#he loves theatrics sm he's so dramatic

[fumifooms]

Collecting Laios’ bragging faces because they are precious

I'm persuaded there are more out there but I can't find them, I'll edit them in if I happen upon them. Update edit: I’ve found and added 1 more thus far!

spoiler ones (chap 85 or smth) under "keep reading" 👇

It’s so funny- the eagle head’s smirk omfg

[ohdeerfully]

hiii! this is my first request on tumblr but i jus love alastor sm and there is NOT enough fics for me out there. so im asking u❤️

what abt alastor being jealous of someone else in the hotel? for example: angel dust, he puts on music and you two are dancing with eachother happily not noticing the red eyed demon with a tight grin. 🥰

Hii! Honestly after writing this I realized I didn't follow the prompt exactly, less jealousy and more Alastor being overprotective. Oh well! Hope you like it anyway :D!

Be Back Soon (i)

alastor x reader (fluff? alastor is just overprotective) part i TW: Cursing/Angel existing if you want tagged in the next part, lmk! join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

Your fingers dragged down the skin around your eyes as you let out a long sight, sitting at Husk’s bar with shoulders propped on the cold counter. What a day it had been, running around in the typical chaos of the hotel as Charlie tried to get some group bonding activities finished. It was getting late, and you just finally had a moment of peace.

“‘Ey, toots!” The chipper voice broke your peace and you couldn’t help it when another audible sigh escaped you. The culprit of the broken science paid no mind.

Turning your head, you narrowed your eyes and made eye contact with the lanky pink spider. You were a little salty at him in particular, being one of the main catalysts to the everyday insanity. He had an easy grin played upon his lips as he stared back down at you with his multicolored eyes, one pair of arms on his hips that jutted out a little too unnaturally in a mischievous pose. His golden tooth glinted under his light grin with a similar air of “hey I’m up to no good right now.”

“You look fuckin’ tired!” He barked a laugh, dramatically squeezing his eyes shut in a theatrical show of laughing in your face. It really wasn’t that funny, and you couldn’t stop the frown that touched your lips as you watched him. He took pride in being the way he was. Annoying.

“No thanks to you, Angel,” You clipped back. You turned your head to watch Husk, who was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. He had become an expert in ignoring the spider demon’s presence, which was how he managed to stay sane with said demon’s constant flirting and sexual nature.

“Anyway,” He waves away your targeted words with a wave of his hands as his eyes roll up. “I was thinkin’ we get outta here for the night? Me and Cherri were gonna have a “girl’s night.”” You briefly thought about the humor in Angel admitting to being ‘one of the girls,’ but pushed the thought away to consider his invitation. “It wouldn’t hurt ta get some fresh air. This place is real stuffy sometimes, and a huge snooze fest,” he persuaded. He rested his face on one pair of hands, fingers laced under his chin, as he leaned against the bartop in anticipation for your answer.

You purse your lips in thought. It wouldn’t hurt, right? You didn’t go out clubbing a lot, and with Angel and Cherri with you surely nothing wrong would happen. They looked out for their friends, and you would (maybe regretfully) consider yourself Angel’s friend. You glanced at Husk for a moment, as if looking for advice, but his eyes remained close and his lips had an annoyed curl. Maybe you should get out of his hair.

“Okay, okay,” You grinned, a little sheepishly. While you couldn’t really consider ‘fresh air’ to be a feature of Hell, you agreed that you needed to just Get Out of this place. Running errands for Charlie got mundane, even with all the strange characters that cycled through the place. One tends to get used to the chaos.

Angel stretched his arms up in a cheer, which earned a one-eyed, aggravated look from Husk. He uttered something under his breath before grabbing a bottle and walking to the other corner.

“Alright, sweet lips,” Angel cooed at you. “Let's get you dressed! You got anything decent up in your closet?”

Your hand found its way to the back of your neck as you answered sheepishly, “Eh, not really… At least, not for a night out. I don’t really do much outside of the Hotel.” Angel frowned at the response, tapping his chin in thought.

“Lemme take a look,” With a swipe of his arm, your hand was suddenly being held as he dragged you up the steps toward the floor of your room.

Walking down at the same time, you briskly passed by Alastor, who had his eyes closed and a hum in his mouth. His blazing red eyes peered open as you and Angel rushed past him, a quizzical furrow in his brow seeing the connection between your hands. You shot him a shy grin and craned your head back to shout a quick ‘I’ll explain in a minute,’ before you disappeared around the bend of the stairs.

You didn’t miss the dark gleam in his eyes.

Angel, in an attempt to dramatically burst through your door, slammed full body into the entrance. “Ah- the hell?” He cried, roughly jiggling the handle.

“I keep it locked,” you snickered at him and the disheveled look in his usually preened hair. You saw him take his hands to brush it out as you fiddled with the lock, an annoyed mutter of words escaping his lips. The second the door clicked, Angel shoved past you and reattempted his dramatic burst through the entrance with a bit more luck this time around.

He went straight for your closer, rummaging through this and that. What a breach of privacy, this guy is, you thought with a strained smile as you stepped up next to him to try to guide him through your very Ordinary and Plain clothes.

You felt a prickling sensation on your skin, and you swear you heard a frequency of low static, but when you whipped your head around nothing stood there. Did that shadow just move?

Shaking your head, you looked at the piece Angel held proudly in his hands, one pair of arms gripping the top and the second pair pulling the bottom out to really get a full inspection.

It was incredibly simple, but still a bit more revealing than anything you were used to wearing. A deep red top, so cropped it may as well be a sporty bra, with a couple eye-catching accents of rhinestones. Connected with thin straps was a similarly tight pair of booty shorts. Your face flushed at the thought of wearing this. It was practically lingerie.

“Isn’t it a bit, uh, tacky?” You tried in an attempt to dissuade him from this getup. He acted offended, one hand going and pressing against his fluffed chest. You didn’t miss the way he took this as an opportunity and pressed up against himself to perk up his mass of chest fur.

“Babe, I wear shit like this all the time! You tellin’ me,” He started a rant, shaking the clothes in a fit of mock rage. “You tellin’ me I’m tacky? Hah! Me! Angel Dust!” He wiped away a fake tear in his laughter.

Your face flushed again looking at the getup. With a defeated mutter you swiped it from his hands and trekked painfully slowly to the restroom. You ignored Angel’s urgency for you to ‘hurry the hell up’ because it was almost time to get going.

You slowly stripped yourself of your day clothes, gingerly stepping through the tight shorts and tucking your arms through the straps of the top. You didn’t even remember buying this thing, it had been stuffed far in the back of your closet. You couldn’t help the feeling of dread thinking about the other embarrassing things Angel might have seen in there. Though, you doubt anything could phase that guy.

You had to admit, looking at your reflection, that it did accentuate your curves, even if you didn’t have much to begin with. The rhinestone accents glittered in the bathroom light, obviously designed in a way to bring attention to the chest. The straps that connect the two pieces fit snugly against your exposed torso. You were suddenly glad Hell never got that cold.

“Almost ready!” You snapped at Angel calling from the other side of the door. You quickly threw on some touches of makeup, trying your best to compliment the shades of your outfit and adding some glittery makeup around your eyes. You quickly dragged your fingers through your hair to style it comfortably.

You ripped open your door just as fists started banging on it. Angel stood there with two arms raised, stopped midair to keep himself from decking you in the head. You glared up at him, trying to maintain your earlier sourness to hide the fact that the outfit had grown on you.

“Hey, sexy lady!” Angel teasingly leaned himself against the doorframe with a smirk. “Let’s fuckin’ go! You took too damn long! Cherri hates waitin’.”

Grabbing your hand again, he ushered you out of the room. As you raced down the stairs, you tried to continuously preen your hair to keep it from flying out of shape as Angel practically drug you down each step.

He slowed at the bottom, releasing your hand, and stepping towards Husk’s bar to aggravate and flirt with the cat one last time before heading out. You tuned out his sexual innuendoes as you tried to glance over yourself one last time.

“My, what a dame you are!” Alastor’s recognizably radio-afflicted voice ripped your attention away from picking at a loose rhinestone. He stood over you, a slight bend in his waist and an unnatural crane in his neck. His smile was there, but tight and uneasily wide as he examined you through squinted eyes. He leaned his weight against his cane.

Swallowing your unease, you examined his expression. You knew Alastor didn’t care for such… promiscuous outfits. Especially on what he considered his. You knew his compliment was satirical, and you didn’t miss that glint of anger flash through his expression.

“Heyy, Al,” You drew out your words, unintentionally accentuating the awkward tone between the two of you. He paid no mind, keeping up that seemingly cheerful grin of his as he just… stared at you. His fingers tapped impatiently on the radio of his cane, each tap bringing a warp to the frequency that always surrounded him. “I’m going out with Angel tonight. Y’know… to get some air…”

“My dear,” His eyes closed in a laugh and he straightened himself out. “Why would you ever go out there for fresh air? Now, you know those demons would just eat you right up.” A dark sneer infected his smile, lips curling and exposing the line of his black gums.

“‘Ey c’mon, Smiles,” Angel stepped up next to you and lazily threw an arm over your shoulder. You saw that sneer only deepen as Alastor watched the spider get way too close to you. “Give ‘er a break! She’s always runnin’ around doin’ shit for this bum-ass hotel! It makes her… boring!” 

You didn’t know whether or not to appreciate Angel both defending and insulting you. You decided to just ignore his comments as you watched Alastor’s expression get darker and more sinister. You felt a cold sweat prickle at your neck as that static-y frequency of his became more prominent and aggressive as his eyes swept over the two of you, lingering on your exposed abdomen with a frustrated twitch in his brow.

“Why, of course!” He suddenly cheered, brandishing his hands to his side in a slight bow. “But…” He stepped towards you, looming over you. You felt that nervous tickle again. His right hand raised and, with a quick motion, a fairly modest jacket materialized around your shoulders. “All better! Wouldn’t want greedy eyes seeing what’s mine!”

How bold, you thought. He was from the ‘30s, though, and very old fashioned. It made sense that immodest wear bothered him. Plus, you looked down at the jacket. It had a similar color scheme, and was light enough to not be too warm. At least it goes with my outfit. How sweet.

You felt a bit giddy at the permission Alastor had given you–not that you needed it. (You did). You’re a grown ass adult. (It doesn’t matter). You shot him a smile of thanks before dashing out the door, meeting Cherri who had been frequently laying on the car horn for you to Hurry the Fuck Up.

Before Angel Dust could follow, a tight grip on one of his wrists stopped him in his tracks. He hissed, yanking his arm but to no avail. Alastor’s grab was like iron, and his nails began to dig into Angel’s skin.

“Hey you fuck, let me go! I gotta get out there before Cherri starts blowin’ this shit up!”

Alastor pulled Angel in closer, a sneer-like grin crossing his expression. There was a maddening look in his glowing red eyes.

“If she comes home with even the smallest scrape,” He said in a low tone, the garble of his radio slightly distorting his voice. “I’m going to make you wish you never came to this Hazbin Hotel.”

Alastor’s grip didn’t yield as Angel tried again in a futile attempt to release himself. He had a nervous laugh in his voice as he tried to act unintimidated by the Radio Demon’s threat.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, you creepy red fuck,” He gruffed back, “Me an’ Cherri will stick right by her. You don’t gotta worry about nothin’.” Alastor’s expression shifted in an instant, his cheerful grin reappearing. He stood up straight and smiled down at Angel. “Good man! Now, don’t be too long,” He shooed Angel out of the lobby, who was more than glad to get the fuck out of there. He heard a faint ‘I’ll be watching’ from behind as he slammed the car door shut, muttering curses under his breath.

He knew Alastor would send that damn shadow of his to keep a close eye, so why the fuck did Angel have to babysit you in the first place? Plus, you weren’t some weak, naive fool. Whatever. He knew Alastor would take any excuse to cause some entertaining mayhem.

He sighed as he looked at you, who had a nervous but excited grin as Cherri rambled and cursed about something.

Maybe he shouldn’t have invited you out. He knew he was in for a long, stressful night. Good thing there would be a bar.

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

I have a request for Astarion ! What if reader is usually the one being seduced by Astarion (because that's how he is) but reader one day does the very chivalrous hand kissing to Astarion after maybe protecting him from an enemy?

Rizz if you will.

It's Called Chivalry, Darling

pairing : astarion x (gn) reader

summary : astarion makes a point to be chivalrous so you return the favour to distract him from being worried.

warnings :talk about weapons and fighting, reader gets hurt.

a/n: thanks sm for your request :). i tried my hardest to execute this idea, i hope you like it anon :0 (i have not played baldurs gate)

“I think we could stock up there. ” You point to a row of buildings, signs practically unreadable, grabbing the attention of the others in your group. They all hum in agreement before heading off in their own directions. The only store you assume you’ll be needing is a general store, so you head in that direction. 

You reach for the handle but someone else's hand beats you to it, pulling it open for you. Turning to look, you make eye contact with the ever handsome Astarion, smirk tugging at his lips. 

“Why’re you opening the door for me? What do you want?” You point an accusatory finger in his face, causing him to chuckle. His laugh is so soft it almost makes you drop your finger. 

“It’s called chivalry, my dear. You aren’t familiar?” He follows behind you as you enter the store, rolling your eyes at him. The store is mostly empty, besides a few men looking through the wares available. But even with all the open space for him to walk, Astarion seems to tail you as if the store is crowded. 

“Ooh get some more of that stuff, remember you used it on me? It made that cut on my arm feel like nothing.” He points from behind you at a healing balm in a small, glass jar. You stop in your tracks to grab it, causing Astarion to push into your back, and you look back at him with a confused stare. 

“Why’d you stop? ” His brows are furrowed, face close to yours.

“Why are you walking so close to me?”

“I just can’t stand to be far from you, my love,” He places his hand on his chest dramatically, voice incredibly theatrical as if he wasn’t already dramatic enough. You're sure that people in the store are shooting glances your way but, unusually, you can't bring yourself to care.

Not when Astarion is looking down at you with playful eyes and a giddy smile on his face. He looks so sweet like this, so free of worry and attitude, his guard is down. But you can't let him realize your thoughts, so before he could even notice your staring you force your face to remain as stoic as before.

You once again roll your eyes then continue your search for anything the group may need. Once you finish you head towards the door, making a point to open the door for yourself which causes Astarion to grunt in disapproval. 

The group finds each other once more and you head out of town, fully prepared for what might be ahead. At least that's what you think, maybe a stupid thought considering you're never truly safe on this perilous journey.

As you travel along the trail, your group seems to split off into its own smaller groups. Whispering and laughing with eachother, making far too much noise in your opinion. And Astarion, slowly trickling from the front all the way to the back where you're walking, finds his place beside you. 

“Why do you always walk so far towards the back? That’s a dangerous position for someone as small as you, no one to keep you safe from behind.” He chuckles to himself as he notices your brows furrow. 

“There’s nobody to annoy me either.” His hand flys to his chest, pretending to be hurt once more, his pace faltering ever so slightly then catching up with you again. 

“Ouch. How you wound me so with your cold words darling.” 

“Astarion, if you wish to accompany me in the back I’d appreciate if..” Your sentence is cut off with a yelp of surprise as you trip over a dip in the road, stumbling forwards. But you don’t fall very far, Astarion’s hand gripping onto your wrist and pulling you towards him. Your chest hits his, and you take a moment to regain your bearings before taking a step away from him.

He raises your hand, still in his grip, up to his lips and places a gentle kiss on the top of your knuckles, “You must be more careful, darling. Don’t want you getting hurt.” 

You know your face is pink, you can feel it, and the smirk on his face solidifies your worry, but you remain composed and give him a simple nod as you pull your hand away. 

“Shall I hold your hand to ensure you don’t trip again?”

“In your dreams, fangs.” He smiles, it's always so soft during these moments, and the sight alone almost causes you to take back your words and give in to his offer, but you stand your ground and keep your hands close to your hips. Astarion lets out a small laugh at this.

You continue to walk in peaceful silence, Astarion making small quips so the air is never truly silent around you. You've come to realize that Astarion can't stand silence whenever he's around you, and he makes a point to keep the noise level up. But when his tone shifts, and he becomes quieter, you take a peak around. You notice that the group is much closer than before but you don’t mind. Safety in numbers and what not. 

But something feels off. It’s eerily quiet. Not even the whistle of a bird and you swear the wind has stopped entirely. And you think the rest of your group notices as well, perhaps the reason that they had moved closer was so they wouldn’t be caught off guard. Their hands stay on their weapons ready to take them out. 

And then it happens. A group of goblins jump from the surrounding forest and circle around your party. Usually something as small a threat as a goblin would be no problem but in such large numbers they might prove to be a problem. When they initiate a fight, thrusting their blades towards you, you draw your blade. 

Slowly, you pick off goblins, one by one. They’re stronger than you expected and their weapons are much nicer than the ones you had encountered in the past. But you keep your guard up and they’re unable to land a blow on you. It’s when the amount of goblins in front of you is reduced that your guard is let down even the slightest. And your focus shifts. Not the smartest move.

You look around you, realizing that Astarion is no longer by your side.

In your state of distraction, a goblin is able to strike you, leaving a relatively large cut on your arms and cutting the arm of your shirt into a tattered piece. The pain causes you to refocus for a moment, just enough to kill the goblin before you look back towards Astarion.

When your eyes reach his position, your heart drops to your stomach. He is completely surrounded and you're certain that he is unaware just how shitty his situation is. So without a second thought, you leave the goblins in front of you behind, and rush over to him. 

Swinging your blade with as much force as you can muster, you kill the goblins behind him and grab his wrist to pull him out of his unfortunate position. You kill another, after ensuring he is no longer in the way. The two of you pick the goblins off together, standing back to back. And when the fight is over you finally allow yourself a moment to breathe. 

But it doesn’t last long. 

Astarion pushes at your shoulder, causing you to stumble forward, you hardly catch yourself but you do. When you’ve found your footing you straighten up, turning to him with furrowed brows, “What was that for?” 

“Why would you do that?” His tone is so aggressive it catches you off guard, “You could’ve gotten hurt! How could you be so irresponsible? Look at your arm, Gods!"

He holds your arm in his hands, hesitating for a moment before ripping off a piece of his own shirt. Gently, he pushes the arm of your shirt up to uncover your wound and begins to wrap the piece of cloth around the wound with shaky fingers, muttering curse words under his breath.

“You could’ve been killed Astarion! I would’ve gladly gotten hurt in order to prevent that.” You try to keep your cool. The pain is hardly noticeable with the amount of adrenaline pumping through your body. And you honestly find yourself more worried about him being angry with you Obviously, he’s yelling in your face, but it might just be shock getting to him. 

“Why would you do that for me? That is absolutely ridiculous.” He huffs, throwing his hands in the air, then allows them to fall back down to his sides. And an idea suddenly enters you brain. 

Slowly, with caution to not annoy him further, you reach for his still shaky hand. He stares at you, brows furrowed, but he doesn’t pull away. Gently, you place your lips against his bloodied knuckles, making an effort not to hurt his already irritated skin.

“It’s called chivalry, Astarion. You aren’t familiar?” You notice the smallest change in his eyes as they soften, even a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He isn’t mad, just worried. And you know that all the annoyance has fled his body at your attempt to make fun of him and his flirtatious remarks. Honestly, he's a little flattered you remember what he said, and flustered from you playing his own game against him.

You take a step closer, placing a hand on the side of his face to pull him in closer, to plant a soft kiss to his cheekbone. His curls touch your fingertips, and you take the opportunity to play with his soft hair for a moment. When you pull away, a pink tint lingers on his skin, allowing color to flow on his beautiful face. “You know I don’t want you getting hurt.”

This time he lets out a soft laugh, “That’s enough, darling. I understand what you’re doing, you can stop mocking me.” He turns away from you, but you rush to his side, wrapping your hands around his arms. You lean into him, resting your head near his shoulder as you look up at him.

“Shall I hold onto you so you don’t trip, my dear?” You mock his usual flirty tone, and he pushes your head away gently in an attempt to hide the color rushing to his face, ruffling your hair up.

“What, I'm not allowed to flirt with you but you can do it to me?”

"That's exactly right, my dear."

[heylosers06]

Based on @pmkn2-0 hc of Damian using a cane because of his spine. I actually love this head cannon sm because you’re telling be that he’s totally fine now? Like I know during those Gotham winters that metal spine freezes up on him. Even if he didn’t have the spine issue when he gets older I know he’d definitely develop physical issues because of the strain that’s been put on his body since he was a baby.

The cane design is SOOO dramatic I know 😭 but I thought it would be funny to give him this theatrical cane design that’s probably so impractical. It definitely gets stuck in everything

[gotta-winwin]

(🎄) ... mirth and good cheer - xmas special teaser

⭐ starring: vernon

🎄preview: vernon used to fly back to new york every christmas for one reason only: his childhood best friend. christmas used to be his and y/n’s thing, until he got seemingly too busy to ever return. now, as y/n departs to korea for the first time, she can’t help but wonder if her and vernon would ever cross paths again. vernon, unbeknownst to her, has been wondering the exact same thing. as the boys set up their christmas tree in their dorm, he does his best to ignore how hints of y/n still seemed to linger throughout the holiday air. 

tw/cw: idol!vernon x nonidol!reader, childhood friends to lovers, estranged friends, slight miscommunication, fluff, slight angst, best christmas romcom vibes, features svt members, stubborn!reader, equallystubborn!vernon, use of y/n, flips between past and present day

🐻‍❄️ release date: christmas day

☁️ masterlist & a/n: dropping a vernon x reader fic for our xmas special! doesn't vernon just scream childhood bestie to lover (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ i just know i'm going to have sm fun writing this cuz the dynamic is so interesting! its already giving christmas romcom vibes and omg you guys are not ready.

11 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024:

“That’s not how it’s supposed to work.” Mingyu slapped Vernon’s hand away from the tree they were decorating. “It’s supposed to be symmetrical, not whatever you’re doing.”

Vernon had to admit he wasn’t really paying attention. Their dorm auntie, the one who came around once a week to clean up the place, had baked them gingerbread men as a Christmas gift, and the smell felt like it had seeped into the walls of their dorm. It was a nostalgic smell, one that took him back to his childhood, new york and-

“Vernon?” Mingyu waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you even listening right now?”

He blinked, brought back from his thoughts. “Sorry, hyung. What?”

Mingyu could only let out a deep sigh, moving to place the bauble where he intended it to be. “You’re like this every Christmas. If you miss her so much, why don’t you just fly back?”

Vernon didn’t really know why he wasn’t flying back. He certainly could be, they were off work for the holidays and a plane ticket back wasn’t hard to find. He would be doing himself a favor, putting himself out of misery and finally seeing his childhood best friend. The thing was, he wasn’t really sure if Y/N wanted to see him. He shrugged. “I don’t miss her.” It was a lie and everyone in the room knew it. 

CHRISTMAS DAY 2003: 

Everyone who knew either of them would say they were smart kids for their age. Both only five, they whispered secrets to each other like little middle schoolers would on the playground. 

“My parents say I’m going to Korea.” Vernon whispered to Y/N as they watched a christmas movie. “Forever.” Vernon always had a dramatic, theatrical side to him, even as a child.

Y/N could only frown. “Forever? Why?” She couldn’t imagine her best friend moving anywhere without her. “Am I going too?” 

Vernon mirrored her frown on his own face. “I don’t know.” Sensing her sadness, he reached over and gave her a hug. “I’ll visit every year.” He promised. 

“Every christmas.” Y/N insisted. She had always loved christmas above all else. “So we can watch movies again.”

Vernon agreed. “Okay. Every christmas. It’ll be like-” He paused, his young mind searching for the word. “Tradition.” He smiled at her, proud of the big word. 

“Promise?” Y/N stared at him with wide eyes, reaching out with her pinky, extended. “Pinky promise me.” 

Vernon grasped her pinky with his, shaking it firmly. He felt like a grown up, making one of those important business deals. “I promise.” Turning back to the screen, he let out a whine when he realized they had missed the best part. “We missed the part where the grinch screams down the mountain.” He complained. “I wanted to watch that part.”

Y/N got up, searching for the remote. “I’ll turn it back.” 

Their dynamic never changed, even as they grew older. Vernon walked through life, Y/N following behind him with eyes filled with admiration, gently nudging the boy whenever he got distracted and began walking off-track. It stayed that way even with the distance, until one Christmas, Y/N woke up and Vernon had not returned. 

CHRISTMAS DAY 2016:

“Mom?” Y/N called as she walked slowly down the stairs. She had returned home from university for the holidays and was confused when Vernon wasn’t at his usual spot to welcome her home. “Where’s Vernon?” He was usually back from Korea by now.

She didn’t like the look of pity her mother was giving her. “He didn’t tell you, honey? He’s been so busy with work, looks like he can’t fly back to join us for christmas this year.”

She felt her heart sink. She had been looking forward to spending time with him, even if it was just a couple of days out of the year. “Oh.” Of course, she understood. His work was important and she was sure the kpop industry couldn’t be easy. “That’s okay. I guess he must’ve been too busy to tell me.” 

--

“What are you still doing here?” Joshua frowned at Vernon, who was lying down on his bed. “Shouldn’t you be in New York by now?” He was used to Vernon flying back to New York every christmas since they had met. 

Vernon let out a huff. “Not going back this year, Josh.” 

“Why not?” His friend pressed, confused. Vernon was usually so excited to go back. “Isn’t your friend going to be sad?”

“I can’t miss any more practice before our comeback. One Christmas should be fine.” Vernon explained, although his voice betrayed his disappointment. He had been looking forward to going back home, to be able to see Y/N again. He thought to himself that one christmas couldn’t hurt, right?

One christmas missed turned into two. Then four. Then the timing felt too long and awkward and Vernon just never got the confidence to ever go back.

10 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024: 

Korea was beautiful underneath a sheet of snow. Y/N had landed last night, having made up her mind to give living in Korea a try. Ever since graduating university and landing a job as a screenwriter, her friends and family had always urged her to try working for the Korean film scene. 

She supposed she had always just avoided the country because of Vernon.

Her new job writing for some K-drama started after New Years. She thought maybe spending Christmas in a new place would bring back the mirth and good cheer the holiday used to give her, but she knew she was here for a different reason. A selfish and pathetic one. It burned her, that a part of her still wished to bump into Vernon after all these years. She knew he was doing well, SEVENTEEN was soaring through new heights and she had kept tabs on his ongoing success. It was the only way she kept going: his large internet presence sometimes made it feel like he never even left at all.

It hurt her the most that he could be doing so well without ever seeing her again.

Rounding the corner to the coffee shop, she rubbed her raw hands to regain heat. Ordering, she was relieved to find out she could still hold a conversation in Korean. It had gone rusty, the only people she ever used Korean with back home was Vernon’s dad and sister. 

“Hello?” Someone from behind her tapped her on the shoulder. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

[rapturously]

Idk exactly what to ask for, but I have an ✨idea✨

Dwayne who seemingly has a penchant for choking his SO. He just loves the little whimpers and moans they make, and the way they squirm.

Really basic, ik 💀. You can take this and run, or simply enjoy this thought with me, but I wanted to share 🥰

moving in stereo.

( dwayne x fem!reader. )

➾ pairing ; dwayne x fem!reader.

format: one-shot — requested.

word count: 5.9K.

warnings: SMUT (mdni), making out, dirty talk, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), bloodplay (he’s a vampire), breast-play, biting, hair-pulling, scratching, breeding kink, scent kink, p in v sex, missionary position, rough sex, begging, unprotected sex, mating press (a little bit), choking, bruising/marking, dwayne is hot

author’s note: i am so obsessed with him, it’s not even funny ngl :’) also, I have a couple of other fics/drabbles that I’ll probably post tonight too, I’m definitely feeling very inspired! If you haven’t voted on my poll, please do so! thank you guys sm for your continued love & support !! ❤️

Beads of blood filled your mouth as you absentmindedly chewed at the skin of your cheek, flesh taut between your back molars — you hadn’t intended to bite down as hard as you did. A singular glance at Dwayne’s hands had contorted into shameless ogling, smitten hues discreetly flickering over the veins and smudges of grayish grease coating his fingers.

He had a way with machinery that transcended you — he often claimed that it was simply natural instinct, but your running theory was something buried in his past life. Dwayne was known for his stoicism and quiet demeanor, neglecting to educate you on his background.

It must’ve been a life of hard work — otherwise, his hands wouldn’t have appeared so rough and calloused. They weren’t smooth and spindly like Marko’s, or pretty like Paul’s. They were taut and thick, dexterous and built for destruction, if he let it.

Hands that had held you many times before, touched you in ways that you longed to feel again. A shudder rolled down your spine as you daydreamed, mind floating into a fantastical haze of lascivious thoughts. If it weren’t for the presence of the other boys, a tendril of drool might’ve leaked from the corner of your mouth.

“It’s fucked, isn’t it?”

Paul’s agitated groan reverberated throughout the cavern as he crouched beside his boombox, slapping a palm against the top of the speaker, as if that would cure all ailments. His brows furrowed together, lip curled in annoyance as he knocked his hand against the machine a second time — for good measure.

“You’ll ruin it if you keep it up.” Dwayne’s monotonous remark echoed from the opposite side of the lobby. He was entrenched in repairing his motorcycle after it had gotten vandalized by a Surf-Nazi who didn’t live to tell the tale. Paul’s beloved stereo was the least of his concerns.

“How are we gonna listen to Alice?” A begrudging sigh escaped Paul, whose theatrics weren’t out of the ordinary. He huffed, falling in a dramatic heap along the edge of the dilapidated fountain. “Can’t you fix it, Dwayne?” He asked, peering toward his brother, who seemed entirely uninterested.

Silence filled the chasm between them, prompting you to stifle a smile. Dwayne didn’t enjoy being bothered whenever he was working on a project — he was always one to see it through until the very end.

David and Marko emerged from their abysmal resting place. Once the sun disappeared behind the ocean and dusk consumed dawn, the boys became wildly active. “Paul,” David’s voice carried, always domineering without even trying. “Let’s go.”

Disappointed in the lack of closure for his treasured boombox, Paul relented, rolling off of the stone bannister with an exaggerated sigh. He ruffled your hair in passing, and smacked Dwayne on the way out, who didn’t flinch or move a muscle. He simply exhaled — you could sense the twinge of irritation in his sigh alone.

Paul snickered, hopping up the ledge alongside David and Marko. “See you later, bud.” He sneered, waving at you as he departed with his brothers. Once the trio slunk away into the moonlight, it left you and Dwayne by yourselves in the cave.

You could’ve watched Dwayne work for hours, captivated by the way he dismantled the machinery, handling the finer pieces with nimble digits. He was wrist-deep in the grease-laden guts of his motorcycle, surrounded by a myriad of scrap and parts. His dark brows were furrowed together in stark concentration.

Intrigued, you abandoned your perch — a rickety, velvet-cushioned chair that had come with the hotel’s ancient wreckage. Paul’s stereo was sitting along the ledge, awaiting a tune-up that you knew Dwayne would inevitably provide. You sat down, inspecting it for any damage — it looked unharmed, on the outside.

“Do you think it was a user error sort of thing?” A burst of laughter escaped you as you opened up the hatch for the cassette tapes, noticing a rather banged-up copy of Alice Cooper’s Constrictor from ‘86. It was a good choice — you had to commend Paul’s taste in music.

Dwayne’s soft, bemused huff was all you needed to hear, prompting you to smile. You never mistook his tranquil, halcyon demeanor as indifference — he was a man of very few words. Even his temper wasn’t violent or tempestuous, like that of Marko or David. His placidity in most things was what drew you to him in the first place.

Being a human amongst a den of rancorous vampires wasn’t your intention, but you were happy — happiest with Dwayne, above all. He was the best boyfriend you’d ever had, not that it was a lengthy list. You idly fiddled with some of the switches on the boombox, removing and reinserting the cassette before closing it up.

Much to your chagrin, the stereo didn’t work — maybe it wasn’t Paul’s imagination after all. You gently nudged it back along the ledge, abandoning it for now. “How come you didn’t go with the others?” You inquired, folding one leg over the other, tapping the heel of your boot against the dusty stone.

There was a slight shift in his body language — a mere shrug of his broad shoulders, accompanied by the noises of metal clanging, gears twisting, and then he grunted. “I’m not looking for dinner.” Dwayne replied, matter-of-factly. He was in the midst of replacing the engine on his bike, placing the damaged part aside, hands stained in dark ichor.

With a soft hum, you pushed yourself off of the ledge, wandering over toward Dwayne’s scrapyard — a rather cluttered corner of the cave that acted as a makeshift garage. You sat along one of the flat outcroppings of rock, opting to watch him fix up his motorcycle. It would intrigue you more than messing with the boombox ever would.

His pearlescent teeth clenched around a wrench, clutched between his maw as he focused on putting the new engine back in. There was a quiet appreciation that he held for you — you were always respectful of his hobbies, if this even counted as one. Dark eyes flickered toward you, sitting there in your billowing sundress like some statuesque angel.

Dwayne appraised you in his usual silence, eyes carefully raking along your physique, as if he were undressing you through gaze alone. His jaw tensed, a fire beginning to spark within his chest, threatening to spread like an encroaching wildfire the longer he ogled you.

Sundresses were a hot commodity — and they never lasted, either. Dwayne made sure of it, and once he got his hands on you, that pretty fabric shielding you from him would cease to exist. He made it up to you with the gift of another, but rest assured, it would be shortlived.

It was a mutual feeling, the silent staring. His keen hues settled along the supple curves hiding just beneath that thin veil of fabric while you were captivated by the visual feast of strong, capable hands and taut forearms. You folded your hands within your lap, beginning to absentmindedly chew at your inner cheek again.

Your scent wafted throughout the short distance between the both of you, heavy with hints of your favorite perfume, a saccharine concoction that Dwayne had grown accustomed to. He loved your smell — it was unique to you, invading his senses as he continued his work.

Those strong, muscled hands of his were buried in the underbelly of the motorcycle, carefully placing the new engine back inside. He began to fasten it all into place, removing the wrench from his mouth, quickly fixing it all up with a series of bolts, screws, and metallic plates.

“I’ll teach you sometime.” Dwayne was, oddly enough, the one to shatter the comfortable silence between the both of you. He prided himself on playing mechanic — his ability to handle such equipment and repair it was rather renowned. Once he was satisfied with the job, he sat back, peering toward you.

Warmth oozed from those earthen-brown hues of his, coupled with a subtle adoration that only he possessed for you. Your smile only served to further it, the only thing to make his dead heart pump to life again.

“I’d like that,” You mused, canting your head to one side. “I think you should fix Paul’s stereo, too.” Even if Dwayne had brushed him off before, he would fix it and have it ready for him whenever he came back. It was the right thing to do, anyway.

Dwayne huffed, lips twitching into a threadbare smile, wrought with traces of amusement. He didn’t say anything — he didn’t need to. He wiped his hands off along the crimson cloth he carried in his back pocket, ridding his hands of engine grease and oil.

He stood, filling in his full height as he bent down to give you a kiss, hand carding through the back of your skull. It never failed to make you shudder, haplessly squeezing your thighs together as you reached for his forearm. Powerful, taut muscle flexed underneath your fingertips, and his kiss briefly intensified before he withdrew.

That familiar aching sensation flickered to life between your legs, a dull arousal pooling within your stomach. You wanted nothing more than to cling to him, beg for another kiss, but Dwayne was already over to the stereo, inspecting it for any damage it might’ve had.

For Dwayne, your mind was exceptionally loud — he could read your thoughts, hear them screaming from afar, which he happened to smile at from where he stood. The feeling was mutual, but he wanted to make you stew in it for a little while — it heightened the experience.

As he dismantled the stereo, you decided to go elsewhere — to Paul’s nest, which wasn’t the brightest idea, but he had an impressive collection of cassette tapes. You began climbing toward the rocky slope that led off into alcoves, using some of the ropes hanging about to pull yourself up.

“Where are you going?” Dwayne asked, seemingly finding the source of the boombox’s disarray — there were pieces of tape stuck in the machine.

“To see what Paul has to listen to,” You mused, nose wrinkling in amusement. “It’s the least that he can do for you since you fixed it. We should go listen to music.” Truthfully, Dwayne owned that stupid stereo just as much as Paul did — joint custody, you’d called it.

Hawkish, dark hues drank you in from afar, and Dwayne decided that he’d indulge himself in your wishes, picking up the boombox by the bottom. The handle had been broken off long ago — courtesy of Paul, once again. He simply trailed behind you, briefly pressing his hand against the small of your back when you made it up the incline, keeping you steady.

Paul’s nest was notoriously cluttered — in a very fascinating and macabre manner. It was littered in trinkets, things he’d taken from people he fed from, bones and all, or general thievary. The boys were all like this, but not to Paul’s level.

Posters of hair-bands and metal groups hung all around the rock, illuminated by flickering candlelight. It smelled faintly of marijuana, decorated by a patchwork array of tapestries, clothes, and stolen jackets. The guitar he’d lifted off of a traveling rock group sat on his bed — he always talked about starting a band.

A mountain of cassette tapes lay in a semi-organized heap, many of them taken from Videomax or anywhere he could find them. Dwayne simply stood at the fringes of Paul’s nest, watching as you picked through his extensive collection. You smiled at the handful you’d grabbed, rejoining Dwayne as the two of you made for his nest.

In an amusing juxtaposition, Dwayne’s nest was noticeably simplistic — yet, his personality was scrawled all over it. He liked to read, keeping a trunk of books, tools he’d taken from garages, and some trinkets stashed away in a large piece of a drawer.

He hadn’t bothered to invest in a bed for several decades — not until he got entangled with you. When Marko had mentioned it to you in-passing, it was rather intriguing, but you never asked Dwayne about it.

With the stereo now placed at the foot of his makeshift bed, placed atop a rather rickety wooden trunk, you ejected Alice Cooper from the hatch and put in The Cars, instead. Dwayne happened to regard this choice with curiosity, sitting along the edge of the mattress.

Moving in Stereo began to drift through the alcove, and you promptly fell back against the plush surface, tucking your hands atop your chest. “This song reminds me of you.” You murmured, gazing at the cavernous ceiling, focused on the jagged edges and outcroppings of rock.

Dwayne seemed curious, twisting slightly to face you. Even when sitting, he towered over you, indomitable and immovable, a wall of sheer strength and muscle. “Why does it remind you of me?” He wanted to hear your answer, eyes flickering toward your exposed stomach.

You smiled, somewhat embarrassed, but you decided to answer him anyway. “I don’t know,” You began, rolling over onto your side, propping yourself up with one hand. “Just a bit of a mystery, but alluring. It’s pretty magnetizing.” With a soft exhale, you began to pick at a stray string on one of the blankets that covered the mattress.

“Magnetizing,” Dwayne echoed, withholding the urge to smirk. Instead, he joined you, laying on his side as he mirrored your position, face mere centimeters away from yours. “You got a way with words, girl.” His chest shook with a brief huff before he leaned in to kiss you.

If a kiss could have destroyed you, this was it — Dwayne’s mouth consumed you, intensified by your seemingly innocuous words. He tasted good, like spiced smoke and the faint bite of copper.

You were eternally grateful to The Cars — Dwayne was careening into you, broad chest flush against yours, veined hand grasping at the base of your skull. Thick digits massaged at the nape of your neck, coaxing you close until there was no space left between you, lips voraciously tangling with yours.

He ripped all wisps of air from your lungs, as cold as ice as he shrugged off his jacket. Arousal reactivated inside of you, no longer dormant as your warm hands reached for his chest, feeling broad muscle underneath your palms. He felt like a god — chiseled, forever perfect — you were sometimes in-awe of his beauty.

In awe — Dwayne smirked against your mouth, unable to help himself when it came to your overactive imagination and racing thoughts. He pushed his hand underneath your shirt, fingers tracing along your curves as he began to feel a familiar tightening in his jeans.

Your scent thoroughly intoxicated him — your natural musk, the cling of perfume, the arousal coalescing between your thighs — it was a perfect amalgamation. Dwayne exhaled, sitting up and taking you with him, hands hooking into the hem of your shirt as he peeled it off of you.

His lips were on your flesh again, hands tearing your thin brassiere apart with ease, reveling in your warmth. Dwayne pressed a string of kisses along your neck, feeling the thrum of your pulse point pound against his mouth. The shorts you wore still clung to your frame, but they wouldn’t be for much longer.

“Dwayne,” You sighed, The Cars becoming nothing more than atmospheric background noise. Liquid heat pooled between your legs, a shiver rolling down your spine as he laid you down against the mattress, covering you with his body. Your eyes locked together as he stared down at you, gaze boring right through you. “I need you.”

Dwayne kissed your neck, sucking enough to create a hickey before he traveled to the base of your throat, peppering kisses across your collarbone. “Where do you need me, sweet girl?” His husky, warm baritone made you shiver in delight. Those eyes raked over you in rapture, full of reverence.

“Everywhere,” You whimpered, goosebumps coalescing along your spine. Dwayne’s huff of laughter made you smile, and you quickly urged him closer for another kiss. His mouth crashed against yours, passionate and blistering, full of an unrestrained want. “I’m yours.” A sweet moan tore past your lips.

A wave of possessiveness swelled up inside of him, coupled with that innate desire to keep you all to himself. Dwayne didn’t have an issue sharing with his brothers, but you? No — you belonged to him, and him alone. A growl rippled across his broad chest as he tore his lips away, returning to your sternum.

There was a prowess to him that the others didn’t possess — Dwayne was emotionally intelligent, just as vicious in the same breath. He was an enigma of so many things, drawing you in with his arcadian charm. Your fingers reached for his dark tresses, perusing through as he kissed your chest.

“You’re beautiful,” Dwayne’s affectionate baritone rumbled across your flesh as he continued his slow, deliberate string of kisses, making his way to your breasts. He trapped one nipple between his lips, gently suckling on the sensitive mound, the other hand tugging at your shorts. “Perfect.” He uttered.

You sighed, fingers tangling within his mane of black tresses, pulling and carding through. It felt silky between your digits, like velvet. Those veined, calloused hands gripped along the meat of your hips, strong and unwavering as he lifted you to discard your shorts.

Arousal pooled between your legs, honey-thick as it toyed with Dwayne’s senses. He wanted nothing more than to drown himself between your thighs, devour you until you were a trembling, mewling mess. Your thoughts shamelessly echoed that sentiment, prompting him to reach toward the apex of your thighs, hand breaking past the waistline of your panties.

Dexterous fingers languidly slipped along your slick cunt, making a line right for your clit. Your body responded in a near-violent fashion, hips jolting up into him, hands curling within his hair. “D—Dwayne!” You whimpered, chasing after the friction his hand provided. Those dark hues hadn’t left you, transfixed on your smitten countenance as he kissed your stomach.

He looked big when his body was spread over yours, but when he began to slink toward your thighs, he was hulking, a massive wall of muscle. Dwayne’s kisses continued, littered all across your pelvis and thighs, fingers still winding you up as he pushed in between your legs with those broad, bronze shoulders.

His visage was rugged with a fine layer of dark stubble, tangible as it scratched against your inner thighs. He curled his hands into your panties, and instead of removing them, Dwayne simply tore them asunder, leaving remnants of fabric behind. The alcove reverberated with the sounds of material being ripped apart.

A thin sheen of arousal painted your cunt, scent stinging his nose in the most pleasant way possible. The velveteen flesh of your inner thighs were layered in faint bite marks — his own, from the past. He looked to you for approval, thumb lazily circling around your clit.

“Please.” You huffed, head bobbing up and down in an idle nod as he moved his lips toward a patch of flesh, unmarred by any bites. Dwayne was always very sensual, and even when he fed from you, it felt so lascivious. Your body jolted, hips writhing closer as he began to bite down.

Dark, earthy-brown hues melted away into pools of a golden-red, unnaturally vibrant. The initial sting of his bite made you wince, but he was always gentle with you when it came to feeding. As sharp teeth drew blood, a low growl reverberated throughout his chest, causing you to shiver. Your fingers continued to trace through his mane of black hair, a myriad of moans escaping you.

Restraining himself from taking this further, he had his fill, kissing over your now-healing bite. Dwayne licked his lips, effortlessly tossing both of your legs over his broad shoulders as he tugged you closer. You were somewhat folded at the hips, but you didn’t care.

Dwayne’s gaze was incendiary, intense — he stared you down from his perch between your thighs. You were visibly flustered, staring right back, nearly shrinking away altogether. He kissed your thighs, mouth dangerously close to your aching cunt. “You ready, girl?” He asked, inhaling another gust of your scent.

You nodded, feeling every fiber of your being scream with desire, and you wanted him terribly. “Yes,” You whimpered, hands having splayed out at your sides instead, no longer buried within his hair. “Dwayne, please,” His deliberation made it worse. “I want you so bad.” Your hips wriggled again, desperate for his mouth.

A warm, hearty chuckle emerged from his lips, making his herculean form shake between your legs. “Just relax,” He soothed, noticing how coiled and poised you were. Those strong, veined hands wrapped around your thighs, keeping you spread apart. The flat of his tongue lapped across your slit in one long stroke. “Relax, Mama.” His voice made your head swim.

Relaxation wasn’t exactly your forte — you were too wound-up, too drunk with desire to simply sit still and melt into the mattress. Dwayne’s tongue began to lap you up, greedily consuming every drop of your sweet arousal, working along your cunt. His fingers clamped hard, enough to leave behind the inklings of bruises, etched into your flesh like his personal brand.

Your thighs threatened to squeeze at his head, but he kept your legs firmly planted on his shoulders, pinning you down and rendering you immobile. Your taste saturated his tongue, and he only chased after it, dutifully lapping at your slit as his nose absentmindedly grazed against your clit.

Dwayne was relatively silent — and you didn’t mind in the slightest. The only ambiance happened to be The Cars, your delighted moans, and your boyfriend’s deep, rumbling grunts. His tongue worked wonders on your aching slit, cunt clenching pathetically around nothing as he lapped you up, gaze flickering towards you.

Your countenance was a vision of beauty, all contorted into an expression of complete and utter bliss. Your hips writhed, with very little room to go considering that Dwayne had you locked down, arms bracketed on your thighs, keeping you caged in against him.

A heavy fire burned bright within the pit of your stomach, demanding to be extinguished. Throaty, noisy moans escaped you in droves, vocalizing your delight as Dwayne vigorously lapped at your cunt. He alternated patterns, between soft and exploratory and recklessly needy. His mouth occasionally brushed over your clit, causing you to shiver.

Each time he ate you out, it was almost like the first time all over again — blissful, filled with a lust-infused passion that threatened to swallow you whole. Dwayne was beyond attentive, savoring you as if you were the most delicious meal he’d ever had.

He lowered himself toward the mattress, musculature flat and poised between your thighs. Those strong, thick arms kept you held in-place, keeping you locked in as he continued to lap at your core. His hips rocked forward, harshly grinding against the bed to relieve some of the friction.

Much to your surprise, Dwayne got off on pleasuring you above all else. There was something intimately carnal about it, knowing that you only made those sounds for him, only let him touch you. Your hips jolted forward, met with a barrage of an eager tongue and mouth as he lapped at your cunt.

Dwayne grunted, lips opting to purse around your clit, instead. Your reaction was visceral, moans ascending to an excitable crescendo as your hands flew toward his hair. He grunted again, attempting to vocalize his own satisfaction of you pulling and tugging on his dark tresses as if they were reins.

A burnished-gold coloration had swallowed brown irises whole, flickering down towards your blissed-out visage. Your body had a mind of its own, twitching and writhing as his mouth relentlessly assaulted your aching cunt. Pleasure licked acros your frame, burning along your sensitive nerves. He was vigorous and attentive, throat itching with a dull, familiar ache.

Hunger could wait — Dwayne merely placed that feeling into the recesses of his mind. His tongue continued to cascade across your slit, lapping at your arousal before he returned his attention to your clit, suckling on that bundle of nerves. He steered you towards your orgasm, mind swimming with a thick haze of lust, overwhelmed by your heady scent.

“Dwayne!” Your voice carried above the nest, echoing throughout your cavernous surroundings. Fortunately, you were alone — you had little desire to mask how you felt about him. Needy digits gripped at his tresses again, hips bucking into his mouth until you were simply a pile of mush, unable to respond.

You were lost to the white-hot heat of your release, an explosive sensation that caused you to quiver and spasm in delight. A glittering perspiration danced across your hot flesh, sparkling from the glow of the candlelight. “Dwayne,” You huffed, a whimper emerging from the back of your throat as he dutifully cleaned you up.

He released your hips from his ironclad hold, crawling along your body until his broad frame nestled between your thighs. That taut, muscled hand rest against the base of your throat, digits gingerly squeezing on either side of your windpipe. You initiate a rather tantalizing kiss, able to taste yourself upon his tongue.

A clattering sound resonates in your vicinity, Dwayne wrestling his belt off of his hips as his jeans sag upon his frame. He’s swift, wrangling his pants aside with one hand, the other clutching onto your pretty throat like a vice, evoking a string of sinful noises from your mouth. You kiss him with a desperation that he matches tenfold.

His hips brush against yours, and the distance is nonexistent, closed by your stoic paramour, whose normally-cold gaze reflects with a semblance of warmth. Your hands clamor for his broad shoulders, sinking into the expanse of bronze skin, nails clamping down when he drags the head of his cock against your cunt.

“Speak up, sweet girl.” Dwayne grunts, lips ghosting above the shell of your ear. He thoroughly enjoyed your begging on occasion, with this happening to be one of those occurrences. His lips briefly press against the side of your face, stubble grazing across your silken complexion.

With an agonizing pace, he continued to toy with you, pushing his cock against your entrance, but declining to go any further. A pained whine escaped you as you tilted yourself closer. The hand around your throat squeezes, effectively commanding your attention.

“Please,” You sputter, squirming in delight whenever those veined digits tense around the slender expanse of your jugular. “Dwayne, please,” Your simpering pleas are met with a hiss as he sluggishly sinks into you, inch by inch. He lets out another shallow rumble when your fingers brazenly dig into his shoulder. “Please move!”

Cold-blooded and dangerous — but not to you, not now. The icy temperature of his flesh swallows the warmth wafting from you as he invades your space, musculature eclipsing any light. His shadow falls across you, visage awash with his own carnal delight. You’re tight around him, aided by your arousal.

Another satisfactory snarl rips forth from his mouth, echoing next to your ear. You wrap your legs around his broad hips, gasping when he began to move. His cock hit new depths, pulling halfway out before Dwayne pushed himself back in again. His pace was rhythmic and passionate — not sloppy or too rough.

The pad of his thumb draws circles along the curve of your jawline, the rest of his hand tight around your windpipe. You moan, legs locked like a vice as he continues to roll his hips forward, cock battering its way into your cunt with a domineering force. Dwayne was taking it easy on you — if he lost control, it wouldn’t be very pretty for either of you.

His lips find yours, kissing you fervently as you reciprocate in a flurry of passion. Heat bled from you, arousal seeping from your core as Dwayne continued to rut into you, one hand splayed beside your head. The sparkling sheen of his ring glints in the lower light, mouth relentlessly assaulting yours in a barrage of kisses.

Dwayne grunts into your mouth, but the entanglement is shortlived as he moves to cover parts of your neck in kisses — whatever parts aren’t covered by his hand. You feel the sudden scrape of razor-sharp fangs drifting over your flesh, testing your resolve. You shudder, eyes fluttering shut as you grip and pull on his hair.

Sometimes you simply forgot that he was a specter of the night, a fanged creature who had the capability to rip you apart at any moment. His fangs continue to hover across your neck before they retracted, lips replacing them as he kissed your pulse point. There was an added element of thrill and exhilaration as you whimpered, his name spilling from your mouth over and over again.

You nearly see stars when he pistons himself into you again, slow and savoring you, enjoying the sluggishness of it all as Dwayne continues to drag out his thrusts. Your cunt clenches pathetically around his length, prompting you to whimper and moan, goosebumps coalescing along your spine.

“More,” It was incoherent, a string of needy babbles that escaped you in droves. “Dwayne, please,” You whimpered, chewing at your lower lip. In the midst of his own pleasure, Dwayne’s calculating stare flickered toward you — it wasn’t a good idea. “Please, please fuck me.” You begged, hearing the growl that echoed deep from within his chest.

“You sure?” Dwayne didn’t want to hurt you, but he was inclined to obey your needy command. Another grunt escaped him as he steadily rutted away into your tight cunt, deliberating in the midst of it all. “Won’t be gentle.” His stark warning was concrete, you knew this — you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into.

Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, you nodded several times over, digits gently curling around his wrist. “Yeah.” You panted, chest fluttering with a tight sensation as he gave you a hasty, passionate kiss, a parting gift as he squeezed at your jugular. That steady rhythm began to pick up instantaneously.

Dwayne made sure to watch you closely, gaze hawkishly trained upon your body as he began to fuck you. The intensity and the heat rose like a tidal wave, consuming the both of you as he pounded away at your poor cunt. Your legs rattled like leaves, attempting to stay locked around his waist.

The taut muscles of his shoulders and abdomen worked in-tandem, body effortlessly exerting strength. For him, it was nothing — for you, it was a different experience entirely. He was rough, manhandling you with one hand as he grabbed at your hips, enough to leave behind faint impressions in the form of bruises.

Moving in Stereo still swallowed any background noise, encompassing the whole of Dwayne’s nest. You were a complete and utter mess, devolving into a puddle of sweet moans and needy whimpers, especially whenever he applied pressure around your throat. He squeezed whenever he thrust into you, force akin to that of a barely-restrained battering ram.

Even in his self-proclaimed roughness, Dwayne was still executing some measure of restraint. “Mine,” His thunderous voice swarmed you from all sides as he fucked you into submission, gritting pearlescent teeth together as he approached his climax. You kept nodding, back arching into his touch.

“Dwayne,” Dwayne — it feels like the only word you’re capable of saying, rolling from your tongue with a wanton moan. You tug on his tresses with an urgency, feeling his hips grind against yours, flesh kissing flesh with unyielding thrusts. His cock continues to bury itself deep inside of your needy slit until it can go no further. “S—Shit! Right there!” You cry.

He huffs, musculature flat against you, chest to chest as you coax him in for another kiss. You whimper into his mouth when his tongue tangles with yours like a heat-seeking missile, teeth breaking the thin skin of your lower lip. Pearls of crimson trickle onto his tongue, fusing lust with hunger — all for you.

Dwayne didn’t stop, showing no signs of stopping as he fucked the both of you through an orgasm, painting your cunt in hot ropes of seed. He doesn’t pull out, a sensation that the two of you feed off of. If it weren’t for his vampirism, you’d be round with his children — the fantasy would continue to linger on for as long as he pleased.

“Shit, Mama,” Dwayne’s strained baritone sends shivers throughout your body. He rarely talks during sex, and this felt like a treat as he continued to thrust into you, feeling your nails dig angry crescents into his shoulder. He groans, savoring the feeling of your constant tugging on his mane of dark tresses. “You’re perfect.” His voice tapered off into a possessive growl.

You want to scream, a raging fire surging throughout your body before it finally comes to an end, extinguished by Dwayne’s rough rutting. He could’ve kept it up, continued all night long with his cock stuffed inside of you, but humanity was both a blessing and a curse. Your thighs shook underneath his grasp, and he began to slow, pressing kisses along your collarbone.

His hand left behind a searing brand around your throat — whether or not the imprints are visible, it’s the sensation that refuses to leave. Your windpipe feels a little sore, but it’s a pleasant burn as he comes to a crawl, nestling his forehead against yours.

The excitement and blissful thrill of the moment steadily begins to fade, composure replacing a very heavy lust. Your heart thrums beneath your breast, beginning to crawl to a more uniform beat as you nudge forward, kissing Dwayne again. Your lips are swollen, split down the middle with a patch of dried cruor.

Dwayne’s exhale of relaxation comes after, and the tension within his body unfurls. He kept himself inside of you still, feeling your poor cunt clench around his cock when he adjusted his position. His kiss is astoundingly tender this time around, able to taste the pang of copper upon your lip, accompanied by your natural sweetness.

A sense of euphoria overwhelms you, body feeling wonderfully heavy as Dwayne peppered kisses all along your jaw and collarbone. “You alright?” He murmured, making sure that he hadn’t pushed the limit with you. It was easy to become lost in the moment, forget about your humanity.

You nodded, wincing slightly when he pulled out of you, resting his head against your stomach, arms encircling themselves around you. “Better than alright,” You mused, tracing your fingers throughout his hair. “You think Paul will mind that we borrowed his stereo?” Laughter burst forth from your mouth.

A bemused huff escaped Dwayne as he reached over with one muscled arm, hitting the ‘NEXT’ track on the boombox. He pulled you close, nose wrinkling in disdain as Drive by The Cars came on — it wasn’t exactly his taste in music.

“Like you said,” He rumbled, peering up at you with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. His arms effortlessly tugged you down to his level, lips twitching into a faint smirk, rare for Dwayne yet mesmerizing all the same. His mouth brushed above yours. “Joint custody.”

[sethsclearwater]

hey i have a request!

so in sm fics the reader is always cuddled in between the boys and i love it its so cute but i cant help but imagine how unbearably hot it would be being in between both of them so could i request a silly fluffy blurb of the reader cuddling with paul and seth and she’s sweating because its so hot so she tries to get away from them and they are so offended and she’s giggling and they like playfully attack her and force her to lay with them

so cutie lol!

...

"fuck me," you whined, quickly sitting up when you realized just how hot you were getting from laying inbetween not one, but two boys who ran temperatures of a steady 108 degrees on a good day. today though, it felt like they were literally furnaces and you absolutely despised feeling hot and sticky.

you reached over seth to grab your hydroflask, taking multiple rather large gulps of water before deciding you had cooled off enough, "you're so dramatic, you know that?" paul asked, still sprawled out on the bed with your other imprinter on the other side of you, both looking rather disgruntled by the fact that you'd sat up while they were trying to cuddle with you.

you took one final sip before turning to glare at paul, "i literally feel like i'm in a sauna. it's way too hot down there," you admitted, shuddering at the thought of having to be that hot again the second you laid back down in between the two boys.

seth cracked a smile at your dramatic shudder, taking your hydroflask from you so he could set it back down on the table next to the bed while you and paul continued your theatrical bickering.

"you weren't whining about that last night when i was-" paul began but you were quick to cut him off with a loud gasp, playfully smacking his sweatpant clad thigh to show your disapproval of the lewd comment you guessed was about to come out of his mouth.

"paul lahote!" you laughed, "that was different and you know it!" you exclaimed, all three of you laughing at your miserable attempt to defend yourself against paul's (very sexual but albeit true) allegations.

paul rolled his eyes, a casual smirk on his face and one arm bent to rest a hand behind his head as he watched the way your cheeks turned a bright pink over your embarrassment, "seth tell him-" you attempted to get your other boyfriend to jump in to aid in your defense before paul could make another comment about you ogling his shirtless body.

seth just let out a breathy laugh, "pretty girl," the pet name rolled off his tongue so easily and you couldn't seem to contain the way your stomach erupted into butterflies over it, both seth and paul knowing all too well just how flustered they could easily make you, "why don't you lay back down and i'll turn the fan on, yea?" he suggested and paul didn't seem to take too kindly to seth's gentle tone, instead just grabbing you by your hips and manhandling you back down into the bed.

you were laughing, playfully pushing paul's hands off your hips which had him just wrapping his beefy arms around you to hold you tight against his chest. before the two of you could get too into it, you felt some much needed reprieve as the cool air from the fan hit your skin, "better?" seth asked as he got back into bed with you and paul, rolling over so he could spoon you and press a gentle kiss to your neck.

you hummed and nodded, peeking over your shoulder to smile at him, "much better," you reassured, pecking his lips before turning back to paul to do the same for him.

[swarvey]

🎉🎉🎈🎊🎈🎊🎉🎊🎈🎊 CONGRATULATIONS!!!

Maybe a ask of your favorite characters celebrating? Like you finished the community center and had the big party but your bookie bear wants to celebrate with you at home?

Ya know keep the celebration going for everyone

get a room! | harvey x f!reader

summary -> you finally finish the community center and celebrate with everyone in town. harvey would rather take things back home. warnings -> none! wc -> 787

a/n: i actually love this prompt sm, thank you anon!!! ik you didn't specifically request nsfw but i'm lowkey inspired so y'all lmk if you want a part two with what harvey would do hehe

-

"y/n! i can't believe it, you actually did it!"

emily tackles you with a hug, squeezing you tightly before looking at you with a proud gleam in her eyes. leah stands behind her with a warm smile on her face, while haley takes off her earbuds and begins looking around the finished community center. it took you countless seasons and, quite literally, your own blood, sweat, and tears to do it, but you've finally completed all the bundles in the building.

everyone in pelican town has joined you in celebration at the restored building. penny walks with jas and vincent, pointing to the different bundles and explaining the work you put behind them; alex stands in front of the fireplace and poses while haley begrudgingly takes a photo of him; sam and abigail excitedly make their way from room to room, sebastian trailing behind them and admiring the refurbished spaces.

"i have to say, i am quite impressed, my friend!" elliott declares broadly, walking up to you with a grin. "this explains all the running around i always see you doing, correct?"

"that's right," you reply, laughing as your friend gives you a round of applause. "please, at least this means that stupid joja mart will finally shut down."

"it also means i am currently unemployed, prick," another voice grumbles. you smile sheepishly at shane as he joins the two of you, arms crossed and an amused look in his eye. "thanks for that."

"now is not the time to drag her down," emily scolds. "look at all the wonderful energy surrounding this place!"

"oh, enough with that energy bullshit. it looks nice, i'll give her that."

"nice?" elliott repeats, suddenly looking personally offended. "why, i believe that's the understatement of the past hundred centuries."

as he continues on with his theatrics with leah pulling on his sleeve to stop, you can't help but listen with a warm feeling in your chest. despite everyone's differences, they were all willing to come here to celebrate your success. you realize how attached you've become to the town and its people, grateful to have the luck of living in such a place.

you startle slightly when you feel elliott's arm tightly wrap around your shoulders, drawing you to his side.

"she is the pride of pelican town, shane," elliott continues dramatically, shaking your body for emphasis. "the work she has done for all of us will be recognized years from now!"

shane laughs — wholeheartedly laughs — and you immediately grin back. it's not every day you get to see the grumpy guy crack a smile. "it looks like the 'pride of our town' might be dying of embarrassment in your arm, pretty boy."

"i have to agree." a hand gently grabs yours, tugging you out of elliott's grasp. "i hope i'm not interrupting."

harvey smiles at you, his gaze filled with love and pride. out of everyone, he definitely understands the efforts you put in the most — especially after long nights spent in the mines, or early morning visits to the clinic after you exhausted yourself a little too much.

"you never cease to amaze me, my dear," he expresses warmly, and suddenly, the rest of the room seems to fade away. "you're incredible."

you rub the back of your neck, shaking your head. "lewis is the one who told me what to do, and those little junimos helped out a bunch—"

"now is not the time to be humble." he squeezes your hand. "you're one of a kind. i can only hope this means you won't be going to the mines as often." harvey frowns then, a look of protectiveness taking over him. "i typically prefer not having to bandage you up, you know."

you laugh, but before you can respond, a gruff voice sounds from beside the two of you.

"and i usually prefer not having to see you guys eye-fuck each other in front of the entire damn population," shane groans, leaving to look at another section of the center. "get a room!"

you and harvey look at each other with raised brows, and you notice the others slowly inching away.

"if i have to admit," he starts, slightly pulling you closer to him, "i would prefer having you all to myself, as selfish as it sounds." you can see a blush creeping up his neck at his statement, looking at the floor in embarrassment.

"what's stopping you, then?"

his eyes meet yours, reaffirming your words, and you nod.

then, you suddenly find yourself all but sprinting out the community center doors. your laugh fills the air as harvey drags you along with him, face beet red as he leads you back to the farm.

[smoshyourheadin]

Teeth

pairing: jj maybank x f!reader

a/n: this is based off a @starfxkr prompt and i loved it sm i had to write for it so go show their og post some love!! requests are open <3

you found yourself lost in the chaotic charm of the outer banks, where adventure danced on the edge of every wave. amidst the sun kissed shores and salty air, jj maybank stood as a pillar of untamed energy, drawing you into his orbit with every smirk and wild shenanigan.

your heart fluttered with each glance exchanged, your admiration for him growing with each passing day. but among the starry eyed gazes and overwhelmed sighs, there was a playful dynamic that defined your hang outs: cuteness aggression.

one sunny afternoon, as you and jj lounged by the beach, basking in the warmth of the carolina sun, a mischievous impulse overtook you. with a giggle bubbling in your chest, you leaned in and playfully nipped at jj's bicep, unable to resist the urge to tease.

to your surprise, his reaction was swift and unexpected. with a playful growl, he retaliated, sinking his teeth into your shoulder with equal fervor. you squealed in surprise, a mixture of shock and delight coursing through your veins as jj's laughter filled the air.

but he wasn't finished yet. with a mischievous gleam in his eyes, he seized the opportunity to turn the tables. his fingers found your sides, tickling and teasing until you were squirming with laughter, begging for mercy amidst fits of giggles.

as the banter escalated, jj's annoyance melted away, replaced by an ache in his ribs from laughing so much. with a dramatic yank, he pulled you into a tight hug, squeezing you close as he whispered in your ear, "not so fun now, huh?"

but despite his playful theatrics, the warmth of jj's embrace spoke volumes. in that moment, amidst the laughter and lighthearted play fight, you realized that there was something special between you and jj, a bond that surpassed the boundaries of mere friendship.

and so, in the golden glow of the outer banks sunset, amidst the laughter and playful antics, you found yourself falling deeper in love with jj maybank, one bite and squeeze at a time.

[starfleetshrimps]

i love star trek bc it's actually a high school theater production most of the time. We focus a lot on the over-acting, theatricality of the actors and the directors, and that's all well and amazing, but /I/ want to focus on the /TECH/ bc ASHAijnjsdnbhgaARREghghhuuagjkshdmhbAHJBSSHJHIEJBnkjsdjhbsdhjBmahbsjshsbHkjnswkjshsn yea.

FIRST THE SETS?!? they're so silly and stupid? i know they get a lot of shit but the amount of work (not to mention styrofoam) that went into building individual sets for each planet they went to? like sure about 50% of the away missions take place in the california desert (the arena, *cough cough*, etc) but the rest of them have individually made sets that look PRETTY GOOD MAN. they get the point across, they're FUN, and innovative, and they really don't reuse planet sets all that often as well.

PLUS they used traditionally /theatrical/ cycloramas with painted backgrounds and classical cyc lighting (reminiscent of mariano fortuny's domed cyc! i WILL talk more about lighting) which look really cool and once again get shit for being unrealistic.

it's not supposed to look realistic it's supposed to look cool as shit. and it does. shut up. <3

if you view the sets as being modern TV sets then yeah, they're weird, and they look sorta bad, but THEYRE NOT modern TV sets: they're THEATRICAL SETS FROM THE 60-70S. AND I LOVE THEM.

SECONDLY, THE

lighting

while it's true that some shows in the 60s were developing new lighting styles specifically for TV, remember that in the year 1950 less that 10 percent of US homes had a television. this shit was new. COLOR tv was ESPECIALLY new. nobody knew how to light these things! and actually why would you need a new lighting style, we already KNEW how to light dramatic productions, why would we ever need to reinvent the wheel Stanley Mccandles, Mariano Fortuny, and Gene Rosenthall already invented says Gene Roddenberry and Jerry Finnerman (the head lighting designer). and oh my god i am so ridiculously glad. because the lighting. is so good.

i HAVE seen others talking about how good it is in the super early episodes (Charlie X and the conscious of the King, etc.) and i do agree! but i disagree that the quality goes down. i think it just got a tad bit more subtle as the show went on and it gets less in your face, harder to notice. but i noticed. because I'M the WORST (and also a lighting tech)

the impossibility of listing every example of amazing theater lighting choice they made is absolutely horrific and nasty so i'll just lost some my my favorites:

the cyc! i mentioned before but the cyc they used on away missions was only painted when they needed a specific scene in the background, otherwise? that bitch was LIT. and i LOVE IT.

any of the scenes where they light spock's face have green and half pink? or even just washing the walls behind him? i eat that shit UP. the METAPHOR. the CONFLICT. i will acquiesce that green and pink are (and were) pretty goddamn industry standard gels (color-films) to add to lights, for subtle contrast, but this is not subtle. it is LOUD. was it purposefully done from a storytelling perspective? no idea. is it cool as shit and interpret-able as hell? absolutely. also sometimes they do it with just green when they want to emphasize his vulcan-ness and other him a bit. like they do it a lot when he's in his room in amok time. anyway.

whenever they shutter a light so they can emphasize a character's (kirk, we're talking abt kirk here. and *sometimes* spock, and also Charlie in Charlie X but yeah mostly kirk) eyes when they say something #Deep, or just pre-commercial break closure worthy line. it's so SHJSDJBFEJNKN. to add onto this, they'll do a striking half-wash over half of their face sometimes in conjunction and it looks So Good

The GOBOS. sometimes, they'll just throw light through a gobo, or wall screen, or something, for /visual interest/ and it looks so silly i love it sm. does it make sense from a realism pov? nO. but star trek is a theater production actually and they lit everything using mainly naturalistic techniques! amazing!

honorable mentions: the glowing time donut, and the entirely random colors in the hallway.

there are so many other examples but this post is long enough lmao. notice the lights next time you watch tos!!,! please!!! <3

[rierice8]

Hey bestieee

So I think you should write Soukoku just for me bc u love me sm!!! I’ll leave all the details up to u but it must be SMUTTY AF foreplay to the max, and the rest can be whatever your pretty little heart desires

Merci ❤️anon

(Ps did I mention to make it extra smutty)

I THINK I DID YOU DIRTY BESTIE- I PUT A LOOOOT OF PLOT 😭😭

I’m not that good at writing smutty smut and I don’t wanna let down my bestie 😔

But I DO think I did you dirty…

I started writing this on the plane back home…in late August…SO IT'S BEEN A WHILE

Sorry if it feels a little plot heavy or rushed around the end, I…was not very inspired at all…usually an x reader blog but I made an exception for YOU 🫵 anyways let's say this is in celebration that skk isn’t soukover and they’re still alive!

What did you say?

Dom chuuya x sub dazai

Word count: 1876

Warnings: PLOT (scary scary oh no), drinking, drunk sex, name calling (good boy, slut, etc), size kink

Ever since the port mafia and the detective agency called a temporary truce to fight against Fyodor, to Chuuyas misfortune, Dazai has been showing up more and more often. To the point where sometimes Chuuyas afraid to open his room door in the morning since Dazai could easily be standing right there. Dazai has been purposefully trying to provoke Chuuya as much as possible, simply for the sake of being annoying. Leading us up to this evening, where Chuuya gets a knock on his door at a ridiculously late hour.

“What the fuck…who is it?!” Chuuya yelled from the living room as he stood slowly to go answer the door. The person on the other side just kept knocking too, not even stopping after Chuuya had got up to go to the door.

“Ok! Jesus fucking christ, I’m coming!” Chuuya said clearly annoyed as he groggily walked to the door and unlocked it. He didn’t even have to open the door by a centimetre before the door was flung open by who ither than Dazai.

“Chuuuuuya~ I brought wineee!!” Dazai giggled as he closed Chuuya’s door with his foot. Chuuya gave his unexpected visitor a look of sheer disgust.

“And who the fuck said you could come in?? Who invited you? Its fucking 2 in the morning?!” Chuuya yelled, but not loud enough to go through the walls, as he still had respect for his neighbours. Dazai sighed and placed his free hand on his forehead in a theatrically overdramatic way.

“But Chuuuuuyaaaaa!! I went out to buy the most expensive wine I could get just so we could get wasted together and now you're shunning me?!?! I’m going to throw myself off the roof!” Dazai cried. Chuuya all of a sudden was rather interested. Wine?

“Ooh…what kind did you get? Let me see the bottle.” Chuuya snatched the bottle from Dazai’s hand and grimaced.

“Expensive wine my ass, this might as well be from the fucking dollar store. Did you thrift this wine? Cuz I swear this shit is the cheapest thing on the shelf, fucker.” Chuuya put the bottle down on the kitched counter and got two glasses, and his own bottle of wine. Meanwhile Dazai walked to Chuuya’s living room and saw the tv was paused on a cheesy romance movie.

“Chuuya, what kinda garbage do you watch? I know I spent dirt on that wine but your brain must be dirt to think a movie like this is worth watching,” Dazai teased as he turned the tv off and waited for Chuuya to bring the wine and glasses. As Chuuya walked to the living room he scoffed.

“What do you know about romance, dipshit?” Chuuya said as he opened the bottle and poured the glasses. Dazai laughed.

“Surely I know more about romance than you do. At least I’ve had relationships before,” Chuuya scoffed and rolled his eyes at Dazai.

“Oh yeah, “relationships”. All of your relationships lasted a week or less and were toxic as fuck since I bet you’re not even interested in women,” Chuuya smirked as he took a sip of his wine. Dazai reached to grab his glass too, taking a sip and sighing.

“Aw drat! Caught me red handed again Chuuyaaa,” Dazai said sarcastically as he threw his head back dramatically.

“I guess all I’ve ever wanted was some short ginger man to fuck me dumb~” Dazai teased. Chuuya only sighed in response.

“Yeah? Just say that again when I’m a little more drunk and see where it gets you, whore.” Chuuya took another sip of his wine, while watching Dazais face turn from coy to flustered in seconds.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, now drink up you fucker. By the way this is my own wine, not the dog shit you bought, so every drop you drink is coming out of your pocket,” Chuuya said as he refilled his own glass and went to sit down next to Dazai on the couch. Chuuya grabbed the tv remote and stuck on the movie he was watching before. Dazai laughed and immediately started mocking it

“Oh~~ Alejandro!! Mi amour!! You cannot leave me, wah~~ for look, my legs…they opened automatically!!!” Dazai laughed hysterically as he danced around the room. Chuuya held back a laugh, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Bro just watch the movie. The wine is clearly already fucking with you, whatever happened to “I have a high alcohol tolareance” Dazai?” Chuuya laughed. Dazai looked almost offended as he sat down again and watched the movie.

Both of them were slowly sipping their wine glasses, unknowingly going through at least three each. Dazai lets his head slip onto Chuuyas shoulder…Chuuya runs his hand up Dazais thigh…Dazai whispers filth into Chuuya’s drunken ears...Chuuya lifts Dazai’s face by the chin and stares at him, eyes half lidded.

“What was that you said about wanting to get fucked dumb by me again?”

Dazai’s eyes shot wide open before he settled into a smug look.

“I don’t know~ did I ever even say anything?”

Chuuya scoffed as he lent in so closely to Dazai that they were basically kissing.

“Oh…well thats sad,”

Chuuya smirked as he completely pulled away, leaving Dazai sitting there stupidly with his eyes closed, as if he was waiting for Chuuya to kiss him. His eyes snapped open as Chuuya moved away completely

“Woah woah woah wait!! I was just jokinggg, I said something earlier, what, did you want me to repeat myself? I gladly will!!” Dazai chirped, basically begging.

Chuuya just nodded, waiting to see if Dazai really meant it or if he was just joking.

Dazai then lent in close to Chuuya’s ear, pressing himself against chuuya in the process and he whispered.

“I want you to to fuck me, Chuuya.”

Maybe it was pent up desire, or maybe it was just the wine, or whe way Dazai seemingly begged but either way their lips were pressed together. Dazai parting his lips slightly to leave passage for Chuuyas tongue, yet without breaking the kiss, he also stated moving to straddle Chuuya. Once Dazai found his place on Chuuya’s lap he only took a second long breather before going back to kiss the ginger. Bandaged hands running up under Chuuya’s shirt, almost achning to get the thing off. Slowly breaking the heated kiss, Chuuya moved to gently kissing along Dazais jaw before pulling away fully to look at him. Dazai’s eyes were halflidded and clouded with lust…or maybe just alcohol. Dazai steadied himself with a hand against Chuuya’s chest as Chuuya slowly unbuttoned Dazai’s shirt.

“For fucks sake just take it off already!” Dazai sighed, while Chuuya just smirked.

“You we’re the one begging for me to do with you as I want, now you’re gonna be a good boy and be patient, ok?” Dazai just gulped and nodded. Finally Dazai’s shirt was fully unbuttoned and thrown to the floor, where Chuuya then hurriedly takes his own shirt off. He peppered kisses down Dazai’s chest and started gently biting and sucking on the milky skin. Dazai’s already gasping, and tangling his hands in chuuyas hair.

“Shit...Chuuya” Dazai said as he let his head tip back. Chuuya smiled against his skin as he left little hickeys behind, all the way up to his neck, making sure they can’t be covered. He trailed his hands down Dazais chest before reaching the hem of his pants. Dazai’s breath hitched.

“You good?” Chuuya asked, making sure before moving any further. Dazai just nodded.

Bliss. That's what Dazai could describe it as, maybe if he could think. Chuuyas digits roughly fucking in and out of his ass, his head thrown back in pleasure as Chuuya kept leaving little marks all over his neck, pulling his bandages loose so that he has more access. As Chuuya fingered Dazai loose, he started playing with Dazai’s tip too, who only let out pornographic moans in response.

“Shit Chuuya- Ngh!”

Chuuya kissed him, swallowing all his moans in the heated moment.

“You’re such a slut. Letting me use you like this. You even asked for it, and now you're whining and doing absolutely nothing…what if I put you to work,” Chuuya whispered to Dazai as he stopped all his actions. Dazai whined in response

“N-no why, what? Don’t stop, come onn,”

He grumbled, Chuuya just took off his boxers and beckoned Dazai

“Ride me. Bitch.”

And without hesitation, Dazai climbed on top of Chuuya and lined up his hole with Chuuyas cock, slowly sinking down on it with an ecstatic expression, moans spilling out of the both of them.

“Shit…so deep…”

Dazai said breathlessly as he finally sat down fully. Within seconds Dazai started moving, up and down rhythmically. A small bump forming on his stomach. Chuuya just watches as it gets smaller and bigger again, moving his hand to push down on it before leaning in to Dazai’s neck, leaving kisses trailing up to his ear

“You feel that? Thats how fucking deep my cock is in you.”

Dazai moaned at Chuuya’s words. After bouncing for a while though he started slowing down, whining at the loss of sensation

“Chuuya, I can't…I’m tired…please..”

Chuuya thrust his hips up into Dazai, gipping into his hair and pulling on it.

“Please? Please what? What do you want, slut?”

“Fuck- shit Chuuya! Ngh- I just want you to fuck me already! Please-”

Chuuya then flipped Dazai over on the couch, so he was positioned on top. He then started pounding into Dazai, no remorse. As if it had been his one and only desire for years.

“Ngh- shit! Fuck I’m-”

Dazai was trying to grip the couch fabric as he failed to speak from all the sudden pleasure.

“Shit I’m gonna fucking fill you up,”

Chuuya panted out, slamming in and out of Dazai as he just writhes and moans. Dazai’s hands going to lift his legs up so Chuuya could hit deeper.

“Please do, oh fuck- Shit I’m gonna cum- mnfg!”

Chuuya bit his lip as Dazai clenched around his dick.

“Shit, me too…”

Chuuya moved so he was more so laying flush against Dazai, wanting to feel their skin touching as he uses it as leverage to also thrust harder into Dazai. Chuuya reaches down to stroke Dazai’s dick as he keeps pounding him at the same time.

“Ngh shit!! Fuck fuck I’m, Ah! I’m gonna- Mngh!”

Chuuya bit into Dazai’s collar as he only stroked him faster.

“That’s it, cum for me, good boy.”

And like on cue Dazai came just seconds later, clenching down tight around Chuuya, which only made him get closer to that edge. After a couple of thrusts Chuuya came inside Dazai. Basically collapsing on top of him moments after. Both panting and tired.

“I…never thought you were gonna take my joke seriously…very happy you did though,”

Dazai laughed breathily, Chuuya only laughing a bit in return.

“Any day…any time…I’d be more than willing to take your jokes seriously,”

Dazai’s eyes widened a bit

“Did you know I loved you, Chuuya?”

He said. Chuuya smiled and kissed him sweetly.

“Of course I did, dipshit. I’ve loved you for seven years now. That's seven years too many.”

Chuuya said with a smile, Dazai nodded.

“Yeah…seven years too many indeed…”

[sig-nifier]

twenty questions for writers

thanks sm @swifty-fox for the tag!! i love things like this.

tagging @magneticghouls and @onyxsboxes and literally anyone who fancies it

how many works do you have on ao3?

33!

what's your total ao3 word count?

155,902

what fandoms do you write for?

whatever tf the current fixation is. i've written for rooster teeth, our flag means death, buzzfeed unsolved, masters of the air, the eternals, and challengers! currently got a slow horses fic in the works :))

top five fics by kudos

i like the way your words taste - a fluffy druig/makkari oneshot with 860

wild things - a western gale cleven/john egan au with 849

the art of consumption - a smutty art/patrick fic with 780

make you feel alive - another gale cleven/john egan oneshot with 633

hitchhikers - a serial killer ryan begara/shane madej au with 485 (the first multichapter fic i wrote that got me an audience it was wild)

do you respond to comments?

ofc! i try and respond to every single one with at least a thank you

what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

a fic called stay with me, which ended in MCD.

what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i end most of my fics happily!

i think the happiest is probably wild things. everything works out for the better in that one

do you get hate on fics?

i dont! very grateful that everyones always so nice, makes me feel like the are you winning son meme

do you write smut?

i used to never write smut but something this year just had me writing so much of it and whilst it feels mostly awkward to write, people seem to like it!

craziest crossover?

i've never written any kind of crossover, and i don't like to read them either. i guess MOTA in the western genre is the closest i'll come.

have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that i know of!

have you ever had a fic translated?

nope!

have you ever co-written a fic before?

also nope!

all time favorite ship?

ive been in fandoms since i was like 12, there's no way i can pick an all time favourite. it literally just depends on what im into at the time.

i really like inej/kaz from six of crows. i think scully/mulder is great. hannibal/will. ellie/dina. willem/jude.

off the top of my head i would say i'm most fond of the tenth doctor/rose. that one gets me.

what's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i'm really starting to doubt my ability to finish seven miles out of freedom town. im gonna try my best but the hyperfixation has moved on and it feels more like a chore than something im enjoying rn. im really sorry to anyone that disappoints, it disappoints me too, cos wild things was genuinely some of the most fun i've ever had writing fic and interacting with a community. i'll try and get it finished, it might just take me a while.

what are your writing strengths?

i think im pretty good at dialogue, making it sound like something a real person would say.

i think im fairly decent at dramatic writing, at making things sound flowery and poetic and theatric. thats my favourite way to write.

dont think im too bad at characterisation most of the time.

what are your writing weaknesses?

i suck at worldbuilding. i think its boring and i dont care for it, i just want to write about the characters. planning bores me. i just write things and go back and fix inconsistencies later.

wild things is the most effort i've ever put into a world. i was googling locations like a mofo to make things accurate.

thoughts on dialogue in another language?

i think its great! one of my favourite fics has a character that speaks french and he uses it to tease other characters who don't know what he's saying. its done so beautifully.

first fandom you wrote in?

if we're talking actual first fandom it was probably one direction or creepy pasta when i was like 13.

the first fandom i ever wrote for seriously was buzzfeed unsolved in 2018.

favorite fic you've written?

im very proud of washed clean, an angsty oneshot about gale/john. i really like the writing in that one.

i dont think i can pick a favourite, i have like three. hitchhikers and the axeman of new orleans were my starting points and really showed me the joy of writing fic that other people were going to read. i had a lot of fun writing those and i love me some dark themes.

wild things consumed my every thought for like, the 11 days i was writing it. ive never been so obsessed with one of my own fics before, it still blows me away how well it was recieved and i met some great people through it so im eternally grateful for that.

yeehaw, y'all.

[vianthegryphonart]

It’s been a lot of fun following @sm-baby's Carnival!AU, there are so many little details and seeing everyone trying to figure out the hints regarding the lore has been really interesting. I hummed and hawed for a long time, going over Grif’s traits and the things he likes, trying to figure out what his role in the Carnival would be. It wasn’t until it was revealed that Caine liked musicals that it hit me, Grif enjoys singing, a karaoke theme would be perfect for him, and it means he can geek out with Caine and Gangle about musicals!

More information about Carnival!Grif under the cut.

-He is still a plush gryphon, but he’s a lot bigger than he used to be. His wings are also larger and have more “feathers”. 

While Grif is still grey, the fabric he’s made from is slightly iridescent, giving him a more silver appearance in certain lights.

The minky of his wings has glittery silver thread woven through it, when light catches them he seems to sparkle.

The green of his eyes is also now metallic. 

Grif’s collar is a little white band with a metallic green bow tie sewn onto it.

When standing on all fours, he is taller than Carnival!Pomni, but shorter than Carnival!Ragatha. When rearing on his hind legs, he's almost as tall as Carnival!Zooble.

-Grif’s level is based around karaoke. Not only do you have to sing the correct lyrics at the right time, but you also have to try and match the correct pitch too. 

There would be multiple levels to his game, with the song choices changing to be more difficult to sing as you progress through the levels.   

Grif has a wide range of music available for a player to pick from, but you better be careful with what you pick, choose a song that is out of your singing range, and you are doomed to failure. 

You can earn bonus points by performing while you sing, provided it doesn’t negatively affect how you sound. Grif loves theatrics and people being dramatic with their performances.

I don’t know if it would be feasible to have a multiplayer option for duets and such, I think the Carnival game is supposed to be single player, right? But I want it to be an option because Caine and Pomni singing a duet together would be cute.

-Though Grif is strict with how songs are sung during his game, outside of it Grif loves it when people experiment with music, remixes, acapellas, parody songs, he loves them all. He especially loves it when someone doesn’t try and force themselves to sing a song in a range they don’t have, and instead sings it in a way that actually works for them.

-Relationship with other cast members: 

Likes Gangle and Caine (absolutely helps with the music for Gangle’s plays, and will happily perform in any musicals she puts on. And Caine is a theatre nerd, I imagine he’d be pretty good at Grif’s game). 

Dislikes Jax (I imagine Jax finds ways to be disruptive when Grif is singing, which Grif hates). 

Neutral with everyone else (unless any of the others also enjoy singing and are good at it, in which case they’d be in the like category).

-I think that Kinger's nickname for Grif would be Cricket, because both crickets and Grif sing!

[turtledude]

Rise tmnt with a flamboyant !male! reader

(Ex:flashy personality and feminine clothing)

Warnings: None! (NON-SEGGUAL STRICTLY FLUFFY)

Raph

He’s your biggest supporter no matter what so when it comes to the way you dress and act he’s your biggest hype man

Personality wise he finds it fun how dramatic you are

Even though he doesn’t need clothes he finds them cool

He actually wants to try dresses cause he thinks they look cool but none of Aprils stuff fits him. So you may or may not have gotten a few things so you guys could dress up together

Speaking of dresses, if you dress more feminine he honestly doesn’t see why anyone would be against it

He doesn’t see anything wrong with it but finds it commendable that you wear stuff that others would look down on you for

He gets really bushy if you wear anything red

If your an extroverted type he’ll get really embarrassed if you try to show him off, but please do, he likes it

Also if anyone in his reach try’s to mess with you because of it he’s gonna pound em

Leo

Twins

He honestly just screams hype man tbh

He’s also very verbal about how much he likes your fits so be careful

He kinda wants you to dress him up tbh

Scratch that you WILL dress him up, you have no choice.

Def the type to try and buy matching fits for you guys but they probably look really bad 💀(if you wear them anyway it’ll make him really happy)

Would def show you off like “lookhowcoolandamzazingmyboyfriendishahahesmineandnotyoursloser”

Casually roasts people who insult you

Honestly genuinely finds it a really endearing part of you and feels butterflies whenever he’s sees how good you look

Wont shut up if you wear blue.

Donnie

Honestly no one expected that you two would be together but in a way it was also very expected

Like Donnie does act stand offish at times but he’s a loud theatre kid at heart and we know he’s flashy

Tries to not notice it but he thinks you look amazing

Will choke if you wear purple

He’s not the best at compliments but if he gets into his theatrical mood he’ll say something stupid and poetic about you. Away from his brothers of course

He does show you off to people but most likely not infront of you

His brothers are tired cause he won’t stop talking about you

If you have a cool like cyber punk style or something with a lot of accessories he will probably steal them and modify them with tech. No you don’t have a choice but it’s okay cause it always turns out super cool

Mikey

Omg he loves you sm

He finds your style really fun and likes to do like random fashion shows in his room with you

If you wear orange he probably will just treat it like any other outfit (meaning telling you how absolutely awesome you look) but if you tell him you wore it cause it reminds you of him, he will cry and hug you

He’s not a big show off but he’ll talk about you a lot

He also really likes your personality and it goes pretty well with him

He’s quite bubbly and you suit eachother

Doctor delicate touch mode is on immediately when someone is rude too you

The whole concept of “boys can’t wear feminine clothing” never made sense too him. I think him and Donnie have def tried on some of aprils clothing for fun

[lovesatoru]

ABSOLUTE MENACE

featuring: SATORU GOJO

content: gn!reader, fluff, you and gojo are absolute menaces to society, reader is a teacher at jujutsu tech

word count: 612

a/n: i wrote this all based on this ask! i just love this fucking concept sm!! my mind went directly to this scene, so i just threw the reader in there hehe! it’s 2:00am but i’m posting this because i have no self-restraint.

You turn your head to the white-haired sorcerer sitting at your side as he always does. His legs are spread rather obnoxiously far apart with one arm lazily thrown around you and the other stretched out along the back of the seat. It was like he was trying to take up as much space as humanly possible.

Across from him, Nanami sits intently reading a newspaper, probably in an attempt to get Gojo to stop talking to him. The keywords being an attempt because the lack of response fails to stop the man from rambling on and on. You think he’s been at it for at least ten minutes or so, trying desperately to get Nanami to engage in his nonsense.

“Nanami!” Gojo throws his head back as he dramatically whines, dragging out the last syllable of his name. “Come on, would you say something interesting?”

You can’t help but giggle as Nanami remains unbothered, turning the page of his newspaper as if he didn’t hear a word. While you may be the more responsible one, always getting stuff done and, for the most part, keeping to yourself, you can’t help but feed into your boyfriend's antics. You turn to face Gojo, a devilish grin upon your face as you decide to encourage his antics even more.

“Honey, I think you just need to give Nanami some ideas on what you guys could do together,” you eagerly tell him.

“You’re so right!” His voice is much louder as he amps up his usual theatrics. He perks up and unwraps his arm around you before excitedly turning to look at you. “Okay! I’ve got it! Yeah!”

You cast a quick glance at Nanami before turning your body to face Gojo. “What is it? Tell me!”

“We’ll have you record us playing catch with a stale rice ball!” He throws his hands up, fingers pointed towards the sky

You quickly nod along, loving where this was heading. “Yes! And you guys could play while discussing economic policies!”

“You took the words right out of my mouth!” Your words only gave him more motivation to continue being an absolute menace. “Then we’ll post the video and go trolling!”

“Babe, you’re a genius! That’s the best idea you’ve ever had, there’s no way Nanami can turn that down!” You clasp your hands together enthusiastically while you praise him.

Another flip of the newspaper pages. “You two can enjoy that on your own.”

“Gojo, maybe he wants to play a game,” your voice barely above a whisper as you lean towards him.

He claps his hands together rather loudly. “Of course, who doesn’t love games! A drinking game then! (Y/N), help me out here, what kind of drinking game?”

You hold your chin in your hand, pondering for a brief second before answering. “One about you! Who doesn’t love you, the strongest sorcerer out there!”

“Name all the things you like about Satoru Gojo! See who names the most!” He claps his hands together again. “My turn. Everything!”

You throw your hand up in the air like a child who is way too excited to answer a question, “I’m next, I’m next!”

Again, Nanami refuses to give him the reaction he wants, eyes still laser-focused on his precious newspaper. “You just keep on thinking that way.

“Yes, your turn!”

“Your brilliant ideas!” you exclaim. “and your shoes, they’re pretty cool.”

You continued rattling on random things about Gojo before Nanami starts to speak up. “(Y/N), why do you feed into this stupidity? You know, I really thought you would maybe straighten him up a bit, not encourage him,” he mutters.

“You’re so mean!”

[lunagojo]

Hey can I please request aizawa shouta with a female Gundham Tanaka s/o

Imagine the class reacting to there teather dating someone so opposed of him.(Them sleeping in a blanket of cats )

Like they take over his job because he is sick and them being there dramatic self

https://youtu.be/4KPY0PUjad8

Imagine wat happen in the video was the grape basterd 👌

a/n: you got it darling! I hope you like! (first time writing for Aizawa sooooo hopefully it's fine ;u;) also I love Aizawa sm, he's a good dad teacher <3 Also pls bear in mind that I'm only on season 3 of BNHA so I don't know how his character arc goes fully ;3;

Aizawa Shota w/ a S/O That's Like Gundham

You two met through being teachers at UA

Tbh he didn't think all that much of you, he'd just give you a slight nod when you passed each other in the hallways

He admired your Quirk, though (being able to communicate with and command animals of any kind)

Though he did notice that you were rather quiet and liked to spend a lot of time alone, even though the other teachers offered to sit with you during meals and meetings

The students really liked you, though, something else that Shota noticed, so there must have been something about you

The nods soon turned into simple greetings, then to small talk, then to actual conversations

You two actually got along really well, though he didn't always understand your manner of speech

"Eraser of Quirks, is it not the most marvelous climate for my beasts to prance in?"

"Huh?" It took him a second to realize what you were getting at. "Oh, yeah. It is nice outside."

Shota never thought he'd fall for anyone, really. Much less you, of all people

But he did ;w;

Honestly, as dramatic and theatrical as you were, he was able to see your true self through all of that...and how lonely you actually were

He saw a lot of himself in that, and he knew how much it hurt

So hey, might as well be lonely together, right? ;P

You both take a lot of naps together, cuddled up on the couch in the teachers' lounge

Since you know Shota loves cats, you tend to summon a few of them whenever he's feeling a bit down or upset, which does earn you a rare smile from him

I don't think he's very heavy on PDA, since he strikes me as a sort of private person, but when you two are alone cuddles are a necessity (you're both very touch starved)

As much as he didn't want it to happen, the students found out about your relationship

You two ended up overseeing a couple of the classes together, and you took over for him when he was needing one of his many naps (honestly Shota is so relatable)

Once again, the students love you (even Bakugou does too but he'd never admit it out loud)

If they're being too loud or rambunctious you bring in a grizzly bear to spook them into silence (even though they know you'd never actually let any of them get hurt)

Tenya acts as a translator for you most of the time, since a good chunk of the class can't understand a word you say, since you speak so elaborately

Whenever Mineta is harassing any of the girls, you immediately put a halt to it by dropping a cobra onto his desk (he's traumatized by it)

Since his teaching is a huge part of his life and his students mean a lot to him, Shota's heart swells when he sees you interacting with them and teaching them well

It makes him smile a bit when he watches you teach and be yourself so openly. It's what he loves so much about you <3