#i am writhing on the floor as i’m typing this

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

sudden urge to write for hq begone….. sudden urge to write for hq BEGONE…………

[melanated-writersblock]

⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹ The College Basketball Star!Chenle x Black!Cheerleader!Reader Chronicles ⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹

A/N: CHENLE STANS COME GET Y’ALL’S JUICE! Me and my besties are seeing the Dreamies tomorrow so I figured I’d hammer this one out real quick (I finished this @ like 4 am on Tuesday so this was queued to post on Dream()Scape Eve🤣) It’s not much but it’s honest work. I’ve been wanting a tutor trope fic for a while so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone and just have the reader as Chenle’s tutor on some scholar type shit. And I’ve never written smut where the reader is more dominant SO BE NICE TO ME!!! Per usual, WwaBRiM but everybody [18+ AND UP *MDNI*] can read!

Content: Semi-public sex, sub!Chenle, dom!reader, dirty-talk, unprotected sex, reader is a grinderrr (o-o-o-o-o-ohhh), creampie, idk just filth?

The greatest thing to happen to you at university outside of joining cheer team, was getting that little corner office spot for tutors to use that just so happened to be in the back of your campus’ big ass library. Sure there were other tutors on campus, but they always met at coffee shops on or off site and in their dorm rooms. So the corner office became your domain with a key and everything for you to come and go as you please, no matter the hours.

And once Chenle found out, that became a problem.

10:45 PM on a Thursday night and you’re trying your hardest to be discreet about the actions taking place and the man writhing beneath you. “Ughh Fuck, if you keep bouncing on my dick like that I’m gonna cum”. Taking Chenle’s warning, you brace your hands on his shoulders, slowing your pace as you straddle the struggling athlete sitting with his back against the cold wall. “Oh my god yes, yes, that’s so good keep doi- Ahhh!” You can’t help but giggle at the needy state of your boyfriend and his shameless moans as you clench around him with each raise of your hips. “Wow my pussy’s just taking all of you today, huh?” You figured you’d never get him in another comatose submissive state like this again so you have to take advantage of your power trip. “Yes, baby yes you take me so fucking well oh my gooodddd~” he admits between gritted teeth, his head lolling to the side, “Aww, what’s wrong baby?” you lean into the man, your mouth right next to his ear.

Letting his actions speak for him, Chenle grabs your ass as if to forcibly fuck you onto him. You tsk at him, stalling your movements completely and staring him down in a playfully reprimanding manner. “Nooo? Come on love, you do this to me all the time remember?” Chenle drops his hands from your ass in defeat, looking almost like he wanted to cry. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking needy?” “Mnnn~” You start to grind, paaaainfully slow, hiking your already wrinkled skirt impossibly higher up your waist. “Come on baby, just tell me what you want me to do.” His eyes glaze over as he meets your gaze, longingly and full of yearning. Almost as if praying that being on the verge of tears was enough for you. As much as you liked when Chenle surrendered himself to your mercy, you knew that he was still hard to break and those glassy eyes were the most you’d possibly ever get. And honestly? You’ll take it.

Still in a kneeled straddling position, you plant one of your feet on the ground to have some leverage, the other leg remaining kneeled. Chenle’s breath becomes shaky with anticipation, and you smile at him sinisterly. “What do you want me to do, Chenle. Hm?” You finally sink back down onto his length, swiveling around until he bottomed out beneath you. He couldn’t help but moan at the sensation as you begin to pick up the pace. “Is this what you wanted?” “Ohhhh~” “Ohhh does my pussy feel that good to you?” You couldn’t help but mock him a little, “Yes it feels soo good~ughhh~” You begin to bounce on him full force, the lewd sounds of your skin colliding filling your office “Oh fuckkk yeah you like when I ride you like this?” “Uh huh!” “You like when I fuck you on the floor in my office? Huh?” “Yessss Yes I do! Fuck! I can’t-” You don’t let up, snaking a hand into his hair to tug at it, making him look you in the eyes right before putting him out of his misery. “I can’t I’m gonna c-” “Aww you’re gonna cum for me?” “Yesss oh my god I’m gonna fucking cum~” You lean into his ear again, “Then do it. Cum. Cum for me right fucking now. Cum inside of me right now. Cum for me, come for me, c-” Chenle begins to cry out and you moan as you feel him release in you, covering his mouth as you continue to ride him, tears streaming down his face. Muffled curses escape his mouth as you bounce on him, pushing him to a point of sensitivity, your juices mixed with his cum trickling down the length of his cock and pooling at the base, messing up both of your inner thighs. You finally slow to a stop, removing your hand from his mouth. Chenle lets out a labored sigh of relief and you can’t help but giggle at him. “Thank you, I really needed that,” “I know, that’s why I did it….you’re welcome”. You fix yourself to start getting up, but Chenle grabs your hips holding you in place on him. “Just stay like this for a sec.” “Why do you always have to-” “Shhhh” moments later, he pulls out of you as cum slowly leaks out of your cunt. You smile, shaking your head at him as you both clean each other and help the other get redressed. “Okay so be honest with me,” “Alright?” “Why exactly did you start coming to the tutoring office all of a sudden?” you wait for a valid response as Chenle starts fidgeting with things on your desk, “The coach said I need to bring up my grade in my Statistics course.” He doesn’t. He got a 96% and 100% on his most recent statistics quiz and exam respectively. “Oh you fucking liar!”

[symbiotic-slime]

Hi!!!! I am a bit clueless about how tumblr works but I saw your reblog about your malev venom au and I would absolutely love to hear more about it. I did post the original but unfortunately it is not on my main blog and I don’t know how to submit an ask on a side blog (did I mention I have no idea what I’m doing?)

no worries!! tumblr’s kinda weird, I don’t think you can submit an ask from a side blog for some reason BUT ANYWAYS I am so thrilled to yap about it!!

so basically my idea kinda focuses on how similar Arthur and Eddie’s careers are. Arthur’s a PI and Eddie’s an investigative journalist, so if they could just end up in the same place it wouldn’t be unreasonable for them to run into each other while on the job. To get Arthur and John to San Fran in the 2020s, Kayne uses his time magic bullshit and sends Arthur and John to there in Earth 688B (the fancy number for the world the Venom movies are set in) to get him some type of mcguffin. there’s a lot of cults in malevolent, so I was thinking maybe there’s something involving the elites in the city that Arthur has to investigate and then steal from later.

Eddie Brock is also investigating this cult but for different reasons. given that it’s the elites in the city, maybe it has something to do with like corrupt officials siphoning money to themselves. or it could be similar to the LIFE Foundation case from Venom 2018, where homeless people were disappearing and being used as guinea pigs for the symbiote trials. either way, he’s trying to get to the bottom of this and expose the corruption. while he’s working on the case, maybe trailing one of the officials in question, he runs into Arthur and they decide to work together on this case.

cue a bunch of shenanigans as they’re both trying to hide the fact that they’re sharing a body with another entity. they’re both doing an awful job at it, they keep talking to themselves and seem to be listening/responding to no one, but neither of them bring it up in case the suspicion is turned onto themselves. John is incredibly suspicious of Eddie and Venom is suspicious of Arthur so Eddie and Arthur’s truce gets strained.

eventually, while like breaking in to get intel on the cult or something, Eddie and Arthur are caught and surrounded by the cultists. Arthur is panicking, trying to figure out how to get out of this situation when Eddie asks him to just trust that he can handle it and for Arthur to get behind him. Arthur does, since there’s not much else he can do, and Eddie transforms into Venom and kills the cultists.

cue John describing Venom to Arthur like: “FUCK OARTHUR. The man we were with has transformed into a hideous beast. He's... grown much larger and is covered in writhing black tendrils. His eyes are are a pearly white and his mouth... His mouth is huge and bristling with wickedly sharp teeth. Oh my god, Oarthur. Jesus Christ, he’s fucking EATING the cultists! Their blood is spattering in crimson smears as their limp bodies fall to the floor.” (credit to @cyborg-empress for that lovely description) because what Arthur clearly needs in a situation where he’s already panicking is for John to describe in excruciating detail how a monster is killing people.

The cultists die and Venom retreats back into Eddie’s body. He runs over to Arthur, swearing that he can explain what just happened. Arthur is understandably freaked out because he just heard John tell him the guy he was working transformed into a monster and started eating people, but he decides to hear Eddie out. He reasons to John that if Eddie was going to eat them, he would’ve done so already on the countless times they’ve been alone together while working on the case.

Eddie tells Arthur about his LIFE Foundation investigation and how he met Venom. Venom pokes their head out to say hi and introduce themselves to Arthur and John is immediately jealous that they can take a physical form separate from their host’s body. After Eddie is done explaining, Arthur decides to tell him about John. Eddie and Arthur decide to remain a team while investigating the cult, and it goes a lot smoother since their secrets are out in the open.

Arthur and John get a chance to use their abilities on the case, just not in combat because let’s be honest they’re not the greatest at that lol. one of their leads turns up dead, Eddie’s slightly panicking because he doesn’t know where to continue this investigation, and Arthur touches their lead and sees how he dies, giving them a new lead to discover who killed them.

While they’re working together, John and Arthur learn more about how to handle their relationship. Insane to say that Venom and Eddie are somehow the more stable relationship in this story because they’re also very deranged but in comparison to John and Arthur they have more of their shit together (and I’m also setting this ambiguously after their divorce/reunion Venom 2, just with some canon divergence since they’re still in San Fran and not Mexico). Arthur goes to Eddie for advice and Eddie tells Arthur that the first step is being honest with one another. Arthur just laughs (but they do start to be more honest with each other <3). Eddie also advices them to “pick their battles” (shout out to the one person who left that note on my other post— you’re a genius) and that not everything is with fighting over since it will just further jeopardize their relationship.

Venom, after watching John and Arthur fight for the millionth time, has a Rosa Diaz moment and tells Arthur that “you two just need to bone”. Arthur has a mini heart attack and is absolutely MORTIFIED. Eddie is furiously blushing and not making eye contact with them, but tells them that if they’re interested in doing that it can help relieve some of the frustrations.

some time during the case Kayne dies (apologies if you are a Kayne enjoyer— I completely understand why people like him he just gets on my nerves). I think he should die in a very unserious way, maybe something similar to Cletus’ death in LTBC where Venom just says “fuck this guy” and bites his head off.

anyways, once everything is said and done Eddie and Arthur get coffee or lunch together. John and Arthur are getting along a lot better, so Eddie askes if they took he and Venom’s advice. Arthur turns beet red and tells him that it’s not an appropriate thing to be asking him. Eddie laughs and smiles knowing.

in my head, Eddie buys Arthur this t-shirt. John vows to never tell Arthur what it says. The end.

[star-centric]

I'm glad to hear you liked the older Nakahara prompt I sent! Hope you don't mind if I send another, I really like this idea as well. I was thinking of the aftermath of Chuuya learning about his siblings' amnesia and thought what if: Dazai got attached to Chuuya's sibling during the time they were together the same way he started to care for Oda and Ango in the future, basically genuinely seeing them as an older sibling. So now, he's constantly bickering back and forth with Chuuya (not that it's any different from Canon) like brothers and arguing over who's the favorite little brother. I say this because Chuuya's sibling would probably start to see him as a younger brother again, but in a sort of "I already have one baby brother, what's one more?" Type of way. They don't remember that he's their actual brother and think he's mistaken them for his actual sibling. They still think Dazai is their brother. I mean this in a funny way. They complain to Kouyou all the time about their "Little brothers who are constantly fighting"

CHARACTERS: Chuuya Nakahara and Older Sibling!Reader

NOTE: I guess this would count as a “sequel” (?) to this post, but that part doesn’t need to be read to understand this!

CW: strictly platonic/familial relationship, fluff, a teeny tiny bit of angst if you squint but it’s barely noticeable, mild language

“What am I going to do Kouyou?”

“I don’t think there is anything you could do.”

You sighed, already tempted to let your head fall on the table. You felt annoyed, confused, and more importantly- tired. Even when they weren’t around, you could still hear their arguments in your head.

You knew that Dazai and Chuuya had…friction between them. It wasn’t weird that they argue- you just didn’t think it would happen so much. It was tolerable at first, but now it’s getting to the point that you’re wondering what you did to deserve this. They may be two of the deadliest assets to the Port Mafia, but they’re still kids- and your little brothers.

“I mean, their fights don’t even make sense half of the time!” You whined. “I know that they’re teens and it’s bound to happen, but every single day? Don’t I deserve a break from this madness too?”

All Kouyou could do is chuckle and sip on her tea. You wish you could be relaxed like she was, even if she was being entertained by your pain at the moment.

“Of course you do- but I don’t think there’s any way for them to get along willingly outside of missions.”

“They can’t even get along during missions.” Which was true. The mission would be complete and you would come back with what was needed, but Dazai and Chuuya would still bump heads. Sometimes you wondered if your targets were grateful that they would be unconscious if it meant not having to listen to literal teens argue about whatever- you were a little jealous.

“They don’t realize how similar they are to each other- same with their goals revolving around you.”

“Which would be what?”

Kouyou was about to answer when you both heard a smash. Then yelling that was indiscernible at first until-

“See? That’s why I’m the favorite brother!”

“Like hell you are- you’re not even their brother!”

“That’s not what they think.”

You groaned while Kouyou watched on Dazai and Chuuya walked in, glaring at one another.

“Seems like that’s my cue to leave.”

“Wait Kouyou please-“

“I’ll stop by another time when you won’t be so…preoccupied. Have fun!” And with that, she walked off, heels clicking down the hall even with the growing yelling nearing your ears.

Dazai and Chuuya were already at each others throat, ready to hurl out more insults when you finally had enough.

You placed a hand on top of their hands, instantly silencing them.

If you didn’t care for them, you would probably both have them on the floor writhing in pain, showing the same mercy that you showed your enemies- which was none.

But you really did care for them- both of them.

“Hey, didn’t I say you two need to start being nicer to each other?”

“You can’t expect me to be nice to that dog-“

“And you can’t expect me to be nice to that bastard!”

You sighed- don’t know why you expected a different outcome.

“You’re both my favorites- so can you please stop now?”

You ruffled their locks, hearing them grumble under their breaths. You rolled your eyes- they can be so dramatic.

“You’re both my brothers, and nothing is going to change that.”

Chuuya snuck away from your touch, keeping his eyes glued to the floor. You’ve both come a long way from your initial meeting, and while there were some rockiness in the beginning, your relationship had gotten significantly better.

You really did see Chuuya as a brother.

But every time you said that, he would always look so…sad. So defeated, so bitter.

“I’m going to report to the boss.”

He sucked his teeth and walked away, not giving you a chance to stop him.

You thought you messed up any chance of a bond at first, but he gravitated towards you like nothing- so what was the issue? Even with Dazai trying to grab your attention, you couldn’t shake off your worriness.

You would try to get him to tell you what’s wrong, but he would just play it off like it’s nothing. The way his eyes looked just now told you a different story.

It bothered you that you couldn’t decipher what was eating at him. Your head would throb in frustration the harder you tried to dived into it. It was like an itch that you couldn’t scratch, the one thing that would linger on your mind each day.

It was like you were forgetting something.

[little-emerald-snake]

Kinktober Day 18

Hair Pulling - Garreth Weasley X F!MC

🔥NSFW 🔞 MDNI

1.9k words

Garreth was hidden in the corner of the Deathday Party room where a group of the graduating class had decided to throw a party for all the graduating students of the school. He’d mostly kept to himself, occasionally chatting with members from his house or the occasional flirty nod to the girls who’d attended and giggled while walking past his table.

One particular girl responded to his nod by slinking over to him and taking a seat at the table in a chair next to him. “Hey Garreth! I’m surprised you're not up dancing and mingling more, you usually seem like the extroverted type.”

He gave her a smug grin and looked her up and down. “Well, if I was doing that then I wouldn’t have attracted the attention of a pretty thing such as yourself, now would I?”

She giggled, shrugging her shoulders and moving a bit closer to the table, gathering the attention of the other table members. “Hm? So I suppose none of you are in for the party games then? All gonna sit aside and watch?”

Garreth’s interest piqued when she mentioned party games. He wasn’t exactly sure what she was up to but he could tell she was going to start trouble, and if it had to do with her, he wanted in on it. “Oh? What party games exactly are you referring to, gorgeous?”

She smirked, wiggling her eyebrows and pulling a bottle from her robes. Garreth, as her advanced potions partner, knew exactly what she had the second he saw the bottle.

Her particular brew she’d been working on would allow the drinker to experience their wildest fantasy with no repercussions. Last he’d known she’d given up on the brew but seeing her with it now he knew he had to act fast.

He stood from the table and grabbed the bottle in one hand and her arm in the other, leading her away from the table of boys. Once out of earshot he leaned in close to her and whisper yelled. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?! Have you even tested this batch yet?”

She gave a sheepish laugh, shaking her head. “You see, about that. I was hoping one of them would wanna test it after I mentioned what it was! Let’s just go back over there and see if any of them want to try it!”

He grabbed her arm as she pulled another bottle from her robes, trying to spin on her heel and head towards the table. He gave her a stern look and shook his head, taking the second bottle from her, which made her pout. “Not a chance. You’re not going and giving a group of horny school boys a bottle of brew for erotic dreams when you haven’t even tested it. Lest this end like last time.”

She chuckled at the memory of her, locked away in the potions class closet for 6 hours after practically giving herself a massive dose of aphrodisiac. Garreth pounding on the door, unable to get out what was wrong with her and her begging him to leave as she writhed on the floor.

He sighed, sticking the bottles of her brew away in his own robes. “Alright, are you gonna give me the rest of the bottles or am I going to have to pat you down for them?”

She scrunched her face in disapproval, rummaging around in her robes before procuring two more bottles. “I’ll give you these…but only if you test them for me and tell me how well they work?”

He contemplated for a moment, looking at the brews in her hands and back at her face, ultimately deciding it was safer for him to try them than for her to give them away. “Fine. But only if you promise not to go about giving anything to anyone else the rest of the night?”

She smirked deviously, causing him to inhale through his nose, bracing himself for her to bolt. To his surprise she only handed him the vials and gave him a simple nod. “Alright, I can agree to those terms. But only if you come with me and test them now so I don’t spend my night being tempted by curiousity?”

He hesitated for a moment, looking around to see who was watching their exchange. None of the boys from his table were watching and neither was anyone else at the party. He sighed, nodding and taking the bottles from her hands, leading her out of the room.

He quickly led her into the potions classroom, shutting and locking the door behind them, grateful that nobody was inside and that Sharp had already gone to his room for the night.

He sat on the floor next to a potions station, giving her a wary look while uncorking one of the bottles. After a small sniff he tipped his head back and downed the contents of the vial in one go.

For the first few moments he felt totally normal, looking around the room, waiting for it to kick in or for him to feel something. After a few moments he realized his legs started to tingle a bit and his vision started to sway and shift just ever so slightly, quickly evening out.

She suddenly appeared from her spot on the stool beside him to the floor in front of him on all fours and his eyes zeroed in, swallowing harshly. She looked him over with a look of curiosity and even though he heard her voice her lips weren’t moving. “Are you…feeling anything yet?”

He swallowed again and gave a nod. He was humiliated that she was his fantasy but he’d half expected it. “Y-yea just a bit. D-definitely feeling something, not sure what yet.”

She giggled, sitting back on her heels, reaching up and undoing her robe, letting it slide off her shoulders and pool around her. His breath caught in his throat, eyes zeroing in on her fingers working off the tie at her neck. “Shit…I’m definitely starting to see something…”

She giggled again, pulling her tie off and sliding herself into his lap. His breath caught when she reached down, her smaller hands gripping his, pulling them up to rest on the buttons of her shirt. “Tell me what’s going on Gar?”

He swallowed thickly and shook his head. “N-no. That’s not a good idea. I’m supposed to experience a fantasy right?”

She grinded her hips on his and he let out a little gasp, tipping his head back against the side of the potion station when her voice rang out again. “Yep, supposed to see and feel a whole fantasy. What’s happening?! Is it working?!”

Her hips ground against him, drawing a breathy moan from him. He shut his eyes tightly, keeping his head tipped against the station. It felt so fucking real but he knew this couldn’t possibly be happening. “Fuck, it’s definitely working. C-can you…go outside of the classroom? I-it feels strange having you in here…”

She made no movements from his lap but he heard her get up, her retreating footsteps heading towards the door of the classroom but the vision of her still in his lap, grinding away. “Fine, but you have to tell me everything after.”

She ground her hips against him harder this time and his nails scratched against the floor, he was way too worked up right now and he knew the aphrodisiac portion hadn’t been fixed but had definitely caused the vision like she’d intended. “F-fine. Just sh-shut up and get out…”

He heard the door close, groaning as he opened his eyes to see her fully naked in his lap. After looking farther down he realized he was also undressed and a groan left his throat when he felt her grind her hips.

The feeling of her wetness dragging across his length felt so real. He couldn’t help his hands landing on her hips, pushing her down against him greedily. He knew he may never feel this again, unsure of how long it would last he was determined to feel as much as he could before it disappeared.

His hand came up to her hair, fisting it roughly. His other hand on her hip, guiding her to slide onto his erection. The feeling was incredible, her silky wetness enveloping him, yanking her head back with a handful of her hair.

She whimpered, rocking her hips on his lap in earnest. He groaned again, burrowing his face into her neck and biting gently while tugging the strands of her hair to tip her head back. The tugging made her moan louder. “Fuck, I knew always imagined you’d sound so fucking pretty getting your hair pulled like this. Bloody hell you get so tight when I pull.”

She rode him faster, his hand moving from her hips to slide down between her legs, his thumb circling her clit making her cry out louder. He held himself back, the urge to end it there so deep inside of him but he stops, knowing he hadn’t quite lived out his fantasy, the one he’d imagined so many nights.

He stilled her, sliding her off and getting her to her hands and knees. Once in doggy, he groaned, pulling her hair into a messy ponytail and tugging just enough to elicit a gasp from her.

He gave a satisfied grin and slid deeply back into her. He rutted into her rather ruthlessly, pulling back on the ponytail, causing her cry out as he fucks her hard.

With every tug of her hair he feels her clench around him tighter. Her wet heat spasming around his hardened length. He listened to her moaning as he held her hair in place, using it to bounce her onto him. “G-Garreth! Harder!”

He growls deeply, fucking into her hard and fast, dropping her ponytail and fisting his hand into her stands. It leaves her breathless as she spasms around him. The feeling of her cumming on him has him spasming wildly and releasing into her heat with a loud groan.

After a moment the vision of her starts to slowly fade in front of him. He finds himself sweating, sitting fully clothed with a now rather sticky mess in his pants, leaned against the potions station.

Before he’s even caught his breath, she’s opened the door to the classroom and peered inside. “Hey! Are you good now? It got quiet.”

He sighed heavily, his mind coming to terms with all that had just transpired, trying to separate what had actually happened and what he’d envisioned. “Y-yea I’m good now. Um…your potion works by the way. Rather fucking well if I might add. Still a bit much on the aphrodisiac though.”

She nods, sliding into the classroom, giving him a sheepish smile. “Oh yea, I heard that. It sounds…and looks…like you had a rather good time. Who was the lucky lady in your fantasy?”

He shakes his head, slowly starting to stand up, trying his best to keep his mess contained in the process. “No. Absolutely not telling you. Not after you listened in on all of it you little shit.”

She giggled, sliding her way in front of him, taking the hand that he isn’t using to lean on the potion station and sliding it into her hair. “You mean you don’t want to see what noises I actually make when you pull on my hair?”

Kinktober Prompt List

[skitskatdacat63]

misc lore drop day 56/?

Preface, I feel like these are getting to be too self indulgent LMAO. Practically getting to be time-period OCs, sorry!  I might stop doing these soon cause they are truly losing the plot I guess. I don’t think they’re overly ooc or anything, but maybe just a bit too much for anyone other than me, and maybe I shall put my focus onto writing ficlets.. We’ll see. I like writing them, but on some level am getting a bit too self aware about how self serving they are(fic can be indulgent but this is just my personal historical brainrot atp.) For daily things like this, I get anxious about stopping, but I’m kinda running out of ideas, or at least, on a more positive note, wanting to write narratives instead. Sorry, I talk about this in the tags all the time, I just wanna make sure I warn in advance.

At one point I wanted to draw, and maybe I will in the future, Seb and Fernando reading books together. As I said before, they’re often attached at the hip, especially in the evening, so it’s pretty normal for them to settle down like this. Sitting on the same couch, making absent commentary. Fernando’s the type to only read political, philosophical and history books. He does enjoy reading but also somewhat considers it to be a frivolity, and will only engage with it to “better himself.” Seb LOVES reading and will devour anything, I mean that’s why his statue is in the imperial library after all. They both know a lot of languages which definitely comes in handy. I digress, I thought in the drawing, it’d be funny to have thought bubbles above their head as they’re reading. Also, sorry this is soooo self indulgent. It’s very funny to imagine Fernando reading The Prince cover to cover a hundred times, because he wants to be a Machiavellian ruler. It’d be too weird for Seb to read that book because it literally discusses his ancestors, it’s a bit jarring. The reason it’s funny though is because Fernando aspires to follow the teachings in the treatise, meanwhile Seb genuinely IS pretty Machiavellian. Fernando’s sitting there reading like, oh my god this is so me. Seb will glance over at it every once in a while and be like, I don’t know, it kinda feels like satire. I think they’re both very blind to who they themselves and each other actually are. Fernando thinks he’s some cruel, magnificent leader, which he really isn’t; this doesn’t mean he’s not magnificent, rather just not in the way he thinks he is. Seb disregards the book and what it says about how being an efficient ruler, and yet he is pretty shrewd and cold-blooded when need be.

So what’s Seb reading? Don Quixote. Who does it remind him of? Fernando, of course. Though Fernando doesn’t get what Seb finds so funny. He’s an admirable man! He’s on a quest, like all of us are in life! He doesn’t give up!! Seb dies of laughter making Fernando read out the long speeches, because it suits him sooo well. I also like to imagine Seb making everyone read out Shakespeare plays with him. He definitely acts them out and everyone is just staring at him blankly as he writhes on the floor in pretend agony. He’s suspicious about how into the whole poison part in Romeo and Juliet Fernando is, considering he tends to hate romance novels(despite being a romantic.)

[xamaxenta]

Thinking about how you mentioned a treasure chest mimic that’s also a tentacle Eldritch horror inside but because it’s a treasure chest it’s smaller than the Iron Maiden so I’m imagining Ace and Marco are exploring a dungeon and Ace goes too far ahead and stumbles across a chest and excitedly goes to open it but tentacles spill out at him. He manages to jump away but not far at all cause the tentacles are grabbing his legs and pulling him into the mouth of it, because of its size it manages to pull Ace in only to the waist but his legs and hips and ass inside of it are assaulted with the amalgamation of slimy flesh. He’s struggling against it because he can feel his pants and boots being melted off and every inch of his skin inside of it being squeezed and played with and he’s screaming for Marco.

And anyway Marco follows his voice and that’s how he finds him. Bottom half of him stuck in an unsuspecting treasure chest (from the outside at least) and Ace writhing and gasping and begging please please help me. And that’s when the tentacle pushes inside of him and he’s wailing and Marco’s knelt down next to him like what’s wrong, how are you stuck it’s just a chest, are you feeling sick? And Ace is just struggling to breathe properly cause he’s getting fucked so deep and so hard right in front of Marco and he’s so out of his mind he can’t vocalize it and Marco doesn’t know what’s going on

All this to say stuck in a wall type thing (more like stuck in a box) and trying not to cum from the fucking cause your crush and best friend is right in front of you but it’s too much and it feels too good

I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense I am very tired fjskfj

Treasure hunters Marcoace going off on another adventure only for Ace to get into a sticky situation 👀

Very enjoyable that Ace is getting railed so hard he cant even speak up to explain whats happening

Maybe Marco holds his hand which is very sweet but to him also very scary and it fucks Ace up a little that Marco cant rly help him

Until it gets too much and Marco has to.. smash the treasure chest and then Ace can flop onto the floor cringing as the tentacles wither and die around him leaving him in a puddle of too much cum and tentacle juice

Marco says nothing but realises he might have unlocked a hidden kink he didnt know about until now

[grahamstoney]

Friday Afternoon Music Therapy

New Post has been published on https://grahamstoney.com/music/friday-afternoon-music-therapy

Friday Afternoon Music Therapy

I spent this afternoon playing drums with my new musician friends from kirtan, for two different local groups of disabled people. I have never actually played with this group before, so I’m not sure what to expect. Although I’ve been [intlink id=”751″ type=”post”]playing drum kit[/intlink] for a while and used to play tamborim in a samba band, I’ve never played the drums I’m playing today before either (a cajón and a dunun), for more than a few minutes. So really all I can do is wing it on stage in front of our captive audience.

How Hard Can It Be?

The first gig is for a group of adolescents with Down syndrome. Despite my lack of practice, experience or rehearsal, they love it. If there’s one thing to be said for people with Down Syndrome, they sure know how to let loose and have a good time. Before long they are up dancing, jiving and laughing, showing far less inhibition than I have. One of the guys gets down on the floor and breaks into a spontaneous rap dance. We aren’t even playing hip-hop. But that isn’t about to stop him. Before long, one of his mates joins him; both of them writhing around on the floor unselfconsciously to our beats.

In contrast, I feel really self-conscious when our leader suggests that we start doing some “laughter yoga”, playing music to the sound of various different people in the band laughing. When it comes to my turn, I laugh away feeling ridiculous. I feel the rush of blood to my face and the feelings of shame at looking foolish; and the audience love it. One of the girls is laughing so much that it looks as though she is about to fall off her chair. By the end of the song the audience are all laughing more than we are.

The second gig is for a group of adults with physical and intellectual disabilities. Actually, I don’t know for sure that they all have an intellectual disability; that could just be my own prejudice shining through. Half of them are in wheel chairs and their speech and movement are awkward. The part-aboriginal woman with most of her teeth missing sitting on my left takes an immediate liking to me. She quickly reaches out to touch and hold my hand, and it isn’t long before we are high-fiving each other. This is a lot of fun at first, but it gets a little distracting as the gig progresses.

Once again this group has something valuable to teach me about going for what you want regardless of the apparent constraints of the situation, or of what other people might think. She wants to hold my hand, and the fact that I am currently using that hand to hit a drum isn’t about to get in her way.

Then there is another guy down the back who yells “Jesus!” at the top of his voice every few minutes. Just as an exclamation; it doesn’t seem like he is using it either as a swear word or in a religious capacity really. I assume he has Tourette’s, but once again he seems undeterred by any thoughts of what the people around him might be thinking. Praise the Lord.

I’m not exactly sure what to make of the woman down the back with the walking frame, who spends most of the gig marching to and fro across the room with her tongue stuck out. How does she avoid dehydration when her tongue appears to be spending more time outside of her mouth than inside? Still, she seems to be enjoying it.

Some of the songs that we play are quite meditative, and I look over at one point to see a woman in the audience who appears to be in a deep state of trance. I can’t honestly say for sure whether this is the result of the music that we are playing, whether it is medication-induced, or whether that is just how she always looks. Either way, she seems to be enjoying the experience.

The gig ends with a beautiful improvised flute, guitar, drum and didgeridoo piece. The audience are obviously grateful, and I feel happy about the way I chose to spend this afternoon as I pack up to go home. My life may not be perfect, but seeing people trapped in bodies that don’t give them the freedom that I enjoy really puts some of my problems into perspective.

On the other hand, I wasn’t the only one to notice the lack of inhibition in some of our other audience members this afternoon either. As we pack the cars to leave, one of the other guys from the group comments: “You really gotta wonder sometimes who has the disability… them, or us.”

[daytaker]

A Very Normie Christmas (Chapter 5)

Ship: Levi x Reader Length: Cross-posted on AO3

“Let's get this straight. You work for me. And when I’m finished with you, I’m taking you apart piece by piece and throwing you in Beel’s dinner, and no one will ever know you existed. You understand?”

Leviathan stands in a quaint little shop in the human world, staring at a cluster of fake leaves and berries with distrust. Of all the superficial, overhyped fads normies engage in, is there any more stupid and egregious than the custom of the mistletoe kiss?

Just looking at it makes Levi’s stomach turn. The nerve of some people, flaunting this symbol of seasonal affection around. As if typical PDA isn’t gross enough. What’s the point of something like this?

No. Levi knows what the point is. It’s to remind people like him, people like Levi, what they’re too pathetic and weird and unlovable to have. It’s a power play. It’s a sign of dominance. It’s the hand of mainstream culture reaching out and slapping him across the face. The fact that this one isn’t even real only makes it worse.

Gritting his teeth, Levi takes it to the checkout counter.

----------

“Let’s get this straight,” Levi hisses at the cluster of polymer leaves and plastic berries once he’s back in his room. He’s standing on the rim of his bathtub, fastening the sprig to a piece of string dangling from the ceiling. “You work for me. And when I’m finished with you, if you do your job, I’m taking you apart piece by piece and throwing you in Beel’s dinner, and no one will ever know you existed. You understand?”

The mistletoe doesn’t say anything.

“Believe me, that’s a lot better than what’ll happen to you if you don’t work. Satan knows a curse that can make inanimate objects feel pain, and he owes me a favor.”

Pulling his D.D.D. from his pocket, Levi opens his texts, starts to type, feels the urge to throw up, and chucks the device into the tub before covering his face and groaning loudly. Why, oh, why is he doing this to himself? He hates this. He hates Christmas. He hates traditions too, and he hates kissing.

Well, maybe he doesn’t really hate kissing. He wouldn’t know, he reflects gloomily. And he probably never will.

He stares at the floor a few feet below him and wobbles slightly. He should really get down from—

----------

You happen to be walking by when you hear a yelp, a heavy thump, and a pained groan from Leviathan’s room. Concerned, you approach the door and give it a few sharp knocks.

“Levi?”

The only reply you get is the sound of another agonized groan.

“Are you okay?”

“Just kill me!” comes the response.

That doesn’t sound good. Opening the door, you peek inside. Levi is sprawled on the floor beside his bathtub bed, gripping his head with both hands and writhing pathetically.

You hurry over to the fallen demon. “What happened?” you ask, hovering over him.

All his movements stop, but his fingers grip his hair a little bit tighter. “Go away.”

“No! What’d you do to yourself?”

“This is my room,” Levi snaps, his voice somewhat muffled by the floor. “Am I not allowed to lie on my face and make noises in my own room?”

“Did you fall down?” You look at the nearby tub, and your eyes are drawn to the ceiling. You squint. “Huh. Is that–?”

“AHHHHHHHH.” Levi cuts you off with an exaggerated groan, and his hands shift from his hair to his ears, which you can see have turned red. “Am I not allowed to hang Christmas decorations in my room either? Are you the bedroom police?!”

“Levi…”

You’re starting to see what’s happening here.

“I’m an otaku. All I want in the world is my own personal space where I can indulge my interests in private. I didn’t think that was such a big ask, but apparently–”

You sit down on the floor next to him. “Levi.”

“What?!”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to—”

“Good!”

“—but we’re under the mistletoe right now.”

Levi’s whining and groaning stop, and he goes very quiet and very still. About twenty seconds pass before he speaks lowly. “...I see.”

He waits another five or ten seconds before pushing himself up into a seated position. When he faces you, you’re not surprised that his face is beet red, or that he’s stringently avoiding eye contact.

“...Seriously, are you okay?” you ask again.

Levi waves the question off with some garbled nonsense. He glances at you for a fraction of a second before looking away again, redder than ever.

“Christmas is the most normie holiday in the world,” he sighs, his voice still low and quiet, almost a grumble. “But practically every game that updates regularly has seasonal content. Sell-outs.”

You glance up at the mistletoe. It’s clearly artificial, and it isn’t the dark variety common to the Devildom. You wonder where he even got it.

“It’s not all bad,” you say softly. “I mean, who doesn’t like presents?”

Levi gives a grudging shrug.

“And besides, when else will I get a good excuse to kiss you?”

Levi’s eyes widen for a second before he abruptly goes on the defensive. “A-A-Are you making fun of me? In my own room? What… Whaaaaaa-what are you doing?”

You’d leaned in very close, but you hesitate before actually sealing the deal. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Kh! Pff? Uh, nnn…. Yes.”

----------

That evening at dinner, Beelzebub coughs up a little red plastic ball. You cast Leviathan a questioning glance, and he pulls his Switch up to his face to hide his grin.

Kiss all the boys under the mistletoe. Have one you want who isn't there yet? Comment or request and your wish shall be granted.

[jungwonenthusiast]

nonvirgin!jay and inoccent virgin!femreader just making out while reader is sitting on jay's lap and they end up getting horny and they end up doing it. you can add more things if you want, I trust you

A/N: I’m kind of a sucker for the “taking the readers virginity” concept so forgive me if i get carried away lol (also forgive me if i played too much into the “innocent” concept, ik that its unrealistic but its just for funzies lol)

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f recieving), fingering (f recieving), slight corruption kink, pretty vanilla i think

Word count: 1.8 k

You watch Jay type away on his laptop at his desk. You notice the muscles shifting under his shirt every time he reaches for a sip of water.

You guys never went further than making out and for a while you were fine and happy with that, but these days you’re finding it harder and harder not to tug his shirt off and push him onto the bed.

“Hi baby,” Jay says as you sit sideways on his lap. “What’s up.”

“Are you done yet?” you ask.

“Almost,” he kisses your cheek. He’s studying for an exam he has next week. “What were you doing?”

“Nothing,” you groan.

He chuckles. “We can hang out for a bit but then I have to go back to working, okay?”

You smile and peck him on the lips. Then again, and again, and again until your mouths are parting and his tongue is against yours. He adjusts you so that you’re straddling him in his desk chair. His hands warm and comfortable on your waist. He’s never touched you anywhere other than ur head, arms, legs, and waist, and right now you want something more. You take his hand and trail it up to your chest. He smiles into the kiss.

You can tell that he’s surprised and nervous judging from how gentle his hand is on you. But after a few minutes he begins to indulge in this new privilege and softly massaging you as you let out small moans.

You pull away from him. “Do you wanna- go to the bed?” you ask.

“Of course.” he chuckles and carries you to the mattress.

He lays you down gently before climbing on top of you.

You pull him in for another kiss.

He nudges his knee between your thighs and you can’t help but rock your hips against him. He notices and it gives him an instant hard on.

“Jay,” you exhale.

“Mhm?” he asks, peppering kisses down your throat.

“I wanna uhm- do it?” you say unsurely, giggling.

“Really?” he looks at you, wide eyed and you nod. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” you say sheepishly, not making eye contact.

He smirks and goes back to kissing your neck, now with tongue. You feel his hands travel up your sweatshirt (his sweatshirt actually) and you take a deep breath, trying not to whimper from his gentle touch.

His hands move to grope your chest and he pinches your sensitive nipples lightly. You whine and squirm underneath him.

“Do you need something?” he asks and you feel blood rush to your cheeks.

“Yeah,” you say quietly.

“What is it sweetheart?” he kisses your forehead. “Don’t be shy.”

“Touch me please.” you say into his neck, not able to look at him.

“Good girl,” he says before slowly sliding his fingers down down down into your underwear.

You twitch right away.

“Have you never..?” he asks and you blush.

“I have, but I’ve never...finished.” you say sheepishly.

He nods. "Let's change that shall we?"

He kisses your jaw before gently circling your clit. You grip at his forearm and he smirks.

“You’re doing so good.” he coos before kissing you softly.

He pushes your hoodie up and wastes no time to get to kissing your chest, running his tongue over your nipples.

You whimper and grind your hips against his fingers. “More.”

Soon all of your clothes are on his bedroom floor. He pulls away to admire your figure but you can’t help you try to cover up. He doesn’t try to pull your arms away though he just comes up to you and says: “You know how beautiful you are right?”

You turn your head away from him, blushing. “Shut up.”

He chuckles and kisses your shoulder. “Really though, you’re hot as fuck.”

Your eyes widen. No one has ever called you that before. You usually get “cute” or “pretty”, never hot.

He plants kisses from your shoulder to your lower stomach, stopping every now and then to give you a hickey. You’re already gripping at the duvet by the time he gets to your hips. You writhe, not being able to stand the burning between your legs.

“Patience baby,” he kisses your inner thigh. “It’ll feel better if you wait.”

He sucks hickies on your soft flesh and you can literally feel yourself dripping.

“Please,” you beg. “I need it.”

He smirks before opening his mouth, getting nearly all of your cunt on his tongue. Your knees instantly snap around his head but he’s quick to push them back open, keeping you spread and pretty for him.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, your fingers lacing through his black hair. It’s new; not being able to control your pleasure, but at the same time, that’s what made it so good.

He pushes his tongue into you before circling it around your clit. “Fuck, you taste good.” he growls.

Your hips twitch as he works his tongue against you and you whimper.

He pulls away to slowly push a finger into you. You whine and grip at his forearm.

“You okay?” he asks before kissing you, letting you taste yourself. You nod, getting used to the foreign feeling.

“One more.” you say and he graciously obeys.

Your head falls back as he stretches you out.

“So wet.” he whispers while massaging your chest with his free hand. “You’re taking my fingers so well.” he purrs while pushing up on your sweet spot.

He rests the base of his palm against your clit, letting you grind against him.

You start to feel a strange sensation in your stomach. “Fuck,” you moan. “I can’t I can’t.”

“It’s okay baby,” he kisses your cheek. “Just feel it.”

Your grip on his arm tightens as you start to get closer and closer.

“You can do it,” he whispers. “Be good.”

Your legs begin to tremble and before you know it, your orgasm crashes over you like a big, cold, wave. Your eyes close shut and your mouth parts as you whimper softly.

He kisses your cheeks while slowly pumping his fingers into you.

“You did so good,” he says. “How was it?”

“Really good,” you exhale with a giggle. You shut your legs. “I’m embarrassed now~”

“Why?” he chuckles.

You cover your face with your hands. “You just saw me do that.”

“So? I wanted to,” he kisses you softly. “And it was really hot.”

He pulls his fingers out of you and slips them into his mouth. Your eyes widen. He smirks. “You taste too good.”

Good god he’s hot, you think. You kiss him hard. “Fuck me please.”

It only takes seconds for his jeans to be unzipped and his shirt to be on the floor.

He teases your clit with his tip before slowly pushing into you, stopping every couple of seconds to help you adjust.

You don’t struggle much considering how wet and worked up you are.

He kisses your jaw. “Ready?”

“Mhm,” you nod with excitement.

He gives you a sweet kiss before thrusting into you, hitting your g spot every time.

You cling onto his back, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

“You’re so wet,” he growls. “I never knew that my sweet girl would want to be ruined like this.”

You shy away from him but he holds your face.

“Don’t be shy sweetheart.”

You nuzzle into his neck. “Harder.”

He smirks before grabbing the headboard and pounding into you. You let out a loud whine and it’s music to his ears.

“Look how good you take it.” he caresses your hair. “My precious baby.”

“You feel so good.” you whimper. “How does it feel so good?”

He chuckles lightly, amused by your confusion.

“Maybe it’s because we’re meant for eachother.” he says and you giggle.

You wonder if anyone else knows how sweet he is. His heart must be made of honey.

You mewl under him, grabbing onto everything you can reach out of desperation.

“Touch yourself.” he says and your eyes go wide. “You heard me, I wanna watch you.”

You shyly trail your fingers down to your clit. He places his hand on top of yours for a moment to get it moving.

You moan as the feeling of his cock inside of you and your fingers on your clit begin to combine.

“Oh my god don’t stop,” you beg as he grinds his hips into yours.

He wouldn’t even dream of stopping. The way your eyebrows are furrowing, your mouth is parting, and your smooth skin under his hands is enough to drive him insane. He’s basically drunk on you. He could do this all day.

“I love you.” you whisper and he kisses your jaw.

“I love you too sweetheart.”

He continues to ruthlessly snap his hips against yours.

“Such good pussy,” he says to himself.

“Jay,” you whisper, barely being able to speak. Your legs are trembling and your hips are starting to twist.

“Cum for me baby,” he encourages you. “Make me proud.”

He watches as you come undone. Your eyes rolling back, your back arching, all of it. It’s enough to send him over the edge.

He groans into your neck as your cunt pulses around him. You hold onto him tight, still in shock from the orgasm he gave you.

He kisses your collarbone and rubs your waist. “Good girl.” he says before kissing your forehead.

He pulls out and quickly rushes to get a towel to clean you up.

Comfortable silence wafts by as he does so.

“What am I supposed to say now?” you joke and he laughs.

“Usually you just say ‘you were so good’ or something like that.”

You frown. “I don’t wanna be reminded that you’ve had sex with other people before.”

“Why? Does it make you jealous?” he teases.

“A little.” you roll your eyes.

“Okay this will be my first time from now on.” he says and you giggle.

“We just lost our virginities dude.”

“Sick right?” he plops down beside you and gives you a fist bump.

[supernaturalgirl20]

To be loved by the devil!

Pairings: the thief/the devil x reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving),fluff, jealousy, mentions of God and biblical stuff, cursing.

Summary: the devil has searched a lifetime for his soulmate, with no luck. A chance encounter at a lavish party changes everything.

A/N: I’m a little late to the party with the commercial, but hey I got there in the end. This is purely self indulgent.

{Comments and reblogs really appreciated}

You’d heard the stories, your grandmother spoke often about them. How the devil walks among us tricking people into giving him their soul for earthly treasures. That however was not his true intentions, no, he searched for something far more precious. His soulmate! You had laughed at your grandmother, “the devil does not have a soulmate, he’s the devil.”

“Laugh all you want girl, but every being on this earth has a soulmate. El Diablo has walked the earth searching for her for a lifetime.” You learned not to question her, to just let her tell her stories, for that was all they were, stories. El Diablo was not real.

Sarah had invited you to some lavish party at this huge historic home in the middle of nowhere. It was some art dealer or something that was hosting it and you were under strict instructions to wear something formal. If you were being honest you didn’t really want to go, but Sarah wasn’t the type of person you said no to.

As you finished off your make up, you look yourself over in the mirror. Not bad. You bought a new dress for tonight, a red backless dress with thin straps. It was form fitting with a slit up the side. It made you feel powerful, sexy. A car horn startled you and you grabbed your purse and made your way outside.

“Y/N, you look stunning. You need to come to these with me more often.”

“Thanks. Ready to go?”

“Oh you bet.”

The driver pulled out of the drive and away you went. You drove out of the city and away from civilisation. There were trees everywhere, it made you feel like you were in a different world entirely. The closer you got, the more your body tingled. You felt a weird sensation deep within you, like something or someone was calling your body, calling it home.

Arriving at the house, we’ll mansion really, you we’re in awe of its beauty. Whoever owned it was extremely wealthy. Upon entry you were both given masquerade masks. Yours was a beautiful black lace mask with small diamonds running through it. Sarah leaves you at the bar to talk to some work colleagues and while your sipping on your champagne, you feel a set of eyes on you. Turning around you look out into the crowd, but you don’t see anyone staring at you. Suddenly a figure looms over you, “what is a beautiful women like you doing all alone?”

“Oh I’m not, I’m with a friend.” He looks around dramatically, “I’d don’t see anyone.”

“She’s dancing.”

“Can I get you a drink?”

“Well there free, so I’m good.”

“Hey no need to be rude, I was being nice.”

“Look I’m sorry but I’m not interested. There are loads of beautiful women here, I’m sure one of them will let you get them a drink.” You can tell from his clenched fists that he’s annoyed. He turns to leave, muttering under his breath.

“Fucking bitch.”

You hated guys like him, ignorant assholes. Thinking if they get you a drink it’s a one way ticket into your knickers. Downing the glass you get another. This was going to be a long night.

“I’m so sorry, I’m back now. Wanna dance?”

“Ugh, do I have to?”

“Yes, now come on.” Sarah grabs your hand and pulls you behind her. You join some of her friends from work and you notice Jake is with them. You have had a huge crush on him since Sarah’s birthday party last year.

“Y/N, you came.”

“Yeah, we’ll I didn’t really have a choice. You know how Sarah is.”

“Yeah tough cookie.”

Suddenly the music shifts to a slow set and Jake pulls you into him.

“You don’t mind, do you? I promise I can dance.”

“No I don’t mind. Lead the way.” He was an amazing dancer and the feel of his arms around you sent butterflies to your stomach. Jake is telling you how beautiful you look but you can’t concentrate, you fee someone staring again. That feeling you got in the car comes back, growing more intense by the second until..

“Mind if I cut in?”

You turn towards the voice and all you can see are these beautiful brown eyes staring at you. It’s like there staring right into your soul.

“Uh..”

Jake doesn’t get to say a word, mystery man has you whisked away. The feel of his arm around your waist and the smell of his cologne has you dizzy.

“You are very beautiful, mi ángel.” You can feel the blush rise up onto your cheeks. You can’t help staring at his eyes, it’s like you’ve known him a lifetime and yet you just met.

“I have waited a lifetime for your mi amor.”

“What do you mean?”

“Can you not feel it deep within your soul? We are destined to be together, you are mine and I am yours.”

“I…I..”

He swings you around and lowers you back. His lips trail down your neck and it sends a spark straight to your core. When he pulls you back up, your no longer in the ballroom. Looking around it appears as if your in a bedroom. There is a huge four poster bed and the room is illuminated by the crackling fire. You can see him more clearly now, in his long house coat. He slowly removes the mask and it’s like something has taken your breath away. He’s so handsome, with those deep brown eyes you could get lost in, his curved nose that suits his face perfectly and that thick head of hair that has you wanting to run your fingers through it. He’s right in front of you and as he pulls you close, something about him feels like home.

“You do not know how long I have waited for you mi amor. No matter, I have you now, nothing will separate us again.”

“I don’t know..”

He places his hands on your cheeks and pulls you into a sweet kiss. Suddenly your head is spinning and images flash behind your eyes. Images of you and him, together, in love until god separated you both. As punishment, for Lucifer betraying him, you both were cast out, soulmates ripped apart. Your memories of him were wiped and he was bound to a lifetime searching for you. When he pulls away you have tears in your eyes, “Luc” you lean up and kiss him again, this time more passionately.

“You remember me?”

“Yes! I’m sorry I ever forgot.”

“It wasn’t your fault mi amor, I was to blame for all this, but no matter. We’re together again and I will not let you go this time.”

His hand caressed your shoulders and the straps of your dress fell. With one tug, it pooled around your feet. You stepped out of it and reached up to push his coat off his shoulders. He backed you up until the back of your legs hit the bed, he lay you back gently, kissing his way down your body. He nudges your thighs apart and begins kissing the inside of them, slowly inching towards your aching pussy. He pulls your hips closer and slants his mouth over your core. His tongue searches through your folds, before finding the little pearl of your clitoris. Your nerve endings tingle with pleasure as you writhe beneath him. His gorgeous face rises from between your legs, a devilish smirk on his face. You grasp the sheets desperately trying to anchor yourself as a wave of ecstasy washes over you. Luc entwines his hand in yours, holding you steady. He kisses his way over your hips, along your stomach, sweeps his tongue over the peak of your breasts, before settling his body against yours.

He kisses your lips passionately before slowly inching himself inside you.

“Fuck mi amor……I forgot how tight you were. I love you.”

The weight of him on top of you feels perfect. His movements are slow and languid and you need more.

“I need you to move faster Luc.” You lock your ankles behind his firm ass, pulling him closer and urging him to go hard. You can feel the tight knot in your stomach threatening to unravel.

“I’m close baby, want you to come with me.”

He reaches between you and presses his thumb over your clit, rubbing circles.

“Fuck yes!”

You cry out as fierce waves of pleasure crash over you, your whole body trembling with the force of your climax. He thrusts into you once more before he follows you over the edge, blowing his seed deep inside you. He pulls out of you and you feel empty without him. He disappears into the en-suite to grab a wash cloth, before coming back and gently cleaning you up. He throws it on the floor before climbing under the duvet with you. Pulling you close he kisses your forehead.

“Te amo, mi amor. I am never letting you go again mi ángel. He will not take you from me again.”

“I am with you now forever mi amor.”

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[the-insomniac-emporium]

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T for language and mild medical drama

Warnings: Typical Vampire shenanigans

Genre: Hurt + comfort

Summary: Bela is somewhat unprepared to deal with a soulmate who has no clue about her condition, her family, or any of the village's secrets. Thankfully, her sister Cassandra is more than willing to be a bad example. Also there's some fluff.

Notes: For reference, each of my soulmate stories take place in their own contained timeline, since they each involve different types of soulmates. So in this one, Cass doesn't currently have a soulmate.

Previous Chapters: 1: Stem the Flow

2: Tangled Strands

A gentle humming fills the space around you, as fingers slowly run through your hair. As far as you can tell you had fallen back asleep, for several hours, and you were just now waking back up. No longer holding you down, your soulmate is curled up next to you. There’s still a needle in your arm, much to your irritation, but now you can finally see what it’s connected to: An IV for a transfusion. Explains why I’m feeling so much better than before, you think. Then you’re turning your head to the other side, eager to finally get a good look at your soulmate. Instantly you’re blushing, tongue tying itself into a knot, because wow are you lucky.

“Feeling any better?” She asked, as soon as your gaze met hers. You try to stutter out a confirmation, but you’re too distracted by the soft curve of her smile to speak, and barely even manage a nod. That beautiful smile grows wider in response. “Good. I couldn’t stand the thought of you suffering more, after what you’ve already been through.” Now her smile fades, and she looks away for a few moments. Watching it makes your heart ache. So you swallow the lump in your throat, willing yourself to relax, before trying a little comforting of your own.

“I am safe now, am I not? Moreso, we have too much to talk about for us to dwell on the ill circumstances of our introduction. Let us cherish this time, in respite, with our hearts open wide to one another,” you said, donning your softest smile. Somehow your words fulfill their purpose, and your soulmate is once again grinning. Slowly she leans forward to rest her forehead against yours. Then she’s speaking, voice as smooth as the sheets you lay on.

“You are right, of course. I simply wish I could have saved you sooner,” she replied, tone betraying the sadness that her expression otherwise hid. Before you can protest, she continues talking, and you soon forget all about your qualms. “To think I don’t even know your name yet… nor you mine, I suppose. Let’s remedy that, yes? I am Bela Dimitrescu.” Something about her last name feels familiar to you, but not to the point of clear recognition. Instead of inquiring, you return her favor, giving her your own name. She repeats it back a few times, letting the syllables roll off her tongue, and you feel your heart skip a few beats. “A lovely name for a lovely soul, perfectly paired.”

A pause, followed by Bela reaching out to examine your IV. Following her gaze, you turn to the metal hook adjacent to the bed, where a blood bag hangs. Only a few drops remain inside. Just as when you first awoke, Bela gives a soft hum, then rises into a sitting position. Your first instinct is to copy the motion, and you’re relieved when (this time) she doesn’t push you back down. Both of you quietly inch your hands closer until they’re laid on top of each other.

“I wish I knew more about medicine, but unfortunately my family is more experienced in the creation of wounds than the treatment of them,” Bela said, scowling. Confused, you tilt your head at a slight angle, watching her with interest. Am I supposed to know who she’s referring to? My memories of the past couple days are still hazy, you think. “Do… do you remember how you ended up in the dungeon? I know you wanted to speak of happier things, and we can, soon. It’s just… Knowing how you arrived here may help me deal with the consequences of freeing you. Mother will be dreadfully upset that I’ve interrupted a draining, even if we are soulmates.”

“Wait, are you saying…? The intimidating giantess who strung me up and attempted to bleed me dry… is your mother?” You asked, jaw nearly dropping to the floor. This was an unexpected development, for sure.

“You didn’t know?” Bela replied, eyes going wide for a moment. Clearly she wouldn’t have said anything if she realized you weren’t already aware. Suddenly the tension in the room is palpable, with an uncomfortable silence overtaking the two of you. In the moment, you cannot even bring yourself to look at Bela, too stunned by this new knowledge. Eventually she breaks the silence, voice sounding unsure for once. “I realize that this is a lot to take in, if you need time to process it, I… I can go. But you need to understand that our situation is far more complicated than it might appear. We cannot survive without the blood of others- it is what sustains us when nothing else can.”

Now you’re staring at her like she’s crazy, and she’s standing up, moving to the other side of the room. She draws back a curtain, gazing out into the snow covered hills. Every muscle in your body is urging you to run while she’s distracted. Thread of fate be damned, this went far beyond anything you had ever imagined having to deal with. You come so close to ripping the IV right out of your arm. But a gentle tug on your soul string makes you pause, remembering all the times this bond gave you hope in dark times. Had she felt the same way, all these years? What had she gone through, in this absurd castle, on the very edges of civilization? You pull on the red thread, feeling a wave of composure wash over you.

“It appears there is much I need to learn. But is that not the very nature of our connection? We know, simply, that we are bound to each other, though we know not what shapes our souls take so that we might put them together, nor even what roles we must play. I cannot say that I understand your plight, my dear, but I will try, as is my obligation, and my honor,” you said, wishing you could hold her, and cursing your IV. As soon as the first word leaves your mouth, Bela is turning around, watching you with a bittersweet expression. Once you’re done she’s moving closer, as if reading your mind, extending a hand to cup your cheek. Then she leans forward to press a brief kiss to your forehead. “Oh, how I have longed for this- to be with you, to get to know you.”

“As did I,” she murmured. You can’t help but lean into her touch, closing your eyes and enjoying the moment. “Perhaps I should introduce you to my family? I imagine you’ll be needing breakfast anyway, and bringing human food back to my quarters would raise more suspicion than I’d like.” Well, the moment couldn’t last forever, could it?

“Only if you promise that your mother won’t suspend me by my wrists again. Or by any other part of me. Shall we simply put suspension off the table altogether?” You asked, half teasing. To be entirely honest, you were equally worried about Bela’s sisters. Well, the people you had heard other prisoners whispering about, who were the daughters of the giantess, and by connecting a few dots were also, presumably, Bela’s sisters. Apparently they preferred to play with their food. Unless, of course, Bela was one of the daughters you had heard about, and would have easily torn into you if not for your connection. Let’s not dwell on that concept, you think, glad to be distracted by your soulmate.

“I will not let anyone harm you anymore, my beloved. My mother would not stand so firmly in the way of my happiness,” Bela reassured, though you detected a hint of uncertainty in her tone. Still, there wasn’t much you could do other than trust her. “Now, let me take care of your bandages, then we’ll head downstairs…”

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

“Who the fuck is this?” An unfamiliar voice asked, as you meandered down the corridor, arm around Bela for support. As soon as she hears the person speak, your soulmate is freezing in place, casting a worried glance over her shoulder. When you turn as well, you spot someone dressed almost identically to Bela. However, the woman wears a yellow pendant, as opposed to a red one, and her hair is a dark brown. It feels safe to assume that she’s one of the sisters you’ve heard about. Which understandably makes you nervous, to the point where you almost want to hide behind Bela. Instead, you stand tall, attempting to seem unfazed by either her presence or her vulgarity.

“Mind your manners, Cassandra,” Bela hissed, taking more of an aggressive stance than you had anticipated. “This, dear sister, is my soulmate. And if you even think about harming them, or getting in our way, I will tear you apart.” While you’re downright shocked at the intensity of Bela’s statement, her sister doesn’t look at all impressed, and eyes you with minimal interest. Better than looking at you with hatred, right? Apparently not, as Bela moves to stand between the two of you, eyes narrowed. There’s a clear stiffness in her posture that leaves you anxious. Cassandra seems to notice it as well, and laughs, before taking a few steps in your direction. Then your soulmate mimics the movement, forcing you to do so as well.

“They’re human,” Cassandra snapped, pausing to sniff the air and scowl. “Here I thought your soulmate would have to be special, if they’re to compare to your ego. You’re disappointed, aren’t you? Having to settle for this.” With that she shifts, flesh writhing, making your stomach churn as you watch her disintegrate into a cloud of… flies? What the hell is wrong with this family? Can Bela do that too? I hope not, you think. Soon you’re pulled from your thoughts, however, as the swarm circles around you, single insects occasionally surging forward to cut at your skin. But Bela is grabbing you by the sleeve and tugging you to her chest, moving against a wall so that her body shielded your own. Your eyes clamp shut as you shake in her arms. When the buzzing stops, it is quickly replaced with cruel laughter. “That fragile, hmm? I can’t wait to see what mother thinks. See you at breakfast, sister!”

Then the two of you are alone, still pressed against the wall, staying still until the sound of footsteps fade. You’re stunned, unsure of how to react. The fact that a few drops of blood roll down your cheek only makes things worse. Still, Bela managed to prevent you from getting too hurt, and the few wounds on your body are negligible. Ever filled with gratitude, you hold her close as you try to stutter out a few sentences.

“Is she always this hostile, or am I truly not what you had expected? No, pay me no mind, it hardly matters. Thank you for protecting me,” you whispered. In response, Bela gives you a little squeeze, then pulls back enough to wipe the blood from your face. There’s a hint of something odd in her expression, which you interpret to be related to her apparent ‘need for blood’. Thankfully, she is in perfect control, and does not frenzy the same way you had read about fictional vampires doing. But she does hesitate, words dying on her tongue, like there are a thousand things she wants to say, and no words to say them with. “It’s alright, my dear. Let’s just go to breakfast, like we planned, and hope your sister behaves better when supervised.”

Bela nods, quickly, before taking your hand in her own. Whatever awaited you in the dining room, the two of you would be ready. Hopefully.

[sunder-soul]

first of all your work is AMAZING- like damn that smut? 👀 but anyway- i’ve had this concept for awhile imagine that reader was the one who made the design for the dark mark for tom riddle? like y/n is an artist and likes to draw, paint, all that jazz, and she saw the symbol in like her dreams or something and decided to draw it. and then tommy boy sees it and takes a liking to it like, “...i could use that-“ i don’t if this is a weird ask or not but i thought it was interesting. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

So this has been in my inbox for so long bc I just couldn’t crack how I wanted to tackle it and then yesterday BOOM I had an idea so here I am!! Hope you enjoy  💖

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. 

Consume

Summary: Reader looks into Tom Riddle’s tea leaves on an unlucky day in Divination. Something looks back.

Word count: 1.5k

Content warning: none.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You’ve heard of the domino effect before, but never has it been so grimly demonstrated to you than in that exact moment standing in front of the entire Divination classroom with the only spare seat left opposite Tom bloody Riddle.

It started (or at least, as far as you can tell) an entire week earlier when you’d walked in on Ophelia Greengrass sobbing in the fourth-floor girl’s bathroom during second period. Up until then you’d not spoken more than half a dozen words to Ophelia across your entire time at Hogwarts, but it had felt wrong not to say anything – and as it turned out, Ophelia had been in dire need of someone saying something to her. She’d been dating Lestrange for a little over three months and by the sounds of it things were not going well.

So of course you’d comforted her as best you could but it was hardly surprising when she tentatively approached again you the next day, and the next, and the next, and then every single day for an entire week there had been a new horror story until yesterday you’d finally had enough and told her that she should break up with him.

That, of course, was why he’d confronted you in the corridor that morning on the way to Charms, angrily accusing you of losing him his girlfriend. And that was why you and Lestrange had been caught by Peeves with a watering can full of Bulbadox juice brandished gleefully in his spindly hands.

Which was how you both ended up in the hospital wing for the entirety of first period, Lestrange with boils all over his face and down his back, and you with them on your hands from where you’d managed to shield yourself.

You’d left Lestrange behind complaining loudly as the matron peeled back his school shirt, sprinting all the way up to the Divination tower at breakneck speed, throwing the trapdoor to the classroom open and scrambling inside, the trapdoor falling shut behind you, the very final domino.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor,” you gasp as you spin around to face her. “Peeves caught me and Lestrange!”

The class snickers.

“That’s quite alright, quite alright…” Cassandra Trelawney says, deep and ringing, “we have not yet started, take a seat with Mr Riddle and we shall begin…”

You freeze. Riddle…?

That’s when it hits you.

Lestrange always sat with Riddle in Divination.

And you’re so late that everyone else already has partners.

You turn to see Tom Riddle sitting at the back of the room looking at you with a polite but blank expression on his face. The class giggles again. The vast majority of Hogwarts students are at least somewhat in love with Riddle – beautiful, intelligent, polite Riddle, orphaned and poor but refined and successful. Better yet he barely speaks to anyone, leaving a lot of empty space of endless possibility for people to fill in with their personal daydreams.

He scares you.

Those horrible boys that hang around him remind you of flies hanging around rotting meat. And if they’re the flies, that makes Riddle…

You grit your teeth and step forward, weaving between the other tables and snickering students to take your seat, dropping your bag to the floor and eyeing the tea set on the small table apprehensively.

“Begin your readings!” Trelawney calls.

You frown and turn to Riddle questioningly. “We’re doing tea leaves?”

“Tasseography,” he corrects smoothly, leaning forward and picking up the burnished copper pot with one hand and pouring steaming tea into the little china cup in front of him.

You blink at him silently. There’s something manufactured about his face that you can’t put your finger on.

“Shall I go first or would you like to?” Riddle asks casually, pouring you a cup, too.

“I don’t mind,” you mumble, looking away.

Riddle sets the pot down and picks up his cup in long, elegant fingers, lifting it to his lips. “The instructions are on page seventy-nine,” he says after taking a sip, looking around the room disinterestedly.

You pull out your book and find the right chapter and scan the first few paragraphs as Riddle finishes his tea, sipping absently at your own, and by the time he finally hands you his cup your heart rate has finally returned to normal from running up eight flights of stairs.

“You have a scattered-type formation,” you say, checking it against the diagram on your page, “and it’s north-west oriented.”

“Mhmm,” Riddle says noncommittedly, his dark eyes level on the parchment before him as he takes notes.

You lean forward over Riddle’s cup and frown as you compare it to the pictures in the book. “That looks like shepherd’s crook,” you say, pointing to a cluster shaped like a pinched hook, “which means… either the responsibility to protect, or the exertion of power and authority over a group of people.”

Riddle scoffs very lightly, his lips curling into a slight smirk as he continues to write.

Something about it had clearly struck a chord with him, but you pointedly train your eyes back on your book. “Oh,” you frown, checking his cup again. “Or it’s the old glyph for seven.”

Riddle stops writing. You look up curiously at the sudden lack of his quill scratching evenly on his parchment to find him perfectly still, his eyes on your face. “Seven?” he repeats, tone distinct.

You nod and push your book around to show him. “The number seven used to be drawn like that, too.”

Riddle’s eyes drop to the page and linger there for a moment before he resumes taking his notes – though his expression is much more preoccupied than before.

But something in Riddle’s cup has caught your eye. Beside the shepherd’s crook/number seven is a lump of tea leaves so distinct in form that it’s almost comical – the round of the cranium, the square of a mandible, and gaps in the leaves to indicate two eye sockets.

“Oh,” you say in surprise, pulling your book back around. “Wow, that’s pretty clearly a…”

You trail off, frowning. You’ve noticed the tea leaves below it, the long twisting trail that leads directly into the skull’s mouth. A cold, creeping feeling is curling in your stomach as something about the image before you seems to move, you can almost see the thing writhing, it almost looks like a…

“How are we going?” Trelawney asks, suddenly right beside you.

You jump, looking up at her in panic. “Fine,” you say quickly.

She lifts her brows, assessing you thoughtfully. “Hmm,” she says, before glancing at Riddle. “And you?”

“Fine,” Riddle echoes smoothly. But he’s not looking at Trelawney.

He’s looking at you.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The image worms into your thoughts like a deep root, twisting into places you don’t expect to find it and spreading itself out more and more. The dreams are first, and then the nightmares, and finally the night terrors. The skull hovers before you, its pitch, hollow eyes bore into you, the snake coiling endlessly with its fangs yawning wide.

Something about it is cold and evil, some sort of strange perversion of an ouroboros, the eternal snake broken by the skull’s mouth.

Consuming it.

“What is that?”

Your head snaps up from your parchment feeling like you’ve just been jolted awake from a deep sleep, and it takes you a second to process the sight of Tom Riddle before you, his eyes fixed attentively on the parchment strewn on top of the essay you’re supposed to be writing.

He’d caught you drawing it for the hundredth time.

“Nothing,” you say hastily, sliding it away under a book. “Just a doodle.”

Riddle’s eyes flick to yours. There’s a cold rigidity to his expression that you don’t like. It’s a coldness that feels horribly familiar.

For a moment you almost think he’s going to force you to show him, but after a long moment Riddle looks away and he’s gone, disappearing off further into the library. You exhale in relief and pull out the parchment again.

Drawing it made the thoughts go away for a bit, like manifesting the horrible thing distracted it from its need to live in your head. You lift your quill and carefully write a single word next to the skull.

Consume.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The parchment goes missing the next day.

You never prove that he took it, never even mention it to him, but Riddle’s eyes have a cold glimmer to them when he catches your eye in Divination next, the smallest curl to his lips like he’s daring you to bring it up.

The dreams abruptly stop.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

When you see it next, it’s in a photo on the front page of the Daily Prophet beneath a terrified headline, a spectre hovering just like it had in your nightmares at school years prior. Except this time it’s real. This time it’s above the burning remains of the family home of a prominent Muggle-born politician and Voldemort’s name is a shadow on everyone’s lips.

You stare at it on the page, the snake writhing in ink, the black, hollow eyes of the skull, and you think about Tom Riddle’s cold smile watching you from across the classroom, his manufactured beauty, the boys that hung around him like flies around rotten meat.

He’s named it the Dark Mark.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Promotion: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader

synopsis: You don't ever make it to the convention. At all.

wc: 2.4k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

"Hey, y/n, are you coming out to lunch with us?" You turn your chair around to face your co-workers, all of them gathering their things to leave for the day. A half-day, right.

You'd completely forgotten about the half-day your boss offered as a reward for meeting every single editing deadline for a month straight. And now you were knee-deep in a manuscript, your mind completely focused on the task on the computer in front of you.

"I think I'll stay here and work on this for a little while. You all enjoy yourselves!" Your co-workers wave goodbye, chattering about their weekend plans as you turn back around, shifting the feedback sheet from your desk and onto the printer.

You dive back into your work - frowning as you come across a massive plot hole - the door to your boss's office flies open. You jump a little, startled by the sudden movement, and watch Nanami Kento adjust his clear frames before sliding them back on his handsome face.

"Y/n, could I speak to you for a moment? I'm sorry to interrupt your workflow, but this is urgent," he begins, and you stand from your desk, saving the work you've done before walking into his office. As you take a seat in the only other chair in the room, you cross your legs at the ankle, waiting for Nanami to take his place at his desk.

"Did you not want to take the half-day?" The blonde man wonders, sitting in his chair and unbuttoning his jacket.

"No, I really want to get as much work done as possible before the weekend."

"Big plans?" His brow lifts, and you inhale sharply, wondering what he's implying.

"No," you admit, looking down at your fingers and feeling your cheeks heat up. "I like to rest on my days off, is all."

"I won't keep you long, then. One of our managing editors - Hisoka - is leaving at the end of next week. You've been working very hard on making sure manuscripts are done right, clients are satisfied, and book deals go smoothly that I was wondering if you'd be willing to accept her position and her spot at the conference next week." A promotion? And a spot a the Editor's Conference?

"Sir, I'm flattered by your consideration--"

"Then it's done. I'll send over the paperwork on Monday morning, and I'll make sure you're settled in your new position by Friday." Nanami begins typing at his computer, and you stare at him, open-mouthed. "What's wrong?"

"I mean, this is all so sudden, I..." you trail off as Nanami frowns at you, his confusion evident. "Thank you, sir."

"You're the most qualified for the position, so I think you'll do just fine." He smiles as you stand to leave, giving him a slight bow.

"I'll do my best."

_____________________________________________________________

You shift nervously as the taxi takes both you and your boss from the train station to your hotel, where you hope the assistant booked you a decent room so you can get some rest before the big day tomorrow. Nanami is checking his phone, reading through emails before the taxi stops, letting you both out on the sidewalk in front of the ritzy hotel in the moonlight.

"I'll check-in for both of us," Nanami murmurs, and you go to sit in the lobby area while he speaks with the receptionist. Before long, you can hear a slight disagreement break out, and you turn your head to watch your boss approach you slowly, head bowed a little.

"What's wrong?" you wonder, clutching your bag close.

"Takada booked us only one room instead of two. I think she might have gotten the idea that since Hisoka left, that I would just be going."

"Well," you begin, standing. "Surely we can get another room."

"There isn't any room," he mutters, rubbing his eyes. "All of the hotels in the area are booked." You deflate, wondering what to do next. Nanami watches you carefully, picking up his briefcase before you reply,

"Well, I guess we have no choice, then."

He escorts you up to the elevator and swipes his keycard, pressing the highest floor before clearing his throat. You feel sweat pooling under your arms as you think about possibly sharing a bed with your boss. Yes, he's handsome as hell. But... sleeping in the same bed as a co-worker is... wrong. Right?

When the door to the suite opens, you look around at the lavish furnishings and beautiful view it affords you.

"I'll take the couch," Nanami announces, sighing as he drops his luggage beside the less than appealing couch.

"It looks uncomfortable," you state, and he takes off his glasses.

"I'm not going to assume you're comfortable with me sharing a bed with you, so I'm offering it to you by default."

"I'm sure we can both fit," you offer, and he glances up at you curiously. "Don't worry, it'll be fine." Nanami thinks for a moment, then moves his things into the bedroom, placing them on the other side of the king-sized bed. "And I promise I won't tell anyone," you tease, but he just gives you a blank look that makes you look away, cringing internally. Cool it with the jokes, you tell yourself.

As Nanami takes a shower, you pull out the various items you have to sleep in, groaning at your selection. There were only short, frilly things, instead of what you normally brought - baggy t-shirts and sweatpants. Why did you choose to bring these of all things?

Grumbling, you walk over to the mini-fridge and pull out a small bottle of Moët, tossing it back for courage. You feel the champagne hit your system moments later- and you wonder how you made it through college at this point.

The sound of the shower shutting off makes you squeak, and you throw on the silk slip before climbing into bed and facing away from the bathroom door. When Nanami emerges, you hear him shift around before climbing under the sheets, and muttering,

"Good night, y/n."

"Good night, sir."

_____________________________________________________________

Your arm is on someone's chest when you awake. You moan, lifting your head and coming face to face with your boss - who is already awake.

"Oh!" you shift off of Nanami, heart beating wildly. "I am so sorry, sir, I--"

"No, it's fine," Nanami chuckles. "It's not every morning that I wake up with a beautiful woman in my bed. Or have her talk about me in her sleep."

"Huh?" you stop, feeling your stomach drop.

"You said some... interesting things about me while you were asleep. If I had known you were a sleeptalker, I would have--"

"What did I say?" you whisper, frightened.

"Oh, nothing," Nanami chuckles, getting out of the bed and stretching. "Just something about how you found me good-looking and how you wanted to--"

You look away from him, rubbing your face in embarrassment. "I am so, so sorry, Mr. Nanami, it must have been the Moët I had before bed."

"Oh, I'm not upset. I just wish you would've said something sooner, y/n." You turn back to him, your eyes widening. "I find you attractive, too. But I had to be sure you weren't just dreaming before I said anything to you." He climbs back onto the bed, touching your face with a tender hand.

You instinctively lean into his palm, and he tilts your chin up, leaning forward. His lips ghost over yours before pressing against your cheek, and you moan. "Is this okay?" Nanami wonders, and you nod, feeling goosebumps run across your skin.

"Yes," you reply, and he leans forward again. This time, he kisses you gently, hands drifting from your face to your hips, where they play with the edges of your slip.

"Do you know how hard it was to sleep with you next to me?" he breathes, kissing down your neck. "Your beautiful hands fluttering from my face to my chest..." He cups your breasts over your slip and thumbs your nipples repeatedly, making you shudder.

"Nanami..." you exhale, and he removes one of the spaghetti straps of your slip slowly. "Sir, I--" He stops, replacing your strap quickly.

"I'm sorry, I'm not supposed to do this," The blonde man shakes his head, closing his eyes. Your breath hitches, but he doesn't move away from you, still. "I shouldn't--"

"Please," you interrupt him, grabbing his wrist. "Please." At your appeals, his lips crash into yours again and you tangle your fingers into his hair.

"Tell me when you want to stop," he urges you, hands running up your slip and gripping your bare thighs. But you allow him to lay you across the bed, tongues tangling as he undresses you with care.

"I need you," you breathe, and Nanami hums in response.

"We'll be late to the conference," he notes, but you shake your head. "We might not even make it the first day." But he makes no move to stop, again, rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. "You alright with that?" The only thing you can do is moan as your body writhes underneath his grip, his hands orchestrating the symphonic melodies coming from your throat.

Nanami blinks slowly, leaning down to capture one of the buds between his lips. He sucks and pulls with precision, and your mind goes blank, not even registering that the color of the ceiling. All you know are the sensations you're feeling right now.

"How do you feel?" Nanami wonders, a hand sliding down to your core. As his fingers slide between your folds, you whisper,

"It feels good." He presses a finger into you before adding another, hovering above you as he strokes your g-spot.

"You're so beautiful," Nanami moans, eyes roaming over your exposed body as he drives you to madness, adding his thumb on your clit. You want to let go, you want to cum, but the fear of your boss seeing you in this way is just-- "It's okay," Nanami whispers, pressing his lips to your ear. "I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Oh my god," you shudder, his fingers being coated with your slick and cum liberally. Nanami croons at the way your hips jerk into his palm while you squirt all over his hand. You pant heavily once it's over, and he removes his shirt, revealing a body you've only dreamed about. His muscles are just as defined as you thought, and as he removes his pants dutifully, you watch his thick cock spring free.

"Can I?" he wonders, pumping his cock with his slick covered hand. You spread your legs a little more, inviting him to fuck you just like you've wanted for so long.

All those days he walked by your desk with his sleeves pushed up around his arms... all those times he stopped to speak with you about your day... and all those times you watched him give a presentation, imaging his lips rolling across your skin during the meetings... You would faint if you knew just how close you could get to him in one morning.

As Nanami sinks into you, you exhale deeply, and he grips your leg, leaning down and pressing himself onto you carefully. Your arm winds around his back and he stares at you as he pumps into you, his warm breath caressing your face. "Is that good?"

"So good," you whine, curling your nails into his skin. "Nanami, I--"

"Kento," the man whispers against your skin. "Please, call me Kento."

"Kento," you instantly moan, and he presses a kiss to your throat, picking up his speed. His free hand snakes behind your back, lifting you up a little as he fucks you. His breathing becomes ragged as his cock strokes your insides, pulling sounds out of you that you never considered being in your lexicon.

The smacking sounds and wetness between your thighs are enough to bring you to the edge, but Nanami slows his strokes, making them long and deep. Your orgasm abates, but you don't mind. Being beholden to Nanami is heaven.

"I'm going to make you feel some things," he warns, and you open your mouth to reply, but he continues. "You might not like being edged, but I want you to feel this next orgasm in your soul." Edged? He picks up his speed once more, knocking the thought right out of your head as you're jostled back and forth on the sheets. You can't really think rationally, anyways. Why bother?

"Mmmm," you grunt, face scrunching together as you feel another orgasm building again. And you think maybe he'll let you cum, but he slows down again, sweat dripping from his face onto your chest. "Kento, I can't take it!" you pant, but your boss nods.

"Just one more, y/n." You oblige, toes curling painfully as he quickens his thrusts and pulls you up and leans back, pumping into you from below. The sensation is remarkably different, you note, and his dick curves into you perfectly as he continues thrusting. You gasp, fingers curling into his shoulders as you feel the same orgasm building. "Ken--"

He slows down again, and you cry out, thighs quivering with the need for release. "Hold on to me," Nanami breathes, smoothing his hands down your arms and taking your fingers in his. "I'm going to let you cum this time." You tuck your face in between the crook of his neck and shoulder, moaning obscenely as he fucks you back to the brink of insanity. But this time, when your thighs clench and your hips stiffen, he keeps going, squeezing your hands carefully.

"Kento, oh my fucking god," you shout, losing yourself in the intensity of the orgasm. You might have blacked out if it wasn't for Nanami holding you against him and his hips stuttering violently as he came inside of you.

"That's it," your boss moans loudly. "That's my girl..." You're so overwhelmed that you don't register where he stops and where you begin. Everything is hazy, and you wonder if this is what it's like to be fuck drunk. You feel something being pulled over you and the way Kento holds you close, whispering sweet nothings to you as you try to keep awake, but your whole body surrenders to the finality of the moment, to the peace, and you fall asleep in his arms.

[binniesthighs]

➵ changbin, son of ares ➵

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x seo changbin

Genre: that good good smut n’ a lil fluff, pwp 

Word count: 1.6k 

demigod skz mini-masterlist coming soon

{see below for nsfw tags and warnings!} 

Tags: demigod au, inspired by PJO, sonofares!changbin, hardsub!changbin, tattooed!bin, explicit language, mentions of battle scars, nipple play (r), mild knife play (no blo*od) (m), lil bit of hand focused oral fixation, marking and spanking (r), oral (69), unprotected sex (stay safe lovelies!), creampie, cockwarming

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Fire and fury, scalding hot, fingers biting into the delicate insides of palms. He is passion in the form of white heat that buzzes in your head and glistens with sweat between your shoulder blades. His eyes are gilded in flecks of gold that flicker like the flames which writhe under his skin. By contrast, his lips are soft and plush like the way rose petals crinkle. 

He is never cold, and he never falters where he imbues his body into yours with darkened eyes that can see you inside and out until there is nothing left to hide. 

He’s told you that the anger that boils inside him is nothing for you to fear: passion and infatuation are just other emotions which we all feel as intensely as fury. 

Still, he’s immense: a show of force that makes you feel small and insignificant even though you know that you are nothing of the such to him. He holds you to his chest, letting you feel the pound of his furious heart that resounds and quickens when he pulls you in even closer, stretching out your limbs until they too burn. 

The kisses he bites into your skin sink in like he can scald the very words there himself, “I’m just as much yours as you are mine.” 

Your loyalty to him is the greatest gift--it is an honor to be by his side so fully knowing that the bend and arch of your back follows the trace of only his hand. You feel honored to have those golden and deep crimson eyes outline your frame. He bears his weight down lower, pressing into you until you gasp under him: your passion for him journeys over every twist of his muscled arms and chest that swells with strength. The illustrations of wars once fought and the symbols of his father rage war on his skin in thick strokes of ink. Your hands tell their stories where you leave no space untouched. 

The scars that tatter his skin are more visible in the moonlight: places where his fury has leaked out and healed unevenly. Your fingertips know them well: how they feel like vulnerable little corners where the pieces of him don’t add up. Your lips find the curves of scars on his ribs and stretch around his arms as if you could heal him even more. By comparison, your skin is nearly spotless, and he too brings his lips to caress into the nape of your neck and down your arms all the way to your palms where he presses his passion there too. His hands are rough and calloused, but they still feel light as flames where he grazes the skin between your thighs. 

“Let me see you.” He asks, laying down in the middle of the bed larger for just the two of you. The windows creak with the sound of the breeze, which then gather up the linens that bow along with the air. It wafts in and sends shivers down your arms. Intertwined with the air is the smell of smoke carried from afar; it is the scent of the night before battle and restless fires that wait distantly for him. The thought itself is distant: you wrap your legs around his waist to prowl over your lover who cranes your neck and guides your waist to hover over him. 

Desire had never left his eyes: it's a type of insatiable fire that ravishes you and follows the way that you let your fingers creep to his bottom lip which you pull at, kissing him, letting the taste of your skin linger between your lips and his. He smirks, digging more roughly into the squishy parts of your hips to melt you into him. You grasp at the wooden handle attached to the leather sheath at his hip, drawing out slowly the curved metal knife which he keeps ready. The pure silver metal of the blade glistens in the moonglow, reflecting the image of your looming figure which brings it tickling up his skin. The sharpened edge draws a thin white line up his chest where you outline the space between his pectorals where he heaves in feeling the cold bite. You trace around his collarbones, threatening the pumping vein on his neck. 

“You could kill me if you wanted.” He laughs out with a confident air, “You know that only you’ve got that power.” 

You smile wickedly in response, pressing the tip of the blade in harder. Just a bit more pressure and you could draw blood, but you don’t. 

“I know.” You tease the blade back down his body, feeling the cold on your stomach too. “Only I’ve got the pleasure.” 

You cast away the knife sending it clattering to the floor, finding your hand hungrier than the blade. His arms wrap around you as if he can unfold you, and the heat from his skin marries with your own that trembles. Every inch of your being craves to drip in the fury and passion that consumes him, to make the one man unconquered by anyone weak to you. 

You grind your hips hard, languidly taking in the way that his cock swells between your legs no more desperate than you are. His kisses find their way down your chest, leading heavy breaths to your nipples which he pulls at gently with his teeth--only at first--only growing in intensity the shallower he hears your breaths inhale. He moves his focus for only a few moments to suck harder at your untainted skin to place marks and battle scars of your own which tell stories of him. 

“Are you going to fuck me, or keep me waiting?” He hushes directly into your ear. 

You meet his eyes in their spectral glow: it's a color that you could never recreate, unlike any other creation of the gods. 

“And you?” You pull lightly at his bottom lip with your teeth lavishing in the groan that it elicits from his throat. “I’m waiting too.” Your hand creeps down his torso to unfasten the button of his pants. 

Incessant fingers meet in the middle where bodies curve and reposition, knees sinking into the feathered mattress that wrinkle with the soft touch of satin. His girth swells pink with the veins outlining and pulsating where your hand wraps, tongue dripping with saliva to his tip which flares until you lean in to give him what he craves. Your body shakes after he pulls your hips closer to his own heated mouth. 

Your lover gives you no time to wait, pressing his tongue against your sensitivity and promptly tasting your essence on the tip of his tongue that teases. His fingers bury into your legs to pull them farther apart, burning the skin when he raises his hand to hear the way that your skin sounds. 

You take him in until you can no deeper, swallowing his length with the moans that vibrate the deepest parts of your throat and make him growl with pleasure. Whimpers fill up your chest as your body surrenders to the way that he chooses to lap slowly at your sex, pressing in an evil grin. 

“I could do this to you all night…” He promises, pressing sloppy kisses over your heat. 

You wince, feeling the contrast of his blazing warmth to the cool breeze of the evening that is nearly enough to dizzy you. You know that he’d let you do whatever you want, even letting your impatience get the best of you. You flip back around, facing him, tangling your fingers deeply into his onyx-black hair, finding your mouth smashing against his and gasping with every bit of your want directly into his mouth so he can feel it. 

In seconds, you align yourself over his cock until you feel so full that it makes your insides burn with a pleasure so indescribable you’re convinced that your own being must be possessed with some kind of crazed desire. 

He coolly looks up to you, only exhaling once you begin to move your hips, finally moving his hands down your sides to help you rock. Your lover brings his thumb to your lip, rubbing away at the way that it trembles in your focus, dipping the digit in to swipe over your tongue. 

“I know you can fuck me harder than that, my love.” He tests, ringing the sound of another slap to your skin through the room. “Harder.” He demands, and you flick your waist even rougher, losing your breath as the fire spreads through each of your limbs. 

Your vision blurs trying to make out his features: the tattoos that paint nearly his whole form, the vertical scar over his eye which spits his face into a rugged and intimidating picture of the wars which he runs into so fearlessly. To others, they would see him as a monster, but you could never imagine it: not like this, and not for you. 

Your frail form threatens to break, and you find the tears of pleasure and pain mixing on your cheeks which he wipes away gently, then taking up your cheeks in his hands to kiss at the stains. 

Sweat condensates behind your neck, and your arms feel weak from merely holding yourself up above him, yet your energy still doesn’t falter. He bites at his lip in his pride, seeing exactly the way that you fall apart. You cum for him, loud and indulgently, nearly screaming from how your whole body explodes, then grows numb and placid as you put the world back together. Your lover turns into a madman in his determination: his touch nearly rips you apart. He fills you, pulsing with his seed that drips down your legs white. 

You gasp as if you’ve forgotten what it means to breathe, collapsing upon him to feel the warmth of his embrace which you’ve long been addicted to. 

Carefully his hand trails up and down your spine to calm you while the two of you connect for moments that carry on forever, pledging, “You are the only one I am powerless to, my love.” 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @iwanttobangchan @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

[sleepdeprivedsloth]

Wrong Answer

[MHA - Bakugou, Kirishima]

summary: Kirishima is struggling with math and asks Bakugou to help him study for an upcoming test. Unique tutoring methods are introduced, leading to some interesting discoveries between the two friends. (platonic KiriBaku tickle fic)

potential warnings: swearing, tickling

words: 1.7 k

a/n: here’s another mha fic because i’m obsessed :D if you couldn’t already tell i freaking love bakugou lmfao i promise my next fic will be for a different fandom but anyways please enjoy!

--

“How did I allow myself to be associated with an absolute idiot?” Bakugou asked aloud, fondly shaking his head.

Kirishima gave out an awkward laugh, embarrassedly rubbing his hand against the nape of his neck. “Sorry man, I seriously thought math was supposed to be about numbers. I genuinely don’t understand where all these letters are coming from.”

The two boys were seated on top of Kirishima’s bed, facing towards one another, with their notes and homework assignments scattered across the blankets. It had been the redhead’s idea to work on their homework together, knowing that he would be needing Bakugou’s help.

“This is just a review on the Pythagorean Theorem, Shitty Hair. You should’ve learned it three weeks ago instead of waiting until two days before the test!” Bakugou exasperatedly exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air to further emphasize his half-hearted frustration.

The blonde watched as Kirishima’s sheepish expression quickly turned into a look of distress, cringing slightly as he asked, “Wait… we’re having a test on the Python Theory?”

Bakugou facepalmed, dragging his hand slowly down the length of his face. “Oh fucking well. I’ve done all I could. At this point, you’re a lost cause.”

“C’mon Bakubro, I don’t need you to make me feel any more dumb than I already am! A little crash course is all I need, just please tutor me!” Kirishima pleaded, looking desperately into his friend’s eyes.

“You know what…” Bakugou started, an almost-evil smirk growing across his face. “I do have this one study method that I’ve been meaning to try out on someone.”

Kirishima beamed, oblivious to the suspiciously eager look on Bakugou’s face. “Oh that’s perfect, bro! You get to test out your new method and I can study for our math test, a manly win-win situation! So how does the method work?”

Repressing most of his excitement as to not reveal his true intentions, Bakugou explained, “It’s pretty simple really. I just have to ask you questions and then you gotta answer them. Here’s the twist though: instead of being praised or rewarded when you get the answers right, you get a little punishment if you answer them wrong.”

“Wait wait wait, hold on a second,” Kirishima butt in. “What do you mean ‘punishment?’ Are we talking like giving me a thumbs down, o-or like torture, or-”

“I wouldn’t hurt you, Shitty Hair, no matter how much of an idiot you are,” Bakugou quickly reassured.

Kirishima let out a sigh of relief. “Whew, thank god! You had me a little worried for a second there, man.”

“Don’t stress out over this, it’s just studying,” Bakugou said with a grin that implied that the pair were going to do more than just study. “All you have to do is answer correctly. Ready, dumbass?”

Kirishima gave the blonde two thumbs up, smiling warmly. “Ready as I’ll ever be! Hit me with it!”

“Good,” Bakugou smirked. “First question: what’s the formula of the Pythagorean Theorem? You’ve got five seconds, Shitty Hair.” 

“Five seconds?! Dude that’s not enough- WOAH!” Kirishima had started to object when suddenly Bakugou lunged at him, knocking the redhead down onto his back. Before he could fully process what was happening, Kirishima was being straddled just below the waist and his hands were pinned underneath Bakugou’s knees. The brief struggle made a complete mess of their papers and pencils, some even falling down to the floor. “Uhh.. Bakubro? I mean this in the friendliest way possible, but what the actual hell, man??"

Bakugou rested his hands on Kirishima’s sides, causing his friend to stiffen slightly. “What’s the formula of the Pythagorean Theorem? If your dumbass answers incorrectly, or doesn’t answer at all within the next five goddamn seconds, you’re gonna get punished,” he repeated, giving a small squeeze to emphasize his intentions.

Kirishima’s eyes widened in realization, a shaky smile coming across his face as he attempted to backtrack. “O-oh, I was actually just thinking that we should definitely try another method? Maybe we could- AAHahaha nohohoho!!”

“Wrong answer, Kiri,” Bakugou replied bluntly, starting to lightly wiggle his fingers along Kirishima’s sides, just enough to keep him squirming and giggling. “Why try another method when this one is working so well? Answer.”

Kirishima couldn’t help but tug on his hands, writhe from side to side, squeeze his eyes shut tight, anything that could possibly alleviate the soft, tickly sensations. Unfortunately, his attempts were only in vain. “Ihihihihi dohohon’t knohohohow! Thihihihis is wh-hihi-y Ihihihi need tuhuhutoring!”

“Alright dumbass, I’ll help you out a little. Just repeat after me…” Bakugou offered, showing a small bit of mercy towards his clueless friend. It wasn’t exactly a fair fight if Kirishima had no idea how to answer the questions; that’s why Bakugou was helping him in the first place after all. Without pausing his fluttering fingers, the blonde recited, “A squared plus B squared equals C squared.”

“Ihihi cahahan’t- EEHEHEHAHA” Bakugou dug his fingers into Kirishima’s sides in warning. “OKAHAHAhay okahay! A-hahahaha squahared pluhuhus B-hehe squahahared ehequals C-hihihi squahahared!”

“Nice job, Shitty Hair,” Bakugou momentarily ceased his tickling, giving Kirishima a chance to catch his breath. “Second question: can the Pythagorean Theorem be used on all types of triangles?”

Lucky for Kirishima, he had actually paid attention to that part of the lesson in class. With small, residue giggles getting mixed in with his words, he proudly answered, “Nohope, only rihight triahangles!”

“Correct. About time you started getting some of these shitty answers right,” Bakugou mocked playfully before a predatory glint filled his eyes. “Third question: where’s your worst spot?”

Kirishima’s head shot up and he immediately locked eyes with his friend, shaking his head pleadingly. “No noho no, I cahan’t!” Anxious titters slipped out of his mouth as he tried to bargain. “I-I’ll tell yohou my second wohorst spot, it’s rihight below my behehelly button!”

Bakugou wasted no time in slipping both hands underneath Kirishima’s shirt and moving them to his lower stomach. Forming miniature claws, he started vibrating his fingers deep into the sensitive flesh. Uncontrollable laughter spilled out between Kirishima’s pointed teeth, but Bakugou wasn’t satisfied yet. “I don’t want your second worst spot. Fucking answer the damn question, or I won’t ever stop~”

His head fell back to look up at the ceiling instead of Bakugou’s piercing gaze. Kirishima put as much strength as he could into trying to buck the hands off of his torso, but the redhead quickly came to the realization that there was no way out. If he didn’t answer, there was no doubt that Bakugou would keep tickling him until he died of laughter. Blushing at the thought, Kirishima surrendered, “RIHIHIHIHIHIHIBS! IHIHIHIT’S MY RIHIHIHIBS!!”

“Perfect.” Bakugou instantly slithered his hands further up until they reached the dreaded spot. He gently massaged his thumbs into Kirishima’s ribs, not hard enough to hurt, but with just the right amount of pressure that got his friend squirming hopelessly from left to right. “Damn, these guys are pretty sensitive, aren’t they?” Bakugou teased fondly.

“YEHEHEHEHES! IHIHIHIHIT TIHIHIHICKLEHES!!” Kirishima confessed, screams of laughters flowing out of him before he could even think about resisting them. But then again, he didn’t really want to resist. Kirishima had to admit that it did feel good to let loose from the stress of school and just laugh freely. Those thoughts were immediately pushed to the back of his mind the instant Bakugou’s fingers scribbled against his second lowest ribs, a particularly weak spot on his ribcage. “NO NO NOHOHOHOHAHAHAHA! BAHAHAKUG-AAHAHA! NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE!”

Bakugou’s eyes practically gleamed with excitement as he honed in on the newfound spot. “Ohoho, what is this wonderful little spot I’ve found, Shitty Hair?” 

Kirishima was hysterically howling and shrieking, losing his mind to the sensations and barely able to form complete sentences. “PLEHEHEHEHEASE NOHOHO! IHIHI CAHAHAHAHAN’T!!”

The blonde slowed his fingers down, but drummed them against the second lowest rib to keep Kirishima wiggling and giggling. “Alright Kiri, final question: who’s the best tutor in all of UA? I’ll even give you a small hint: your dumbass better say that it’s me.”

Having more control over his mouth, Kirishima bravely teased, “Wohohow, suhuhuper suhubtle, Bahakubroho.” This earned his ribs a few ticklish pinches, causing the redhead to jolt and squeal before returning to his steady stream of chuckles.

“That loudass mouth of your’s is gonna get you into some serious trouble,” Bakugou lightly taunted. “Now spit out your fucking answer already!”

Through his giggle high, Kirishima quickly responded, “Yohohohou! Ihihihit’s youhuhuhu! Yohohou’re the behehest tuhutor to ehehever exihihihist!!”

Bakugou climbed off of Kirishima and helped him sit up before crawling back to his end of the bed. “Hell yeah I am, and don’t you ever forget it!”

Kirishima rubbed his hands along his ribs to get rid of the funny, tingling feeling that was left behind from the attack. “Geheez dude, I seriously dihidn’t take you ahahas the type to initiate a tihihickle fihight like that.”

Rolling his eyes as he started to pick back up their school work that was previously disregarded on the blankets, Bakugou retorted, “Oh please, this was just payback for what you and the other idiots did to me on my birthday. Karma’s a bitch like that.”

“Oh c’mon, man, there’s no need to lie. You and I both know that you loved it!”

Bakugou’s head quickly whipped around to look at Kirishima incredulously, eyes widened slightly. “No I didn’t, you ass! It was absolute torture and you’re honoestly lucky that I don’t hate you dumbasses for doing it.”

Keeping eye contact with his friend, Kirishima effortlessly came back with, “Dude, if you seriously thought it was torture, there is no doubt that you would have found a way to make us stop. Or, at the very least, you would’ve asked us to stop.”

Realization flashed across Bakugou’s face for a brief moment, accompanied by a light blush that Kirishima easily noticed. But in the blink of an eye, Bakugou’s defenses were put back up, as if they had never gone down in the first place. “Oh yeah? Then how come you didn’t ask me to stop the whole time I was tickling you just now? Explain that, Shitty Hair.”

A challenging smile spread across Kirishima’s lips. “I never said that I didn’t like it.”

--

a/n: ngl i had some troubles starting this fic, but let me tell you that when i finally got into it, everything just started coming together and now i love it! thanks for reading everyone <3