. As if this is what he’d really wanted.

One minute. 

He’s already begging you not to leave him again, saying your name over and over and over as you attempt to shush him. As you promise to be good to him and let him fill you the way he loves to do.

Your hands scratch down his chest and he hisses at the sting but seems to revel in it. You know he likes the pain. 

He likes to joke that he’s gonna get your marks tattooed on his chest permanently so he can always see them. Always show them off.  

And you always laugh at this but deep down, you know he just might do it.

Right now, you want him to.

You scratch until he bleeds. Until the ruby red blood trickles down his chest and stains the tips of your fingers.

Until he’s whimpering again and thrusting up into you, searching for that release. 

You’re both close. Both so fucking close that you can’t see anything else but the end. You can’t see reason, can’t see how tired you are, can’t see the point.

You just see him.

The timer goes off, the startling melody blaring from your phone speaker as you both jolt.

But this seems to be the perfect jumpstart for you because the second you hear it, you begin nodding fervently as you retake his face in your hands and whisper, “Now, baby. Now. Come for me right now. Please, Harry. Please, need to feel you. Need it, Har, God—”

It’s animalistic and virile the way he cries out for you. The way it fucking rips through him like a blade, forcing you along with it.

It’s everything.

Everything you’d been missing from the previous twenty-four hours, and this is so much better than coming alone.

You kiss him through each second, arms snaking around his neck to keep your bodies close. 

And you hold him. You hold him the way he can’t hold you. You hold him as you both feel it, as you bathe in the euphoric bliss, as you live. 

It feels like hours before you finally come back down and find yourself again. Until you can breathe, and blink, and move.

Your face nuzzles into Harry’s neck and he presses his cheek into your hair, keeping you close.

“How do you feel?” you whisper after a moment, pressing a chaste kiss to his sweaty skin.

He hums.

Chuckling to yourself, you pull yourself back so you can see him again, and the tired, faraway look in his eye makes your pulse stutter.

You reach out to brush your fingers through the damp curls, guiding them off his forehead as he nestles into your touch. “You okay, baby?”

More humming and nodding.

Your smile widens. “My sweet boy…little out of it, hm?”

He says nothing. He only relaxes against the headboard, seemingly content to have you sweep your hands through his hair for the rest of time.

You snort. “Okay, I’m gonna go grab the key and then grab us a snack. Guess we better shower, too—”

Suddenly, he’s sitting up, eyes going wide as you begin to crawl off his lap. “Wait, where…where are you going?”

“Told you,” you call over your shoulder as you make your way for the key on the desk. “Gonna let you go and then get some food.”

He blinks, almost as if trying to process your response.

However, you simply toss him a smile and return to the bed so you can set him free.

He doesn’t watch the key turn in the lock but instead watches your face. He watches your concentration as you attempt to keep him comfortable and pull him free as quickly as you can. He watches your nose scrunch and your brows furrow when it sticks before finally clicking. And he watches you gently drop his arms down to his sides before discarding of the metal restraints.

The moment he’s got use of his hands again, he uses them to grab onto you, and wrestle you onto the bed.

You laugh as you’re scooped up against his chest and rolled over until you’re on your back and he’s tucked into your side.

Now it’s his turn to bury his face in your neck as he takes a deep breath and lets you live within his lungs. 

And you don’t exactly mind.

You stay there for the next few minutes, nails now gently scratching up and down his back to soothe him as he practically purrs.

You love these moments with him.

True to form, you eventually take hold of his wrists and bring them to your mouth, kissing along the angry, pink marks painted across the skin.

He returns to watching you do this, just as mesmerized by your tenderness as he was the first time.

And you exist together. Just like this.

Eventually, fatigue begins to catch up with you, and you’ll only feel truly rested if you’re fed and showered. 

So, you begin to pull yourself out of his grasp, only to have him tighten his arms as he murmurs, “No. Stay.”

You chuckle as you dip down to press a kiss to his forehead. “We need to shower, Har, and then we can come back to bed.”

“No,” he whispers, eyes squeezing shut. “No. Don’t…don’t wanna move.”

His pleas are sweet, and you almost want to coo at him, but you know you need to make him eat something and let him clean himself up. He’ll feel so much better after he has, and you want that for him.

You wrangle yourself out from between his arms and stand from the bed. “Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

You practically skip to the kitchen, despite your weary muscles. You love what you two have. Love the incredible sex and the even more incredible connection.

You love him.

You’ve always loved him. As your best friend, as a partner, as a really great fuck.

He’s just…

Everything.

You make some toast and grab a glass of water before returning to the bedroom. You’ll have him take a few bites and then you’ll drag him to the bath so you both can unwind and talk.

This is another ritual of yours. After each scenario and experimentation, you devote some of the aftercare to talking about it. What worked, what didn’t. What you liked, what you’d prefer not to do again.

These are some of your favorite chats. There’s a certain vulnerability in admitting your preferences in such a way. Somehow more vulnerable than actually being naked with said person. At least for the two of you.

But he loves to hold you, your back against his chest, his fingers interlocked with yours. And you just…talk. Sometimes you’ll tease him about how good he is at something after having only done it one time.

And he’ll tease you about how you secretly love his inexperience because it makes you feel powerful.

Which it does. And you do.

So, today, you’re looking forward to having another one of these chats. You already anticipate some quippy remarks about how he’s not a fan of your methods and you can’t help smiling as you make your way for the bedroom.

When you arrive, you find that there’s something…off.

The boyish smile he usually sports after sex is nowhere to be found, instead replaced with a rather vacant, spaced-out expression. 

You arrive at his side and slowly push the plate and drink toward him. “Har?”

He blinks, head rolling until he can slowly look up at you. 

You feel your pulse stagger. “You okay?”

For a moment, he says nothing. Almost as if he’s running your question through in his mind.

And then…his eyes get glassy. His pretty, pink lips push into a pout, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“Where did you go?” he murmurs, and instantly, your stomach drops. “You…you left. Wasn’t…I didn’t…”

You’ve never heard him speak like this. In such a desolate, forlorn way. 

You place the food on the nightstand and immediately crawl back onto his lap. Your arms wrap around him and you hold onto him so tight, you’re surprised he can still breathe.

“I didn’t go,” you whisper, pressing kisses to his temple. “Promise. I’m right here.”

His large arms snake around your middle as well, fingerprints pressing indents into your sides as he squeezes just as tight.

Then, he disappears into your neck, mumbling something you don’t catch, but even still…it guts you.

You’ve never seen anyone in their subspace before. Especially not Harry. You yourself have only slipped maybe once or twice. 

It’s an incredibly…intense experience. Can make you feel helpless in a sense. Completely dependent on one person, so far removed from yourself and from your consciousness that you don’t know anybody or anything else.

Truth be told, seeing Harry so…small is almost frightening. Because this need to protect him and keep him safe just about overwhelms you. You don’t want him to feel abandoned or scared or unsure.

You just…you want to keep him in your arms forever. Want to tell him that you’ll never leave him. That even if you did…you’d always come back.

“M’right here,” you tell him again, fingers stroking through the hairs at the nape of his neck. “Promise, promise, promise.”

You think he hums his contentment, but you can’t really hear him. You choose instead to believe that he’s relaxing as he loosens his grip on you and presses a kiss to your collarbone.

You lean back to see him. “Wanna take a bath with me?”

He seems intrigued with this, nodding quickly as you gingerly remove yourself from his body and help him off the bed.

Things are quiet for the next few moments. You start the water, crouching beside the tub so you can make sure the temperature is just right. And once it’s ready, you take Harry’s hand, and help him step over the ledge.

This time, he’s the one in your arms. Sitting between your legs, snuggled back against your chest. 

It’s perfect.

You don’t rush to bathe him right away, instead allowing him to simply settle in your embrace as the hot water gently relaxes his muscles.

You don’t try to coax him back to you, either. You let him decide when he feels safe enough to slip out. To return to his own mind instead of yours.

But you do have to admit…you miss him. Miss the normally chatty and borderline annoying man you’ve come to tolerate. 

“Har?” you murmur as you trickle some water down his chest.

He hums.

“Are you gonna let me find you soon?” you ask softly, lips ghosting the shell of his ear. 

“Find me?”

“Yeah.” You drape both arms around his shoulders as your hands come to rest over his butterfly tattoo. “Wanna find you and take you to bed with me.”

The side of his mouth quirks up in a lazy smile. “Can always take me to bed with you.”

You grin, too. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His lashes flutter shut. “Don’t have to find me. M’always here.”

“…are you?”

He hums again.

You aren’t quite sure what that means but you don’t push it further. Whether he’s slipped out of his subspace or not, he’s still your Harry.

And your Harry needs all the love and attention you have to offer.

You stay in the bath for exactly twenty minutes longer before realizing you need to get him into bed before he falls asleep on you.

It’s a bit of a struggle to move him. He’s already half asleep, and very large, and very heavy.

But after wrangling him to the bedroom, you manage to tuck him in, and get him settled.

You’re not far behind. Physically and emotionally spent from the past twenty-four hours. He curls into your side once he realizes you’re there, and you fall asleep with the sounds of his soft breaths against your cheek.

Sometime in the night, you’re awoken by the feel of his thumb sweeping across your jaw. It’s gentle enough not to startle you, and you sigh sleepily as you blink the dreams from your eyes so you can see him.

He’s propped up on his arm as he stares down at you, continuing the tender caresses to your face.

“Hi,” you murmur.

“Hi,” he murmurs back. “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you, I just…I wanted to see you. And I couldn’t wait until morning.”

You fight a grin as you slip your fingers around his wrist and give it a squeeze. “You’re very cute.”

“I know,” he replies teasingly, and you chuckle. “And…I wanted to thank you.”

Your head tilts. “Thank me? For what?”

He takes a moment to study you, a look of adoration on his face.

Then…he smiles.

“Finding me.”

Next Part:

~ Watch Me* (A Teach Me Extra)

Previous Part:

~ Love Me* (Pt. 5)

~ Full Teach Me Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Dedicated to @catlover99sstuff who requested more subspace Harry quite a while ago 😭

Tags: (Since this is an extra, I have no idea if you guys want to be tagged in it, but if not, please let me know! And I will remove you promptly! But if you are okay with being on this list, then welcome back, I've missed you🥹💞)

@onlystylesss28 @winterrays @jessitpwk @aslugforharry @allthelovehes @straightnogayhs @adoringhrry @harrysxcarolina @lillefroe @avasversion @littlelunamoon @harrysgf01 @indierockgirrl @lexiecamposv @spinningoutwaiting4ya @hs-tpwkrry @vyctorya @b-reads-things @thiyaabs @buckybarnessimpp @whoreforjamesbuckybarnes @cherryluvhobi @mybabyh @xellybellyx @harrysxcarolina @reneemunson @juliatpwk @wolfmoonmusic @buckyssbestgirl @wandasbae616 @straightontilmornin @imavirginhoe @nuggetdean @tiaamberxx @chubby-cheek-calum @itsmytimetoodream

[mm-lurking]

MAY I REQUEST FOR ANGST POOKS 😘😝 MYBE ABT BRINGING UP THEIR DEAD EX BY ACCIDENT DURING AN ARGUEMENT? THERES RARELY ANY ANGST IM GETTING MAD 👹

I saw your ask at 11 pm and something about the way you wrote your request made me giggle so hard idk why 🤣 Since you demand angst I shall give it to you. You’re my first ask btw so thank you very much! 

I’m not sure which character you wanted me to write for so I’m going to go for Blade and Aventurine. Though feel free to send me specific characters through the ask again!

Warnings: no fluff at all, pure angst, fem! reader and ex, reader has no chill running her mouth, Aventurine’s kinda feels ooc sorry about that WC: 1881

Blade

You were a hair’s breadth away from being gravely injured. If it weren’t for Blade’s interruption you would have been Antimatter Legion dinner tonight. In your eyes you weren’t in that much danger, you knew you could handle it on your own but in Blade’s eyes, it was just another flashback to how he lost her. It felt frustrating to watch him downplay your capabilities, it's not like you were some weak damsel in distress. There was a reason your relations with the Stellaron Hunters had lasted as far as it had; you were good at wielding your weapon and making good use of the enemy’s weaknesses. Sure there were moments when you were in trouble but you never really got to live the thrill of it because Blade would always step in to help you even when you didn’t ask for it. 

You loved him dearly and appreciated his assistance but just for this instance, you wanted to deal with things by yourself. Ultimately your agitation got the best of you and so now here you were with your arms crossed, glaring at Blade after the enemy was taken care of.

“Have you always been this foolish?”

You stare at him with wide eyes and an open mouth, questioning his audacity of insulting you like this.

“Excuse me?”

“You could have gotten hurt.”

He says matter-of-factly and you feel your jaws clench at the way he speaks to you.

“Blade I am fully capable of looking after myself! I need you to stop interrupting my fights!”

“If I didn’t that Antimatter Legion pawn would have sliced your head off your shoulders.”

“And how the hell do you know that was going to happen?! I could have fought it easily if it weren’t for you!”

He turns around and looks at you with cold eyes which make you flinch momentarily.

“You overestimate yourself.”

“I do not! I have worked relentlessly on my skills! I know what I can handle or what I can’t! You just never allow me to prove it!”

“You are a fool. I do not need to see you pushed to your limits to acknowledge your skills.”

“Then why the hell won’t you let me do what I want?!”

You both argue back and forth with neither of you backing down. Blade speaks calmly, just as he always has but with slight frustration whereas you on the other hand are full-on yelling and boiling over to the point of rage. He takes a deep breath and continues.

“I am just looking out for you-”

“I am not weak like Chun. Stop treating me like I am.”

You almost immediately regret it the moment those words leave your mouth. Your words are sharp and bitter, and pierce his heart like a blade slashing through flesh. His eyes are ablaze with fury and pain and the way his jaw clenches is enough to let you know you have overstepped your boundary.

Chun was his first love. She was a good woman with a kind heart, and despite how odd she looked amongst the Stellaron Hunters, they welcomed her as long as it made Blade happy. But in a world full of evil, being kind is a weakness and ultimately she met her end in the hands of an enemy during heated negotiations. For the one whose life was already cursed by immortality, he took her death hard and swore never to love again, for he couldn’t bear to witness yet another loved one depart for the nth time in his long life. His already broken heart took ages to heal and by the time you crossed paths with him, he was still grieving over her. You knew this very well because it was you who assured him that history wouldn’t repeat itself with you. It was you who helped him heal further and gave him the confidence to open his heart up once more to you. You knew what she meant to him because he had been honest with you about his past yet-

“Blade I-”

-here you were driving the very knife you had taken out of him so lovingly back into his heart in full force. He looks at you with so much despise and agony that your heart hurts knowing you are the cause for it. A blade being stabbed over and over into his body hurt, but those wounds always healed after a while. Yet the wound your words had caused was one that no medication could fix. Your throat tightens and you want to reach out to him and hold him but you stay glued to your feet.

“We don’t need to be around each other anymore.”

Despite the torment he feels, he looks straight into your eyes and monotonously speaks. There is not even a single moment spared for you to reply as he walks out of the room and slams the door shut, indicating he is done with you. The door closing was not just the end of the argument you both were having, it was also the end of what you were to each other. You stand there rooted to the ground as tears sting your eyes. Why did you have to be like this?

Aventurine

“Aventurine I swear to god I am not playing your petty games again.”

You angrily huff as you cross your arms and glare at Aventurine with disapproval. The audacity of this man was truly something, especially at a time like this. You both were stuck in an interesting situation, where Aventurine had made a gamble with an enemy territory and he wanted you to be part of it. More precisely, he wanted to turn you into his bargaining chip for a while. There was one tiny problem. He wasn’t asking for your approval, he had already made the deal.

“The table has already been set, friend. You just have to play your role real well.”

Your jaw hangs low when you realise what he has done. 

“Aventurine don’t tell me….”

“They have decided to ask for you in exchange of information. Do not worry, I will find a way to-“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence as a loud slap resonates across the room. You stare at him in disbelief with tears welling your eyes, unable to process what he has done. A shaky sigh leaves his mouth and he stares at you, bewildered by your behaviour.

“It hasn’t even been a full week since we finished another deal and you want me to jump head-on into another one?!”

“Was there a need to slap me like this? If you’re forgetting, friend, you agreed to help me out on these deals regardless of the risk. Or should I have the doctor examine your memory?”

“Aventurine I agreed to help you out, not be used however you please! You could have at least asked me first before making the deal!”

You rub your temples and rethink the entire situation through. Your relationship with Aventurine was compatible due to one simple fact: you both loved taking risks. The thrill of the gamble and the adrenaline of waiting for the results kept you both alive. It was the drug you both needed in this cruel unjust world.

But this, this was different. This wasn’t just any gamble and it wasn’t a small one either. Being traded off to the enemy territory for a few weeks was no easy task and you have no idea what the hell Aventurine was thinking. In your last deal, you barely made it out alive as the tables turned against your favour. It was a miracle your assets weren’t taken and that you weren’t killed in the process.

“…I promise you will be fine, friend.”

Tears sting your eyes and you try to take a deep breath. 

“How can you be so sure?”

“The gaiaithra triclops blesses me abundantly. We will not lose.”

“Is that what you said to Lilac as well before her demise?”

You hear how his breath hitches in his throat at the mention of Lilac. He coughs a little and then stares at you with a look you cannot decipher.

“Do not bring her up.”

His voice is a mere whisper and you know you’re crossing some lines already. Yet you don’t stop there. You jab your right index finger into his chest with every word you speak.

“I don’t know what’s worse, being a gambling chip on purpose or being a gambling chip unknowingly, like she was.”

He grips the hand you have on his chest tightly. You can’t help but wince a little at how he’s looking at you with red eyes filled with regret and anger. He tries to speak but you cut him off.

“Was losing her not enough to learn your lesson? Or do you turn everyone you love into pawns of your game?”

“You’re crossing the line now.”

He warns and you shake your head.

“You treat everyone like an asset, even the ones who truly love you without any hidden agenda. No wonder you couldn’t save Lilac-“

“Enough!”

Before you can process what is going on Aventurine pulls out a gun from his inner coat pocket and shoots a random vase on the table behind you. The bang of the gun and the loud shattering of the ceramic into pieces makes you jump and shake a little. He then shifts his gaze on you and lets your hand go before issuing his warning.

“…you need to leave. Leave before I accidentally hurt you.”

“I-“

“I said leave!”

He points the gun at you. His hand is shaking in a manner you have never seen before and you can tell he doesn’t want to do this but you’re giving him no choice. You stare at him for a moment and nod your head before scurrying away.

Once you’re out of his sight he plops onto the nearest sofa and drops his gun. It lands with a loud thud as he puts his head into his hands and shakes visibly. Flashbacks of that dreaded day start to play over and over in his head and he clenches his teeth as a tear rolls down his eye.

Lilac was a woman he met during one of his travels as an IPC stoneheart. They got along pretty well and eventually fell in love. A few years ago, Aventurine asked her for help during a deal he made and she agreed only for the other party to target her as leverage against Aventurine. He still remembers the pain in her eyes as she looked at him, confused and hurt from how she became the target. He remembers holding her in his arms apologising over and over for his lack of foresight, unable to figure out where he went wrong.

It was the first and last deal he ever lost. And now you, his new partner after several hard years of grief, were bringing up old wounds that never healed. Gaps of his heart that nothing would ever fill. Another tear rolls down his eye as he grits his teeth further. Had he known you would bring her up like this, he would have never told you about her. It’s always the closest ones that hurt you the most. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

[skibasyndrome]

Wilmon + "you can’t wear that"

If you’re still doing it ◡̈ love what you’ve done so far!

cw: nothing happens, but the implications are very slightly nsfw 🧶🧡

"You can’t wear that!" Wille spins around towards Simon, who is staring at him, with horror written all over his face. He looks more panicked than Wille has seen him in weeks, standing there in the doorway of his own room with only a towel wrapped around his waist, hair still dripping from the shower he just took. Wille frowns at him, turning the soft orange fabric in his hands. He's just reached for one of the shirts scattered on Simon's desk and his spinning chair. They always end up like this these days, since neither Simon nor Wille like doing the work of picking their clothes apart, sometimes don't even find the time (or motivation) to properly fold all the laundry, and for some items they've completely switched over to sharing anyways, so there's no point in wasting time on putting them into separate stacks. Wille's confusion only grows when he examines the label and realizes that this must be one his own.

"I'm pretty sure that's my sweater," he says, very slowly, holding it up so Simon can see. But Simon is already quickly nodding before Wille is done, looking a little flustered. "Yeah, yeah it is." It's too early in the morning for these kinds of riddles. "Then why-" "I haven't washed it yet," is what Simon says, again, way too quickly, running a hand through his damp curls. "You can just take another one and then after we do laundry-" But this isn't making any sense, so Wille stops him. "I haven't worn this one in forever, though, did you wear it?" He doesn't recall seeing his boyfriend in it. And he'd know, because if there's one thing he's still not taking for granted, it's seeing Simon huddled up in his clothes, always just a little oversized on him, a little longer on the arms than necessary, but so beautiful it makes Wille's heart soar whenever he looks at him. Simon shakes his head, cheeks pink and eyes wide. And it doesn't make sense, because it's been forever since Wille has even last seen the sweater at all, in fact, he doesn't even know if he's worn it to the new school a single time, it might even be that he last wore it last winter, he'd even thought he might have lost it in the mess that was last Christmas break, which- The gears are turning and turning until a horrible (and ridiculous. and... weirdly interesting) idea pops into his head. The silence in the room is loud, with Simon staring him down and Wille contemplating if this would he an utterly insane thing to ask.

"Simon," he starts, and he can't quite fight off the grin as he allows the thought to really settle in. "Did you... did you use it to-"

Simon just groans loudly, throwing his hands over his face in frustration. "Please, can you just wear anything else."

When the giggle breaks out of Wille, he drops the sweater back onto the pile, crosses the small space and pulls Simon into him to press a kiss onto his heated cheek.

Thank you so, so much for the lovely prompt, Emma, and I'm very sorry for making you wait such a long time for it!!! Hope you like it!!! 💜💜💜

Send me "Wilmon" + a sentence and I'll write you 5(+) more

[maxinemaxmayfield]

DOUBLE DRABBLE DAY!? For the @strangerthingswritersguild daily drabble prompts (plural!): chill / give in 700 words, teen & up (pre-relationship steddie, post-s4, recreational drug use)

CHILL

Neither of them likes being alone; Steve’s house is too empty, too big, too cold. Every corner is filled with nothing but the reminder that no one cares enough to be there for him, not even his own parents.

Eddie’s trailer, on the other hand, is too full. Ghosts haunt every corner, reminders of the people he couldn’t save, the ones he almost lost, and the hellmouth to another dimension that cracked through his fucking ceiling and changed his life. Sometimes it feels so crowded he can’t breathe. 

So they drive. They never know where they’ll end up. Sometimes it’s the movies, or the diner, or the quarry. Tonight, the weather’s mild and dry, sky clear enough to see all the stars, and Steve swings into a cornfield. 

Eddie tosses him a look.

“What?” Steve asks, driving far enough that they can’t see the road they left behind them. “I don’t wanna be around people.”

“I’m people,” Eddie points out, cocking an eyebrow.

Steve snorts. “You don’t count.” 

“Maimed!” Eddie crows, grabbing one of Steve’s hands from the wheel and dragging it to his chest, like he’s plunging a knife into Eddie’s very heart. The car swerves. “Wounded! Aggrieved!” 

“You know what I mean,” Steve says, pulling his arm from Eddie’s grasp to plant it back on the steering wheel. “I don’t have to think around you. I can just… chill.” 

Steve eases onto the brake to bring them to a stop, nothing but corn as far as the eye can see. He leaves the radio on, playing some shit he doesn’t actually care enough to listen to, and gets out to lean on the hood. It’s still warm. 

Eddie joins him a moment later, already pulling a joint from his pocket. He pats down his jacket, looking for a lighter. He’s always losing them.

Steve has one out and ready in second, used to it at this point. He extends the flame towards Eddie.

Easy. Routine. Muscle memory. 

GIVE IN

Eddie doesn’t waste any time draping himself across the hood of Steve’s car, hair spreading out like a halo. Stars reflect in his wide eyes as he stares at the sky like he wants to memorize it. 

“Ever wonder if there’s life out there?” Eddie asks around an exhale of smoke. 

“There’s enough weird alien shit here in Hawkins, dude. I don’t need to think about the whole universe.”

“Fair.”

It’s quiet for a while, just the faint sound of wind jostling the stalks around them as they pass the joint back and forth.

At some point, they slide down, sitting on the hard ground with their backs against the front of the Beemer. At some point, Steve realizes that he isn’t watching the night sky anymore. He’s watching Eddie’s tongue poke out from his lips, always moving even when he isn’t talking, like he’s having a silent conversation with himself. 

“Willpower,” Steve says aloud. Eddie turns.

“Huh?”

“Like, as a concept. Do you think people shouldn’t always do what they want cause it might be kinda bad for them?” 

Eddie laughs, a deep sound that quickly gets lost in the miles of corn around them. “You’re asking the town drug dealer if he thinks people shouldn’t partake in things that might be bad?”

“Okay, but what about… other stuff?” 

“Man, life’s too short. We’re goddamn walking evidence of that. If you really want something, crave something, fuck it. Give in.” 

So Steve does. He gives in. He closes the space between him and Eddie, reaches out to cradle his palm against Eddie’s cheek, draws him even closer and kisses him. 

It’s short, just the press of lips together, smokey and dry and chaste. When Steve pulls back, Eddie doesn’t move, eyes wide and jaw slack. 

Steve thinks he might have made a mistake. “You, uh… still stand by that advice?” 

“Advice?” Eddie asks, dumbfounded. 

“To give in…”

Something clicks into place behind Eddie’s shocked eyes. “Oh, shit, that’s what you were talking about?” 

Steve nods; can’t help but feel amused. 

“I’m really fucking glad I didn’t tell you to resist, then,” Eddie says, and captures Steve’s lips once more, with such enthusiasm that they both end up in the dirt.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hi, I would like to ask for a story / script about kabe-dong with the guys from Lookism (Seo is desirable, but you can make it to your taste)

God I love your work so much 😗❤️‍🔥

(Sorry for my English, I don't really speak it and I do everything through a translator)

Anon! Please don't apologise for your English, and through a translator?? Dedicated! Thank you for teaching me something new! I had to google this, and I didn't realise there's a name for this move. It might just be my greatest weakness ughhhhh.

Lookism x Reader: Kabedon with Samuel, Gun, Johan, Goo, Jake

+ HTF: Taehoon, Seongjun

Very different scenarios for each one. Daniel and Zack giving you a taster of what kabedon is 👇

You feel a tug on your wrist, whirling you around until your back slams against the wall, all air knocked out of your lungs.

"Oof!"

A hand lands onto the wall next to your head, and a solid body stands in front of you. Trapped.

.

.

Samuel Seo

Your eyes widen in surprise at his forwardness. This had been strictly off-limits according to him. Absolutely no funny business at work Samuel had warned.

"Samuel?"

You can see your own look of surprise reflected in his glasses as he smirks.

His free hand lands on your waist, caressing down to your hips before winding its way around to grope at your ass.

A very undignified squeak slips out.

"I couldn't resist," Samuel chuckles against your neck, leaving feathery kisses.

"Samuel... we... shouldn't!" You force out between gasps, though you make no move to stop him.

"I know," he says, pressing the full length of his body to yours. "Tell me to stop."

You blush furiously when you meet his eyes.

"Tell me to stop," he repeats again.

"...N-no." You stammer, and that's all the invitation he needs.

.

.

Gun Park

"Do I scare you?" Gun taunts, face inches from yours, smirk on his lips and victory within reach. He has you cornered and he knows it.

You give him a toothy grin, teeth stained with blood and tell him no. And that's the truth. This game of cat and mouse makes you feel alive.

He arches a brow, "Only an idiot would have no fear in their final moments."

You notice his hand against the wall trembling almost imperceptibly, the pose half for show, half needing the support to hold himself upright. His other arm hangs limp by his side, having lost use of it after your first strike. His left eye already beginning to swell and bruise. The crimson pouring from the slash on his stomach, your scratches on his chest, his split lip.

You want to see him drown in his own blood.

"Gun Park," your fingers walk their way up his ripped shirt until you reach his neck. "You can kill me but you would miss me."

Gun's curiousity is piqued, not being able to figure out your next move.

With a vicious yank of his collar, you smash his lips to yours.

.

.

Johan Seong

"Johan?! What are you doing here?"

At your words, all energy seems to leave Johan. He removes his hand and looks at you as if he doesn't know why he's here neither.

"Johan?" You ask, brows knitted in concern why your boyfriend would turn up at your school.

"I... " he starts, but can't bring himself to say the next words. He turns his head, averting your gaze.

"Is everything ok?"

Johan murmurs something under his breath that you can't catch.

"What?"

"Imissedyou" rushes out in a jumble. And then you notice the flush, from his hairline all the way down to his collar.

"Oh." This boy. Seriously. Can he get any cuter.

You tell him so and that's what causes his prickliness to return.

"I'm not cute," he scowls.

"Sure you're not," your words are insincere but Johan is placated, defences crumbling, when you reach up on your toes and kiss him.

.

.

Goo Kim

Goo blinks owlishly at you as you just continue to stare.

You expect him to do something, but he just stands stock still, not having planned this far ahead.

"Ok... Now what?" you ask.

"I dunno," A shrug. "Just thought it looked hot in animes. That was hot, right?"

You nod. Although you find almost everything Goo does pretty hot, which you would never tell him because his ego does not need any more inflating.

"Hmm," he taps his chin with his other hand for a moment as he thinks.

A devious glint in his eyes and smarmy grin appears.

"Wanna kiss?"

And unfortunately, you find that pretty hot too.

Goo knows he has you wrapped around his finger. You give another nod.

.

.

Jake Kim

"Fancy meeting you here," he purrs and the urge to roll your eyes doesn't come because with Jake, the line works.

Your thoughts fizzle and on auto-pilot, you move your lips to his. Just wanting a quick taste. Just for a moment... Before you snap to your sense.

"Jake!" you scold, face pinched, "You're interrupting!"

"Hmm? I thought someone was bothering you."

You glare at him, unswayed by his handsome grin.

"Sorry, sorry, where are my manners..." Smoothing his hair back, Jake turns and directs his charm to your classmate.

A rather cute and popular boy. Apparently. You didn't see it though. But everytime you mentioned him in front of your boyfriend, talking about your time spent together, him helping you out after school, Jake's jealousy would flare up. There's been a few times you haven't been able to walk properly for days after.

(So what if you occasionally use this to your advantage.)

Reaching out for a handshake, "Jake Kim. Y/N's boyfriend."

Jake at full force really is something to behold. He smiles and even throws a wink at your friend.

You see his magnetism take hold in real time.

Like something out of a k-drama, time slows down and a luminance radiates from Jake. The other boy gasps, taking in his tall stature, eyes running down his body hungrily and cheeks flushing.

His hand inches slowly towards Jake's. When they finally meet, an unexpected gust of wind literally sweeps your friend off his feet and straight into Jake's arms.

"N-nice to meet you," he stammers, now beet red, staring at Jake with stars in his eyes and making no effort to move. Who knew such solid and muscular arms could be so comfortable?

Third wheeling in the background, you loudly scoff at the scene unfolding.

.

.

Seong Taehoon

"Get your stinkin' feet away from me!"

Your efforts to free yourself and push his leg away from the wall is futile. Taehoon unruffled and unmoving, watches with his hand in his pockets.

"Those are Korea's legs you're manhandling,"

"Hmph."

"You still mad?"

Evidently.

Taehoon clicks in tongue in exasperation, "Cmon, stop being an idiot."

"..."

"How is it my fault that I'm this hot."

"..."

"Why am I being blamed for those girls flirting with me?"

"..."

"I didn't do anything!"

"..."

"You should be happy you're with someone so handsome-"

You hand shoots out, having heard enough and wanting to clamp his stupid mouth shut.

Taehoon easily intercepts and holds it steady in his. Damn this guy and his lightning reflexes.

"Don't be like that," he brings your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles. "I'm yours, you dumbass."

.

.

Baek Seongjun

"You're here." Seongjun holds your chin with his other hand, thumb gliding along your lower lip.

"What can I say, I'm a big fan."

A very sticky situation for you if this got out: the producer should never mess around with the talent.

But what can you say, Seongjoon's appearance on your show led to the ratings hitting an all time-high. After one too many celebratory drinks with him and your team, lines quickly becoming blurred, you both discreetly bid everyone goodbye and ended up at his home.

"You're going to regret this." Seongjoon murmurs in your ears, shifting his weight, hands now working quickly to unbutton your pants.

The speed of your movement matches his as you almost tear his shirt open. "I already do."

[bonezone44]

but pervy roller derby coach joel and seasoned derby girl fucking in joels truck after a bout when ezra finds them with the windows all fogged up… ofc he joins in

You fucking know it!

Roller Derby Coach!Joel Miller x F!Reader x Boyfriend!Ezra

tags: unprotected p-in-v, double creampie, Ezra and Joel being spiteful towards one another. praise, degredation, use of the word "whore" but in a sexy way

--

He wanted to offer you a personal congratulations after helping your Jammer get point after point, resulting in your team's win. 157 to 163. It was a close one and your offense is what made the difference. Joel lost count of how many times you knocked the opposing Jammer off the track, running them back and killing their spirit. He's surprised you still have any energy left after all that work.

But here you are in his truck with him, bouncing on his cock like it's nothing. You got nothing on but your sports bra and youre soaked in sweat with your gear airing out in his flat bed.

Then Ezra’s wandering around the parking lot outside the rink, wondering where the hell you are because there's an after party to go to. And he already smoked a couple joints with the referees, and you still hadn't appeared. Then he sees the foggy window, the way the truck is bouncing, and he can't help but creep closer. His whole body floods with heat when he sees your gear. He looks around, sees if anybody has eyes on him before opening up the passenger door.

"Shit!" Joel curses.

You both stop in a panic. Your hands gripping his biceps to stabilize yourself.

Ezra's all smiles. "You don't think she's done enough work tonight, Coach?" He chuckles at your silent, shocked faces. He climbs inside and shuts the door behind him. "Our superstar here requires appreciation. Not more strain on her supremely effective musculature." He crawls closer.

"How 'boutchu--" Joel begins.

Ezra wraps his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss.

Joel’s hands are still tight on your hips. Watching Ezra's tongue meet yours makes his cock twitch and pisses him off at the same time. He grunts.

Ezra's hazy eyes slide over to Joel's after he pulls away from you. "How 'bout I what, Joel?"

Joel snarls and shoves Ezra back with a broad palm to his chest. "How 'boutchu see with your eyes and not with your hands?" He turns back to you. "She's mine right now, and I ain't gonna let you touch her 'til I'm done with her."

Ezra chuckles and undoes his pants, pulling his hardening cock out. "Go ahead and fill her up good, then." He smirks and begins to stroke himself. "Patience is a virtue, and although I am far from a virtuous man, I have been known to wander briefly on the path of the principled." He breaths deeply through his nose, taking in the smell of sweat and sex. "A path more easily endured when enticed by heavenly rewards."

Joel rolls his eyes. "Does he ever shut the fuck up?"

Ezra chuckles again. "You best make haste, old man, before that little blue pill wears off and you go softer than an ice cream cone in the Fourth of July sunshine."

Joel smirks at Ezra and shakes his head. He turns back to you, his hands slide up your sides, grip your breasts through your bra. "You ever seen me take a pill?"

"No," you shake your head. You're so overwhelmed by the situation, you're surprised you were able to say anything at all. And Joel's strong fingers are working your chest, working the muscles in your hips and thighs.

"I don't need no pill," he says with a haughty grin, thrusting up into you. "I don't need her to ride me, neither," he adds for good measure. "I can make her come with my cock alone." He holds you still and you angle your hips slightly as his own hips jump in the seat. "Come on, baby. Show 'im how good this cock is. Come on, now."

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and dig your face into his neck, moaning and keening with every strong thrust. You hear Ezra moaning, too. You turn your head to the side and see him panting, biting his lips. He goes from jerking himself off to squeezing his cock at the base and shaking it, staving off his orgasm with a desperate look on his face. It's all so much, you're sent over the edge--your orgasm barely noticable amidst Joel's relentless assault. How can you come down when everything around you is still building and escalating?

"Gonna fill this pussy up, now," Joel groans. His meaty claws close and spread your asscheeks as he begins to grind into you.

You try to remind yourself to breathe as you squeeze him tighter, whimpering and panting.

"Gonna give you all this come," he groans again and you feel a rush of warmth inside of you.

"Come here, baby," you hear Ezra speak up. "Lemme feel that." And before you know it, you're in Ezra's lap. His cock slides readily into yours and he pants and moans pathetically. "Oh fuck, oh shit, oh shit, baby. That's so good." His hips are barely moving as he holds you close against him, but the squelch of your messy pussy is loud. "Mmmm-that's so good. that's that good shit right there. Oh fuck, baby. Gonna fill you up, too. Mmhmm--gonna give you that sloppy cunt, huh? You like that, baby?" His eyes go wide and you're locked in, nodding and agreeing to whatever he says. "You like bein naughty? You like being filthy?"

At this point, it doesn't matter what either of them say. You'll agree to just about anything that comes out of their mouths--and their cocks.

"Fuckin filthy," he mutters with a snarl and brings his hand down to your ass with a harsh, solid slap. "Fuckin filthy whore. Nnnngg---" He comes inside of you.

You feel dizzy. Spent. Tired. Dazed. You should probably hydrate soon. And you wonder if anyone else on the team is looking for the three of you. You hope Joel has some napkins somewhere in his car, but you're not too worried because you have a pack of wet wipes in your gear bag. You never thought you'd use them for something like this, but... so it goes.

No one suspects a single thing at the after party. You throw back a few shots with your teammates and leg wrestle on the bar floor. You dance to the salsa music someone is playing on the juke box. You consider doing those pelvic floor exercises you saw on youtube once.

------------

a/n: I love life and I love being alive.

[tachiharastanacc]

Tachi fic time!

Michizou didn’t like talking to his parents on the best of days. And today was a far cry from a good day.

It was his own fault really. He’d gotten ahead of himself, so confident in his abilities that he’d gotten sloppy. Although, realistically, even if the plan had gone off perfectly, this still probably would’ve been the result.

Still, sitting in front of the family he hadn’t seen in months with a man he’d met only a day ago wasn’t ideal. Especially when that man was currently staring at his parents like they’d told him to kill someone.

And technically they had.

“…only to show up out of nowhere with an escort from the military police! Honestly, I can’t imagine where we went wrong! If your brother were here-“

“My brother is dead.”

“And it should’ve been you instead!”

“That’s enough.”

The man didn’t yell. He hadn’t yelled once since Michizou had met him. Even after Michizou had pointed a sword at him. The man’s own sword, to be specific.

His mother had the decently to look a bit embarrassed, though she made sure to level her son with a look reminding him whose fault it was that she was scolded.

“This is the second time you’ve made such a comment in the four minutes since I’ve been here. Surely you, a mother who has already lost a son to war would know the pain that comes with losing a child.”

“With all due respect, sir,” his father practically spat, “you know nothing of our family. Our lives. We’ve been grieving our son for a long time.”

“And forgetting about the son that still lives.”

His mother grabbed a napkin off the table.

Michizou couldn’t help but roll his eyes, knowing exactly where this was going. She kicked him under the table.

“You don’t understand how hard it’s been.”

She dabbed at her, very much still dry, eyes with the cloth napkin. “Every time I look at him, I see Shunzen’s face. Having him here, it’s just painful. And he’s so difficult! Always running off and getting into trouble! Dragging our family name through the mud! We’d all be better off without him!”

Michizou crossed his arms. He could see the man next to him tense up a bit at the statement.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do! I mean it with all of my heart!”

She turned to him.

“I wish you were dead.”

And there it was.

She could only bitch about him for so long before reminding him how little she wanted him.

The man in the uniform stood up, pulling out the sword from his belt and turning to the young teenager. He held the tip to his throat, emotionless.

“H-hey wait!”

“If I were to kill him right now, would your words still hold true I wonder?”

Neither of his parents flinched. In fact, they seemed completely neutral. Detached.

“I said I’d return the stuff! Y-you’re not actually gonna kill me, right?!”

None of the adults looked at him, busy with whatever pissing contest they were having with each other.

Maybe he could take this chance to escape? The man was strong, abnormally so, but he was distracted. And his weapon was really only metal. If Michizou could disarm him quick enough…

He sheathed the blade.

“…understood. We’re leaving.”

“Huh?”

The man fully turned to him. “We’re not wanted here. Therefore, there’s no point in us sticking around.”

He practically pulled the thirteen year-old out of his chair, dragging him to the door.

“Thank you for the tea.”

His voice remained even, his words polite, but there was a quiet rage in his eyes.

“Good riddance!”

Despite the years of hearing the same words over and over, it still stung just a bit. He’d come so close to being killed in front of them, and they couldn’t even pretend to care?!

The man stopped suddenly on the stoop.

“Tachihara.”

“Michizou.”

“Tachihara.”

Michizou glared at him. “That’s my brother’s last name.”

“It’s yours too.”

“It’s not. They don’t like me using it.”

The man spared a brief glance back at the door. “Do you really care what they like?”

Fair point.

“…fine. Tachihara.”

The man nodded. “I don’t like people like that.”

His grip tighter a bit, causing Tachihara to wince. Seriously, just who the hell was this man?!

With a muttered apology, he let go, patting the boy a bit too hard on the back instead.

“People like what?”

He’d never actually been arrested before. The police nearby knew him and usually let him off with a warning. He wasn’t a fan by any means, but he was at least a bit grateful, even if it meant stomaching the pitying looks when they learned he was caught stealing things like bread or bottles of water.

“People who sit and look down on others. They don’t know what it’s like, being on the frontlines, watching your men die, yet they claim to have it worse. Like the world revolves around them. That’s what they do. The ones on top.”

He began walking down the driveway. Confused, Tachihara followed him. He had a pretty strong feeling this was about more than just his parents.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m taking you to meet the others.”

As if that explained anything.

Still, the man was waiting now. Watching him with those intense eyes that bore into his parents just minutes before.

He took a few hesitant steps after him. He was expected to follow, right? Or was he getting ahead of himself?

“What others?”

The man smiled warmly, though the coldness in his eyes wasn’t entirely gone, along with a hint of something Tachihara couldn’t quite place.

“You have a strong ability. With my help, you could be incredibly powerful.”

“So…”

“I’m offering you a job.”

“…and if I refuse?”

“Well, I could always make good on my word and kill you for real.”

Tachihara stared at him, eyes wide. None of this made any sense. Really though, who was this guy?

The man’s gaze was cold as the steel Tachihara controlled. He took a few large strides over, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder.

After a moment of intense eye contact (and the youngest Tachihara almost forgetting to breathe), the man grinned once again and let out a loud laugh. His unpredictability was consistent, the boy would give him that.

“Relax. I’ll give you time to think about it on the way over.”

Thus, thirteen year-old Tachihara Michizou found himself in a car with the famed war hero Fukuchi Ouchi, driving outside the city limits.

For what it was worth, Fukuchi was kind- in a strict, try-hard step dad kind of way. Though, somewhere in the back of his mind…

He never actually said he wouldn’t kill me.

(@starlightshadowsworld bc I had abt an hour on the train earlier)

[flyingwargle]

flufftober day 26: "i can't find it."

atsumu lost his hearing aids.

it isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last, although the last was in high school, when he had yet fully grasped how expensive they were. after he moved out, ma declared that he’s old enough to pay for them himself, and he thought he’d done well, so far. clearly not.

the case is usually on his nightstand, unless he brings them for an away game, and that’s exactly what happened. he didn’t wear them on the bus – he can’t hear anything over the engine, regardless – and went about his day in silence before falling asleep. it’s only now, right before his date with omi, that he notices their absence.

he lets out a dry chuckle. if the hotel contacts him, he won’t be able to answer, and if he somehow manages to ask to mail them back, it’ll take a few days. luckily, there isn’t practice until later in the week, so he should be safe…if he can contact them soon.

his phone vibrates in his hand. it’s omi. i’m at your door. can you not hear the bell?

definitely not. he hurries to unlock it, and omi stands on the other side, mask in place, dressed in casual clothes. his mouth moves, but atsumu quickly signs, “i lost my hearing aids. i can’t hear you.”

omi stops. he lowers his mask to say and sign, “you idiot. where?”

“the hotel. i think i left them on the nightstand.” they usually share a room for away games, but because they were in tokyo, omi stayed with his parents’ instead. atsumu didn’t hear his alarm and had to run for the bus, accustomed to having someone shake him awake.

“i’ll contact them, and ask if they can mail them. you don’t have replacements, do you?”

atsumu shakes his head. omi nods. “okay.” he steps out of his shoes and lines them along the genkan, making a beeline to the bathroom to wash his hands. when he returns, his phone is to his ear, lips moving as he speaks to whoever is on the line.

today, they planned a visit to the outdoor art exhibit at the park, lunch at onigiri miya, and a visit to the farmer’s market to buy groceries for dinner. it’s still doable, atsumu thinks – he’ll have to endure osamu’s teasing, unfortunately – but he waits for omi to finish before he signs, “are we still good for today?”

omi gives him a look. “yeah. why wouldn’t we?” he lowers his arms, waits a beat before he signs, “the hotel has your hearing aids. they’ll mail it back today, and it’ll arrive in a day or two.”

“okay. thanks, love.” atsumu smiles at the blush reddening his partner's cheeks, chuckling when omi shoves him toward the bedroom so he can finish changing.

a few minutes later, they’re on their way to the art exhibit. omi keeps his mask tucked beneath his chin, using both hands to sign back while atsumu uses one hand. neither of them are familiar with art, but it’s their middle ground because the exhibits aren’t usually crowded, so they can hear each other make comments about the different works.

the outdoor exhibit is free, organized by the local art society. many are ikebana displays, with some artwork and statues. each have a placard for them to read, and atsumu stops omi to point at an ikebana display meant to represent a thunderstorm. “that looks cool,” he signs. omi nods in agreement.

out of the corner of his eye, he spots a couple watching them, mouths agape. there are always people watching whenever he signs, as if they’ve never seen jsl before – and maybe they haven’t. atsumu ignores them the best he can, but omi catches the stiffness in his movements, notices the couple over his shoulder. his lips move as he calls out to them, and the couple quickly moves away. omi turns back to him, signing, “let’s look at those paintings over there.”

they finish looking around, and start their way to onigiri miya. atsumu holds onto omi’s hand, keeps his other hand in his pocket, self-conscious. omi, as if sensing his reluctance, communicates with him through gentle strokes of his thumb across his hand, small squeezes, and eye contact. it’s their own language, quiet reassurances of one another’s presence.

omi slides the restaurant door open. the lunch hour has passed, and osamu is behind the bar, greeting them with a characteristic grimace at his twin, and atsumu is grateful that he can’t hear whatever insult osamu came up with today. until omi signs, “this idiot lost his hearing aids” and osamu is quick to catch his eye and sign, “you’re a scrub.”

“fuck you, too,” atsumu retorts. osamu grins, gestures for them to sit, and gets to work.

“hope you’ve been getting some peace,” osamu signs one-handed while speaking to omi. “’tsumu becomes non-verbal without his hearing aids.”

“i noticed,” he replies. “to be honest, i miss his voice.”

“aw, ya just had ta say so,” atsumu says. the disconnect between speaking but not hearing himself is uncanny, with how he feels his jaw move, lips shaped into vowels, but all that comes is a garbled mess that he can only hope sounds like what it’s supposed to be. “can’t go a day without me yappin’, huh?”

osamu motions at him. “don’t force yourself.” that’s code for yer tryin’ too hard. in the early days when he just got his hearing aids, he would force himself to speak despite struggling with tones and speech patterns, and was often bullied as a result. he wouldn't have learned jsl if osamu didn't learn alongside him.

“i can wait until you’re comfortable speaking to hear your voice,” omi adds, signing to atsumu. “we can still talk like this.”

“not when we’re eating,” he complains, gesturing at osamu wrapping their onigiri.

“you don’t need two hands to eat, do you?” osamu signs, passing over a plate of negitoro onigiri. “yours is next, sakusa.”

he continues to sign one-handed while he works, and so does atsumu, but omi, who isn’t as fluent, uses both hands. a few customers watch as they exit, and atsumu feels the weight of their stares on his back, but osamu is quick to raise his head and say goodbye, an effective dismissal. atsumu is grateful, throwing him a lopsided thanks on his way out, ducking under the noren after omi.

“it’s okay if you want to skip the market,” omi signs, turning to him. “we can order takeout instead.”

atsumu shakes his head. “i’m fine, just feeling a bit shy. it’s been a while since i only used sign.”

“don’t be. we communicate in different ways, and jsl is one of them. we could talk shit and no one would know.”

of course his partner would be mischievous like that. atsumu grins. “you’re right.”

the afternoon is more fun, now that atsumu signs unabashedly, although omi catches about half of what he says, and it turns into a pseudo-lesson as they browse the fresh produce, seaweed, and homemade goods. they return to atsumu’s apartment with bags full of ingredients for dinner and treats to share, cooking together with a mixture of sign, shouts, and wild gestures at steaming pots, waving knives, and mimed actions.

it's fun and chaotic, only possible thanks to his lost hearing aids. although atsumu would love to hear his partner, this is fine too. if omi can wait to hear him, then he can wait, as well.

[snapghoul]

I know there’s better brothers, but you’re the only one that’s mine.

Ethan crashes at Mav’s place.

⤷ continuation/prelude of this mini fic

Note: now I’m obsessed with Ethan & Mav twins, I’m having so much fun.

Warnings: mention of blood and minor injury

Song: Brother - Murder By Death

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Ethan was far from enjoying himself; the IMF's relentless barrage of operations was wearing him thin. To him, a vacation meant vanishing for a mere three days before they inevitably tracked him down.

His back ached and a fresh gash throbbed on his forehead from yet another pistol whipping. Perhaps it was time to reconsider his career; his old bones were growing too weary for this.

The light flicked on, and Ethan squinted against the blinding brightness. It was probably around seven in the morning, and he was nestled uncomfortably on the carpet. Soft footsteps approached, and a shadow fell over him.

"Pete, the light," he mumbled, his eyes still squeezed shut, sensing Pete's familiar presence.

"Well, hello to you too, little brother," Pete chuckled, dimming the lights to a gentler glow.

"Four minutes, by four minutes," Ethan sighed, slowly pushing himself up from the floor.

"Four minutes is a long time," Pete said with a grin as he headed to the kitchen, where the coffee pot was already brewed from the night before. "You know, a heads-up would be nice. One day I’m going to step on you and break my leg or something."

“I heard you coming.” Ethan grumbled and shuffled to the counter. Normally, he was always alert, but he let his guard down when invading his twin’s home.

“Sure.” Pete had already set out a mug for him, and Ethan appreciated his brother’s thoughtfulness. Pete never asked questions or gave lectures. Neither of them had room to judge; they both had their fair share of reckless moments—must be in their blood.

"You and your fancy suits," Pete said after a sip of coffee, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he surveyed Ethan. "I can’t believe you find those comfortable.”

"At least I have style," Ethan shot back with a grin. "I bet if I looked in your closet, I'd find eight of the same shirt."

"Nothing wrong with having multiples of a favorite," Pete defended, nodding to his wardrobe of four shirts and jeans. "Also, I think Bradley is planning to stop by. It might be best to fix your face before he gets here."

Ethan shook his head with a tired chuckle as Pete gestured to his dirt-smeared, bloodied face. Pete moved away from the counter to find the first aid kit, which irked him slightly since he had just restocked it after pinching his hand in an engine.

“How’s the kid?” Ethan asked, nursing his coffee. He didn’t question Pete and their pseudo-nephew’s renewed bond; he knew it was a positive development.

“Taller,” Pete called back.

Ethan chuckled and started pacing the room to entertain his mind, his gaze drifting over the pictures and awards on the walls. He smiled softly at a black-and-white photo of him and Pete sitting on the wing of an old P-51 Mustang, their grins wide. Next to it was a more recent picture of Pete surrounded by twelve pilots in front of an F-18. The group wore a vibrant mix of colorful helmets and were clearly enjoying the moment.

“That’s the Daggers—or, as some of them say, my children,” Pete said, returning with the first aid kit and a wide grin. Ethan laughed, recognizing the respect and affection the Daggers had for Pete.

“At least one of us has kids,” Ethan said with a smirk, earning a playful smack on the arm from Pete with the first aid kit.

Bonus:

Jake was accustomed to making himself at home in Mav’s house. After spending so much time here with Bradley, he walked in and immediately started fixing a cup of coffee. He had been pulled out of the house before he could have his usual morning drink, so he was eager to make up for it.

Just as he was lost in his coffee-making routine, Mav’s voice cut through his focus. “Oh, Hangman, when did you get here?” Mav’s sudden appearance startled Jake, causing him to jerk and drop the mug he was holding. It shattered on the counter with a loud crash, and Jake let out an exclamation of surprise.

Mav, equally surprised by Jake’s reaction, looked at the broken mug. Fortunately, it was a plain white one and not one of his treasured collectibles. Jake, still puzzled, turned to Mav.

“How did you get in here? You were just—” He pointed behind him toward the screen door. “There’s no way you could’ve sneaked in. Did you come through the front?”

“No, I’ve been here the whole time,” Mav said, trying to stifle a laugh as his green eyes twinkled with amusement. Jake’s brows furrowed in confusion, and he quickly leaped over the shards of the mug and dashed outside.

“Wait— Lieutenant, clean this up first!” Mav called after him. Jake didn’t respond and continued stumbling out through the screen door.

[buriedpair]

Your ocs are so interesting, I found you through a repost of another yandere blog I love but now I also love yours so get ready for my weird asks.

So what if MC is a god, not a good one nor a bad one, not popular but neither unknown. That doesn't matter to them, they have unlimited power and are immortal. So what best way to use that power than go to gamble for the fun of it? They are cunning and extremely confident (for obvious reasons) and treat others with basic respect but it is apparent that they view them as ants compared to them.

You can choose which OCs find out they are a god and wich don't. How would they react? How will they act around them?

Specifically for DD, MC decides to gamble their life and loose just to fuck with them as they try to pierce their skin and it's simply impossible (or maybe not and they love too much and spare them, I still don't know what he would do if their beloved lost their life)

-🦊 anon

OOOH THIS IS COOL!!! THANK YOU !!!!

Yandere!OCs x GN God!Reader

(Pssst, TW for a mention of suicide)

Amias

Amias has always known there was something off about you. Your mannerisms are strange and he constantly feels like you're looking down on him.

When you decide to gamble your life, he's appalled. How dare you? As far as he's concerned, your life is his too. This is too much for him.

He feels his heart melt out of his chest when you lose. Time stops as he falls on his hands and knees in front of you, eyes wide and unfocused. He's not ready to have a dead darling.

But you seem confident. Was this your plan? To get rid of him, you want to die? He can't stand to watch as you make your way confidently to the execution arena.

Did he go too far? Did you really need to do this? He can be better. Please don't leave.

But the blade doesn't make even a dent as it rests against your skin. You laugh mockingly toward the crowd before announcing your immortality with a confident smile.

Amias is shattered. You did this all... just to mess with him? Oh, dear. Such a pretty little bird doesn't need to be making a big fuss. You'll be safer from yourself in his arms.

Edge

Edge always knew. He could see right through you. It just makes you even more interesting, in his eyes. The way you look down on him... He's so untouchable, usually. So for you to treat him like an insect?

It's intoxicating.

Degrade him more! Tell him how useless and disgusting he is! Fuck, you've unlocked something in him. He's never been treated so poorly before, and he's entranced.

He's under your thumb, this time. You seem to be enjoying it too, so what's the harm? There's no way you're ever losing a game, by the way. You've unlocked simp Edge.

Double Down

He has no clue. He doesn't care much about your degrading comments. He's been rejected before, and he'll still go after you no matter how many times you tell him to die.

DD absolutely REFUSES to kill you, even when you gamble your life. You'd have to get him real mad before he even considers it, which is very difficult to do. When Edge tells him he HAS to, he says he's quitting his job then. He doesn't care. He'll walk out with you on his arm (you looking less than amused) whether you like it or not.

So, now he's unemployed and attached at your hip. You're annoyed. This weird mortal is clinging to you like a weird dog with separation anxiety. He looks happy, though.

Jackpot

He's already prepared to worship you, so don't worry about being a god. Nothing will change, he adores you either way.

If you gamble your life and lose, he's broken. Forever. Doesn't matter if you don't actually die, he's shattered. You did it on purpose? Even worse. He's never going to forgive himself.

He's hardly what he used to be. He won't eat or sleep. By this point, Gambit probably hates you. Jackpot's by your side, weakly clinging to your hand whenever he can be. He doesn't show up to work, either.

You've ruined him.

Gambit

Gambit isn't sure how to feel once he finds out. He ends up with the information on accident when Edge tells him, but he doesn't know how to react. He doesn't change much, maybe gets a bit more shy around you.

He loves you regardless, don't get him wrong. He just doesn't feel worthy of being around you.

If you gamble your life and lose, he'll calmly escort you out of the casino to give you a stern lecture on the value of life. You're half asleep by the time he finishes.

He'll keep you tied up if it means he can keep you safe, no matter how immortal you are.

[oddinary4bts]

When the End Comes | jjk (teaser)

☆summary: Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?

☆pairing: photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in every chapter)

☆genre: breakup!au, slice of life!au, angst with a big A, smut

☆warnings: I will be posting individual warnings for each chapter, so watch out for that! In this teaser: reference to Jungkook's accident (car wreck), angst (a recurring warning in this fic let me tell you)

☆word count: 65.8k

☆series masterpost

☆a/n: Gosh this whole piece makes me so so so emotional. I think it's by far the most angsty thing I've ever written, and I hope you all will enjoy it!! I'm sorry for the tears and emotional toll tho :') Thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing this, I'm so thankful for you <3

☆Read The Forgotten Spaces here, the prequel to When the End Comes! It does not need to be read to understand When the End Comes, but I think it still should be read first to have a better understanding of the characters in general!

☆Add yourself to the taglist here (if you were on the taglist for The Forgotten Spaces, you're already on the taglist for When the End comes!)

☆☆☆☆☆

But love never leaves a heart, where it found it, found it You found it Someday, I'll fall into you That's where I'll be now when the end comes

When the End Comes by Andrew Belle

☆☆☆☆☆

“Kook…”

He says your name, a loving plea that could have changed the ending, if the months hadn’t passed.

“We need to talk,” you breathe against his neck.

You think you hear his heart breaking. Like a car wreck: it’s so loud you don’t think you’ll make it out of the crash. Only, he did get out of it once – you can only hope he’ll get out again.

He runs his hand on your back, loses it in your hair. He’s gentle, infinitely so, tracing your body to remember you by when you’re gone. At least that’s what you think it is.

“Yeah?” he lets out with a small, quivering voice.

A tear spills from your eye, falling onto the soft skin of his neck.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

He holds you tighter, turning his face so that he can press a kiss to the side of your head. It’s a desperate move – it holds the weight of the universe.

“I…”

He never finishes the sentence. His words are lost to him, and you steel yourself for the glimpse you’ll give him. And when you do, you see his eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I can’t do the distance anymore,” you tell him.

He nods once. “I’m staying until November.”

He blurs behind your tears, and they roll down your cheeks freely. You don’t try to dry them, and neither does he.

“But then you’ll go again.”

He doesn’t need to say anything to that, because you both know it to be the truth. His reply is physical: his arms let go of you, falling on the bed on each side of him.

You move to sit next to him, instinctively grabbing a blanket to hide yourself. Jungkook shuts his eyes before pressing the heel of his palms against his eyelids. As if that’ll stop him from crying, from shattering into thousands of little shards that will go by the wind.

The end has come. It’s upon you, right this instant in time. You think you’ll forever hate this moment – will you ever recover?

☆☆☆☆☆

Read chapter one here!