#i hope that lil pitch is good enough!

[ashtonisvibing]

no i haven't been forgetting to post this shh-

finished a colored sketch for @icedhotkopi of werewolf jackie!! and since she said it could be any version of jackie, i decided to use jackie from my normalcy au :3

and hey! you wanna see even more (and better) art like this?? go donate to @jsesketchmas if you can!!

[bbeoms]

rugby!simon headcanons

hello, my sports hyperfixation this summer is rugby union, thus here i present you my rugby player simon riley brainrot! decided to write it cause why not???? someone needed to bring this idea to life. i hope you enjoy <3

fluff, suggestive, slight hurt/comfort

- plays as a forward (more specifically, second row/lock) so he’s always there during a scrum!

- and as we know, forwards are usually huge men 🤭 so 6’4 117kg simon is the perfect candidate

- you have to restrain yourself every time he’s in his kit cause have you seen how tight their jerseys and shorts are?????

- you can’t help but stare at how the fabric hugs his pecs and how the sleeves are lowkey cutting off circulation to his arms cause of how large his biceps are (and the way his tattoos peek out from the sleeves? chefs kiss)

- hikes up his shorts when he knows you’re watching and smirks when he catches you staring at the thick muscle of his thighs

- avoids wearing his kit around you when you’re ovulating cause he’s not sure he can control himself with the way you eye him like you’re ready to pounce

- (he learned his lesson after that one time you went to a match when you were ovulating. simon didn’t think it was possible, but you managed to milk him dry after you guys went home that night 💀 the hormones made you too feral until you managed to make him tap out lmao)

- anyone else become possessed by a succubus during ovulation?,,,,,, just me?,,,,, okay,,,,

- doesn’t usually wear a scrum cap during his matches

- but there was a couple of times he had to wear it (per the doctors recommendation) to protect stitches he had near his ear

- “ohmygod si you look like the end of a pencil ✏️”

- sulked at your teasing, he didn’t want to wear it either 😭

- you cooed and proceeded to shower his face with lil kisses until he forgave you

- felt his heart melt when you squished your cheek to his and took a selfie, your smile wide as you laugh at the way his blond strands were cutely sticking out of the cap (and how he still, looked like the end of a pencil)

- made it his lockscreen immediately

- being a rugby girlfriend isn’t always fun and games though

- it’s an extremely physical and dangerous sport and although you’d like to think simon is invincible, he’s still human

- it’s hard to believe but there are quite a number of players that are taller and heavier than him (you can’t say they have the same skill set though, simon is really good at his job)

- there’s always an underlying feeling of anxiety every time you watch him play

- injuries are a given

- split skin, bleeding ears and broken bloody noses are some of the more tame injuries you’ve seen simon get.

- simon coos at your tears and furrowed eyebrows whenever you tend to his injuries during rest days

- you don’t like seeing your man hurt!!!! :(((

- (okay but it is pretty hot when he gets all bloody in the face like in the first picture like hello??? lemme jump on you)

- straddling his lap while wiping the dried blood off his eyebrow

- “gimme a kiss”

- being cheeky and steals a kiss on your lips after you ignore his request

- reassures you that he’s alright and reminds you that he’s had worse injuries

- you give him a glare, silently telling him to not remind you of that time you thought he died on the pitch

- simon got hit with a high tackle, the fucker that was attempting to tackle him had his shoulder straight into simon’s neck (the guy got a red card deservingly) knocking simon back and motionless on the pitch

- you watched in horror as multiple bodies pile on top of him, not noticing that simon was out cold

- soon enough, the team’s medics were on field and stretching him away for treatment

- simon still feels your gentle touch on his face that day, thumb rubbing his cheek willing him to be okay

- he still remembers the look on your face despite being concussed. distraught, dried tears staining your cheeks.

- you were so scared, you didn’t know how bad his concussion was and what the aftermath of such injury would entail.

- he’d never felt such tenderness before

- he couldn’t believe that someone cared about him that much, didn’t think that he would ever find someone to love him like you do

- whispers i love you for the first time in his dazed state

- decides at that point that he won’t let you go, and has become a simp ever since <3

left to right pics: david pocock, tariq sims, chris robshaw (<- he would lowkey make a good simon riley imo)

[stnexus]

a slip of the tongue…!

jason todd x fem!black!reader

MINORS DNI, NSFW, 18+

summary: stressful days and sleepless nights, jason has a remedy for that one. just don’t give him any attitude, that’s all he asks.

cw: minor little heated argument (reader literally just has a lil freak out moment), a few mentions of jason’s scars, reader is stressed, insomnia (?), reader thinks jason’s mad for a second but that gets cleared up quick, nsfw, squeaky bed frame(?), praise kink, overstimulation, dumbification, dacryphillia, oral (f!receiving), squirting, creampie, mating press, missionary, cowgirl, this one kinda sensual you guys (i need this man so bad. tonight…we FEAST.)

names used (?): baby, pretty, pretty girl, beautiful, beautiful girl, good girl, daddy (used in moderation you guys)

word count: 3.5k+ (yet i was struggling to write my 1.2k final essay. THIS IS 12 FUCKING PAGES.)

A slam of the front door was all that rang throughout the house, the pitch black darkness was like a cold greeting. One that you had gotten used to when you would come home from work late in the evening. With Jason on his patrol and the house void of  anyone else, you were left to your own devices. Something that you sometimes wish was not the case. 

Dropping your keys on to the side table of your Gotham apartment, you pushed your heels off and kicked them out of the way of the front door. Flipping the light switch up and to the on position soon after. As your bare feet connected with  the cold wood flooring of the apartment, it seemed to ground you just a bit. 

This week at work had been hell, your boss had been working you so much you felt like if you blinked within his line of sight he would scold you for goofing off. So here you were. Sore feet, skirt and blouse cladded body tired as ever. Stripping yourself of your clothes one by one you held the pile of clothing in your arms until you reached your room, gliding through it to the connected bathroom.

Dropping the clothing in the hamper in the bathroom, you glanced at yourself in the mirror above the sink. Your eyes were glazed over from your tiredness, your pretty brown skin was beginning to lack its glow, and the bags under your eyes were getting heavier by the minute. Stressed wasn’t even the word needed to explain your state of being. 

Another sigh fell from your lips, and a yawn followed soon after as you made your way to the shower. grabbing your pink bonnet off the sink where you had left it, you gathered your braids and tucked them into the bonnet, the band laying snug on your forehead. you hoped that the water that would soon come beating down against your skin could help you become less stressed. 

your shower was therapeutic, but not enough to fully ease your mind. no, what you needed and wanted was jason. you had missed him all day — knowing your home would be empty when you arrived home due to him needing to tend to important matters. as you climbed into bed, dressed in pajamas that consisted of an old shirt and shorts, the squeak of the old bed frame that needed to be replaced welcomed you. 

i need to remind jason to help me pick out another bed frame next weekend. your thoughts rang.

grabbing at his pillow on his side of the bed, you pulled it towards you. his scent seemingly pulls you out of the brain fog you were currently in, just slightly. but it is still not enough. soon you would realize even attempting to fall asleep was futile. even though your eyelids were heavy and begged for rest.

you tossed and turned for hours, huffing out a frustrated sigh many times into the dark bedroom. peeling your eyes open you peered at the alarm clock that read ten minutes to five in the morning. it dawned on you that it had been  almost six hours that you had been fighting to fall asleep.

shaking your head as you grumbled, you stretched your limbs as you pulled yourself from the bed. your bonnet slipped off in the process, but you paid it no attention. trudging out of the room to make way to the kitchen. grabbing a cup from the cupboard, you pulled the fridge open as you grabbed the bottle of juice and opened it. beginning to pour it, that's when you heard it—

it was the sound of familiar heavy boots hitting the wooden floors of your apartment. even though happiness played at the edge of your mind, your face barely portrayed it. you slightly jumped as your eyes met his own as he stood in the entrance of the kitchen. jason’s arrival was quiet, surely because he was confused about who was in your kitchen this time of morning. seeing as you were usually asleep.

“what’re you doing up, baby?” 

his question flowed through the air as he began to close the gap between you two. his helmet was nowhere to be seen, most likely tucked away somewhere in your apartment.

“couldn’t sleep,” your words came out rougher than you had intended. there was a beat of silence but it washed away as jason spoke again. his brows furrowed for a minute then relaxed as he rubbed a hand over his face, fingers running over his scars for a mere second. 

“so, before i forget, bruce wants the whole family to come over for dinner saturday,” he informed as he backed away slowly, sitting at your dinner table as he pulled off his boots. “said he’s not taking no for an answer.”

“jason, i don’t know—” you tried to inject, though he had not seemed to notice.

“i’m sure alfred will probably be cooking almost all day tomorrow, in preparation. everyone eats like they’ve never seen food before—”

“jason, fuck, i already have enough on my plate right now. my boss is up my ass every time i walk into the office. i’m up to my neck in paperwork, all because he decided to spontaneously lay off two of my coworkers. i haven’t been able to sleep one bit, even though i’m tired. on top of that, i have to work on saturday. i don’t have the time to worry about a fucking dinner at bruce’s house.”

the kitchen filled with silence as you stood in front of the fridge. jason’s eyes taking in your current state as he sat still after your outburst. your braids cascaded down your back, but the few that slipped over your shoulder to frame your face made him aware of the bags that began to form. you looked overwhelmed, stressed even. he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to realize at first — which usually doesn’t happen.

“…you do seem tired, baby. i’m sorry i didn’t notice,” jason broke the silence. “how about we go to the room, i know exactly what you need to get to sleep.” 

“no, jay i’m sorry– ”

“it’s nothing to be sorry for, baby. i’m not angry,” jason ensured as he stood and walked over to you. grabbing at your free hand and pulling you towards him, taking the cup of juice from your hand. your head laid on his chest momentarily. “how about you go to the room? clothes off for me by the time i get in there, pretty girl.”

the weakening bed frame squeaks once again as you drop onto the mattress, jason grabs onto your ankle and dragged you closer to him as he got on the bed soon after. grabbing softly at your face, he slightly squished your cheeks together as he leaned down towards you to plant a peck on your lips that drifted into a heated kiss. without words, he pulled away, placing slow, open-mouth kisses down your neck — one of his hands grabbing at one of your breasts as he tweaked and played at your nipple. 

you felt completely vulnerable with how he was completely dressed; having quickly showered in the guest bathroom to give you some space. jason had dressed in a simple black shirt and gray sweatpants. his scent flooding your senses

“ you feel so soft, baby,” jason complimented,  “ ‘could play with this pretty body all day, every day.”

his words pulled a moan from your lips. reaching out to brush your hand over his hair you let out a small gasp as his lips wrapped around the nipple he had just toyed with. your hand tightened just a little around his hair, a flurry of black and whitened strands peaking through your finger as your acrylics ran over his scalp. his tongue dragging soft circles around the hardened bud at that moment. pulling away after almost two minutes, jason placed a kiss right above your nipple — then repeated his earlier actions with your neglected nipple. 

“pretty fucking tits,” jason grunts, eyes darkening as he looks up at you with your nipple between his lip, “such a beautiful girl.” 

“shit— thank you, daddy,” you let out as his hand snaked between you two. pushing your thighs that parted to accommodate him apart even more. feeling his rough fingertips part your slick folds in a teasing manner, you whined for some sort of friction and lifted your hips at his actions. to which jason listened as he sat his palm right above your cunt, thumb dipping downward to rub tight and heavy-handed little circles over your clit. 

“ ‘s that feel good, pretty girl?” 

“y—yeah,” you stutter out. 

“you know all i wanna do is make you feel good, right?”

“yeah, you make me feel so good, jay”

“so the next time you feel overwhelmed,” jason began as he began to lay kisses down your torso, stopping just below your navel, “don’t bring that attitude to me. just talk to me, ‘ya understand?”

“yes, f—fuck, i’m sorry daddy,”

locking eyes with you, jason licked a long stripe over your cunt. his tongue caressing your attentive clit. he did it a few more times before wrapping his lips around your hardened bud, taking harsh sucks at it as if he were trying to pull an orgasm from you. 

“ ‘taste so fuckin’ good,” jason spoke as his eyelids became heavy with lust, “nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout baby.”

feeling his hands drag over your inner thighs your hips seemed to move on their own as you attempted to grind against him. only for jason to let out a moan around your clit, hands now close enough to feel a thick finger prodding at your slit. sliding in slowly as his eyes trained on your face. the drag of his finger in and out of you was mind numbing as he found your most vulnerable spot within mere seconds — feeling you clench around him in approval of his actions.

“ ‘you gonna cum all over daddy’s face?”

“yes…!”

your dragged-out and whined confession was followed by almost immediate proof. the walls of your cunt clench around jason as he adds a second finger, tongue still dragging over your clit. a sheen of your cream decorating his fingers as you came crashing down.

“that’s it, baby, let it out,” jason spoke as softly as he could. lapping at every bit of your essence he could take in as if he would be ripped away at any second. though, your release did not stop him. his fingers continued to work you open as he pulled his mouth away from your cunt. watching as you clenched around his fingers repeatedly from the lack of a break. adding a third finger, jason listened to the moan you squeaked out in response. 

he was so attentive towards you, so it had not  shocked him when you declared that you were on the verge of cumming yet again. instead, he buried his tongue between your folds once again. his tongue heavy and wide as he parted your cunt. licking and kissing at your clit as if he were making out without it. 

“j—jay don’t stop,” you begged as your hips chased after his tongue. 

“mhm,” he hummed in agreeance, the vibrations from his response knocking you over the edge. the last moan you drew out hitched in your throat and slowly progressed into a slight whine. your thighs closing around his head, to which jason used his free hand to open them once more.

“there you fucking go, good girl,” jason groaned out a praise, laying a single kiss on your clit before he sat up from his position on the bed. bending down towards you to plant a messy kiss on your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. as he pulled back you took in his disheveled look as he took in your somewhat dazed look from reaching your high twice. watching as he pulled his shirt off, you were greeted by the scar that spanned across his chest and abdomen.

“that was just two,” jason spoke, “i want to see you cum until you can’t think.” 

it was something you knew he would follow through with. especially when he laid you back down, spreading your legs once more as he tugged his sweats and boxers off in one go, getting you to wrap around his waist. with his knees digging into the mattress he slid his cock back and forth between your sticky folds, groaning as his tip met your clit and caused you to twitch due to sensitivity. wasting no time, he lined up his tip with your entrance. sliding in gently, he placed a hand between your breast, slightly pushing you into the mattress, while his other hand gripped your hip.

you could feel him filling you inch by inch, stretching you out as he pushed himself into you. your mouth slightly agape as he reached the hilt and left you with a moment to adjust.

“you’re so tight,” he slurred out, “ ‘thought i opened you up enough with my fingers, baby. loosen up for me.”

“i’m trying, jay— fuck, ‘feels like you’re in my stomach,” you replied in shaky voice. which only caused jason to grin in response. 

“you poor thing, you can take it. i know you can.” 

pulling his hips away from your own he swings them downward onto you, repeatedly. drawing — in his own words — the prettiest sound from your lips. his own moans and grunts slipped through at times, his sounds making you feel just as good as his actions. 

“oh shit, you feel so good daddy,” you swore as your fingers found a purchase wrapped around the hand pushing you into the mattress, the scars decorating them lying just beneath your fingertips. his strokes were sensual and deep — like he planned on driving you crazy. if he wanted you to think of nothing else but him he was definitely on the right track.

“yeah…? i want you to show me how good it feels. cum for me,” jason stated as his hand reach up at your cheeks, “you know what i want. let me see you cream all over me again.” 

“jason you’re so nasty,” you forced out as his hip persisted. you were growing a bit embarrassed at how you were squeezing at jason’s cock, his stamina surely helped him wade off his release. 

“i know you ain’t complaining,” he said with a huffed out laugh. a few swears falling from his lips as he pushed the feeling of wanting to cum far down his list of priorities.

“i—i’m not, shit, i’m cumming…!”

“cumming so good you’re trying to milk me i swear,” jason groaned out as he watched the layer of your sticky orgasm cover his cock, “fuck— not yet though, ‘gotta make sure i take all that stress away.”

it felt like he had already done so, with the way your mind became fuzzy as you surged through your third release. jason’s hips barely skipping a beat as he fucked you through it, prolonging the feeling of ecstasy. your words were starting to fail you as he pulled you down the mattress and stood to his full height at the foot of the bed. he raised one of your legs over his shoulder, the other following soon after as he pulled you into a mating press. 

grabbing at his forearms that he planted firmly on each side of you, you swore you could feel him everywhere as he pushed himself into you again. the feeling starting to become overwhelming as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. kissing at your brown cheeks he stilled for a moment as his eyes softened. 

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” jason spoke as his lips met yours again, “i’m so lucky to have such a hardworking, intelligent girl.”

amidst him praising you, he began to move. feeling as though he was trying to dig you out in the current position. 

“ ‘l—love you,” was all you seemed to let out as your words drifted off into useless babbling. his hips hitting the back of your thighs with each thrust as he planted a kiss on one of your legs.

“you know i love you too, baby.”

the room seemed to grow hotter as the bed frame below you squeaked at jason’s well paced thrusts. the little hair that began to grow in on his happy trail becoming covered in your slick as he rubbed against your clit with each thrust.

this time you were unable to even form the words to warn him of what was to come. you felt a tightness in your lower stomach that seemed to get worse with each movement from him. but this one felt different. the constant rubbing against your sensitive cunt in combination to him stretching you out was like he was trying to break you.

“that’s it, i know. i know, baby,” jason cooes as he reads your face, “all you need is to be fucked out. make a mess for me.”

you swore you saw stars as you gripped at jason’s arms. surely leaving impressions of your acrylics on his skin as you came. spurts of clear fluid bouncing off his abdomen as he continued to push himself in and out. 

“f—fuck, i need you to do that one more time.”

it was not long before you found yourself on top of him, bouncing as good as you could with how tired you were becoming. pushing his cock into your overly spent cunt, he had let you sink down at your own pace. it took everything in him to hold himself back but tonight was not about him. jason wanted to live up to his earlier statements: all he wants to do is make you feel good.

he watched as your bouncing started to become sloppy, your legs weak from the many times you had cum before. reaching his hands out, he intertwined his fingers with your own as he took in your fucked out state. 

“need me to help you, pretty girl?” 

“y—yes please,” 

that was all it took for him to pull you towards him. your head falling onto the white pillows beside his head, your face right next to his. taking a second to place your hands behind your back, he held your wrist together with one hand as he grabbed at your waist with the other. your knees stayed planted onto the mattress as he positioned himself. fucking up into you, his own hips pushing you up and down. the bedframe squealing under his continuous movements seemed to encourage him even more.

“ ‘treat me so good, daddy,” your whines were broken and tired. he was sure you would sleep nice and good when you two were done. but for now a chuckle left his mouth.

“you deserve it,” jason spoke in between his own breathy moans, “you work so hard, fuck—  yeaaa… squeeze me just like that. you are worth everything, baby.” 

the tears that had been playing at your eyes since he had you at the edge of the bed seemed to fall at the ringing of his words in your ears. feeling your heartbeat quicken and your stomach tighten you forced yourself to make sense through your nonsense rambling.

“ ‘wanna kiss, jay.” 

to which he didn’t complain. his hips never faltered as he turned his head towards you, connecting your lips once again. groaning as he felt you gripping around his cock as if he were attempting to leave your soaked cunt.

“want me to fill you up?” he questioned in between the kiss. a question you tried your best to answer but only forced out a mumble of mhm, yea. 

it didn’t take long, as you reached your peak, squirting once more as it dripped down jason’s balls. his lips were still on yours as his hips stuttered, moments later flooding your cunt with ropes of white cum. despite not looking down, you could feel his cum leaking from between your legs as you gushed around him. only for him to fuck back up into you a few more times before slowly pulled himself from your pussy.

“how do you feel, baby?” he questioned as he let your hands go. the hand that was on your waist moving to remove a braid from your vision as it had begun to slip as he adjusted himself under you. he had put his body flat against the mattress and allowed you too just lay on him in your fucked out state. 

“tired,” you replied as much as your worn out body would allow you. 

“how about we go pee, then when we get back we can both sleep all you want? i don’t have to handle patrol tomorrow, Dick’s got it covered.”

“mhm…i’d like that.”

“thought so. and don’t worry, i’ll handle that boss of yours, go ahead and call off for Saturday,” jason smiled fondly as he grabbed at your body. gearing up to pick you up and help you to the bathroom.

[garoujo]

!!nagi swears that kissing you before practice or a match gives him good luck!!<3<33

✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO ; — it seems the teams way to get nagi motivated has its drawbacks.

warnings: sfw! no warnings just nagi being the sweetest :3 note: hi nonnie!!! i decided to just write this lil thing cause i thought it was super cute so i hope u like it sob!!!

for the most part, it was beneficial when the team decided to start inviting you to their morning practice — as a means to motivate nagi, noticing that the usual sleepy, slacker of a striker seemed to have a little more motivation whenever he’d look over and see you in the stands.

but now.. actually getting him to come onto the pitch to play was a whole other problem entirely.

“hey, nagi! get on the field, jeez.. we’re still a goal behind, ultra genius.” you hear reo call from behind you, huffing when your boyfriend infront of you doesnt even seem to give him a second thought as he waves him off from over his shoulder. you think it’s amusing though, the pleading look his bestfriend gives you like he’s begging you to help him out.

nagi on the other hand, is currently leaning over the barrier at the stands — shooting you a starry-eyed look from under his messy bangs. his gloved hands fidget with the hem of your t-shirt and you feel them twitch tighter around the fabric every few moments, like an adorable little attempt to pull you closer as he sends you a pout.

“this is a pain, ‘ts in the way.” your boyfriend breathes as his longer limbs shift and fidget over the metal fence against him he’s referring to — surprisingly enough managing to support his weight as he leans against it, probably finding standing too bothersome given how long they’ve been practicing already.

but you give nagi an inch as you take a step closer, just enough to let his hands graze along your hips as he lets his head lean forward and rest on your chest. “you’re needed on the field, sei.” you try to reason as you push his snowy bangs away from his gaze, letting you take in the pretty, drowsy expression on his face when he blinks slowly up at you.

“eh, don’t wanna. wanna stay here.” another slow drawl and his fingers are squeezing at your skin, feeling him nuzzle deeper into your chest as he leans even further into you — making the barrier squeak slightly under his weight. you’re not sure it’s quite built to balance lazy 190cm strikers.

“but i wanna see you score more goals. we can get lemon tea before we go home.” it’s tempting, especially when you say it in that pretty little voice you know he loves. so you feel nagi’s head twist against you before he’s sending you a cute little look, cheek smooshed against you as he huffs.

“i’m sleepy though, i wanna have a bath and play video games with you instead. ‘ts no fair.”

“i’ll give you a kiss for every goal you score.” it’s quick, your reply — it doesn’t give him a moment to consider it because you know it’s a bargain he can’t pass up. only a few simple things could get nagi seishiro motivated and your kisses were right up there next to video games and well— that’s it.

“wan’ them now. need ‘em for a power up.” it’s hard to say no to him when he’s giving you that look, it’s sleepy and doe-eyed and there’s a soft glow that swims in the deep colour of his eyes that makes you smile before you’re scratching your hand through his hair. it makes your boyfriend shudder and he pulls you closer before you’re reminded of the time limit when reo sends you a wave followed by a grumpier sort of look.

“three goals for three kisses.” your words are rushed but they make nagi stand to full height just as quickly despite the way his arms remain around you — head leaning into the press of your palm when it cups his cheek.

“yay.” it’s soft, spoken under his breath when you push his hair from his features to peck him once on the lips, followed by another before he’s meeting you quickly for the last — urging it to be a little deeper than the other two as he pulls you into him. you hear him hum and you decide to give him a little extra motivation when you swipe your tongue between his lips, hearing a sweet whimper sound from him before he’s parting them for more — but just as quickly as it deepens, you pull away to grin.

“hey, why’d you pull away. wasn’t done yet.” nagi’s words are whinier now but there’s a soft flush on the tips of his ears and you think it’s cute just how easy it was to get him drowsy on kisses.

“it was just for good luck. three goals, sei. then you’ll get more!” you let your fingers scratch through his messy hair again as he groans, followed by a quick thumbs up to reo from over his shoulder before you’re pushing him lightly. he sways before he turns and you laugh at the next pout he sends you as his arms fall to sway by his side — his eyes still on you even as he makes his way back towards the team, although there’s something darker in his gaze now.

“eh, i guess. but it’s so bothersome, three goals is too easy.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[lewkwoodnco]

guardian angel - lockwood x reader

As a Visitor lingering in 35 Portland Row, you can’t help but worry over Lockwood and his reckless ways

He caught a familiar Visitor trying to wrench open a warm can of beer left on the kitchen table. So far, it seemed that she had only been successful in vigorously shaking it up. She had been too engrossed to notice Lockwood walking in, so she was just startled enough for him to swipe the can out of her barely-there grasp.

"Nice try. Maybe when you turn 18."

She groaned. She had been so close. "Technically speaking, I'm 87 years old."

"Technically speaking, you're dead."

a/n: might fuck around and make this a series idk idk also halfway through I realised the reader would be classified as a type three i think? but lockwood can’t talk to type threes so let’s just pretend she’s the only one he can talk to

tropes/warnings: angst, a lil fluff, slight slight hurt/comfort, descriptions of injury, visitor!reader

word count: 3.8k!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

Anthony Lockwood had one rule and one rule only when it came to psychical investigations - there was no such thing as a friendly Visitor. And for the most part, he abided by it. But every rule has its exception, and this one came in the form of a sharp-eyed Type Three not much older than himself.

On this particular evening, the trio had just returned from a particularly draining case. George padded down to the basement to put away their iron chains while Lucy headed for the kitchen to put the kettle on. Lockwood winced as he peeled his coat off, heavy with decades-old dust and soot. He shuffled into the nearly pitch-dark living room, visibly unwinding as he sank into his favourite armchair. But he knew better than to hope for some peace and quiet just yet. Almost immediately, the hair at the back of his neck prickled not uncomfortably as he cast his eyes around. The air shifted, and he looked up just in time to see a familiar face materialise.

“Butter-fingered Locky nicked himself?”

He smiled weakly, carefully pulling his shoes off with his good arm. A shallow gash ran through his left bicep where something had ripped through his coat and shirt. The Visitor fiddled with some trinkets on the mantle above the fireplace with a carefully crafted air of nonchalance, occasionally glancing at his face expectantly.

“Broken window. Some of the glass ripped through my coat.”

“Ooh. How dramatic,” she teased playfully. He reached for the first-aid kit on the coffee table, pulling out the disinfectant and bandages he needed one-handed. He tentatively dabbed at the wound, twisting his torso uncomfortably as he struggled to bandage it up.

“Shouldn’t you be getting someone else to do that for you?”

He looked up and arched an eyebrow. “Why? Are you offering your services?”

She grinned, her face creasing into a light-hearted expression he found oddly relieving. She opened her mouth to reply when the living room door creaked, and the warm light of the hallway flooded the living room. Lockwood jerked his head up as she flattened herself against the fireplace, much less opaque now. George was standing at the door, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the living room.

“How’s the arm?”

Lockwood grimaced, carefully checking how sore it was. “Could be worse.”

George nodded absent-mindedly, wandering towards some files haphazardly stacked on the coffee table. Lockwood turned back to see her watching his wound thoughtfully, a gentle frown marring her face.

"That’s got to hurt. I think. It's been a while since I…you know.”

"How did you die?" Lockwood asked in a low voice. Instantly, her concern evaporated. Her eyes darted towards George, pouring over those files only a few feet away from them, with mock severity. 

"Hmm. Pneumonia, I believe."

She batted her eyes at him coquettishly and, as was routine, vanished into thin air. She didn't like giving him straight answers in general, and never for that question. One day it would be typhoid, the next frostbite, and then the Plague, and so on. Still, maybe one day she’d blurt it out without thinking, and so Lockwood kept asking.

She had been haunting 35 Portland Row from before Lockwood's parents had moved in. As a child, before his Sight had fully developed, he always had an inkling that something was there, hiding in the shadows. She had watched his mother mark out his height on the wall year after year. She had watched him scrape his knee barrelling down the front porch steps when he was five. She had watched his father chase him around the front yard on Saturday mornings. She had watched him grieve the family stolen from him. She had watched him stumble around, figuring out what to do with himself, night after night.

And so began her little acts of kindness. It was only because she was bored, she had told herself. A flare burn on his coat mysteriously mended seemingly overnight. The kitchen table flowers never seemed to wilt despite his forgetful watering habits. The orange juice carton was always put away in the refrigerator, even on nights when he was too exhausted to remember if he did. She had never meant to get this emotionally invested. Eventually, when he started noticing things were rarely where he had left them, he began to pick up more on her presence.

The first time she had materialised in front of him was when a 14-year-old Lockwood had yelled into the abyss that was an empty 35 Portland Row in the middle of the night, threatening to snuff her out for good if she didn't show herself. However, as far as 14-year-old boys went, Lockwood was not particularly menacing, so it was more pitiful than frightening. 

Still, the Problem had been relatively new when she had kicked the bucket, and she was nothing if not curious to a fault. He hadn't seemed to have expected her to actually show up, given the deer-in-headlights look on his face when his nervous brown eyes met her shining, lifeless ones. She had an inkling that the threat had been an empty one, because as much as he pretended otherwise, Anthony Lockwood never hurt anyone or anything as long as he could help it.

“I don’t understand,” he had whispered, looking terribly vexed, a strain to his pale features. “I’ve never felt any malaise from you. I don’t even feel it now. How could you -?”

She had shrugged. Her guess was as good as his. Probably worse, since she hadn’t had access to half of the numerous books written about the Problem in her time. 

After the first time she had materialised, he had resolved to find her Source and end the whole affair. But as their friendship blossomed, his resolve weakened, until eventually he decided it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to let a harmless Visitor like her lurking around. That isn’t to say they never slipped up around the others. If George himself wasn't so prone to talking to himself, he might have picked up on Lockwood seemingly muttering to no one in the pitch-black darkness of his room being odd. 

Since then, she started showing up more and more frequently, as early in the day as she was able to. This one evening, she had shown up as Lockwood had been cutting a slice of treacle tart to go with his cup of tea.

"Tony." Lockwood flinched. The air near him shimmered as she materialised, laughing, perched on the kitchen table. She enjoyed startling him more than any decent person should. Lockwood eyed her warily, mildly peeved.

"I've told you, it's Lockwood now."

"Yeah, yeah, but I've got nothing better to do for the next, hmm, I don't know, forever. This is my only entertainment, you know" she said, staring dolefully at the treacle tart. He followed her line of sight.

"I thought you didn't like treacle tart."

"I don't," she sighed exaggeratedly, unfolding her legs from beneath her, "but if I were still alive, I'd be able to give it a second chance, wouldn't I?"

He rolled his eyes and tossed a fork at her, and she gave a playful shriek of laughter as it flew through her.

Occasionally, it had crossed his mind that perhaps he was being selfish by keeping her here. He didn't know any more than the next person about what 'the next world' was, if it even existed, but in the psychical investigation industry, it was generally agreed upon that putting a Visitor to rest was the closest they could come to moving on. Despite the blades and gunpowder involved, freeing Visitors from their eternal agony was almost humane.

He didn't mind however she addressed him after that evening.

There was an old mansion right on the outskirts of London that was infamous for being impossibly haunted, earning it the nickname “Hell’s Manor.” Many agencies, including Fittes and Rotwell, had tried their hand at ridding the place of the supernatural phenomena, with little luck. It was only a matter of time before it was their turn.

“The main problem with Hell’s Manor,” George was saying over lunch after spending the morning at the Archives, “is how much the Visitors interfere with the investigation. More than half of them are Type Two’s, and according to the few survivors, they could barely see their teammates, let alone speak to them.”

The three of them glumly picked at their ghormeh sabzi, weighed down by the complexity of the case. “So what do we do?” Lucy finally asked.

“We could…” George glanced cautiously at Lockwood before continuing. “We could always turn down the job.” 

Lockwood didn’t look too appreciative of that suggestion. He set his jaw, stabbing at his lunch with a bit more force than necessary.

“Fine,” George relented. “Let’s give it some more thought. We’ll pick this up again next week.”

As George started on the dishes after lunch, Lockwood wandered over to the living room where George’s extensive, meticulous notes were scattered across the coffee table. Hell’s Manor was no joke, and George’s extreme attention to detail was a testament to that. 

Lockwood scanned the notes thoughtfully. A nagging, reckless idea began to take root in his mind. He doubted any agency in their right mind had considered sending in only one agent, not with the horror stories chronicling the place. But what if…what if it was such a terrible idea, that it just might work? Lockwood was not one to doubt the power of sheer dumb luck, not when it had gotten him this far. 

He heard the kitchen floorboards creak. He surreptitiously snuck a few of the sheets up to the library, where he started drawing out some plans of his own.

A few hours later, he caught a familiar Visitor trying to wrench open a warm can of beer left on the kitchen table. So far, it seemed that she had only been successful in vigorously shaking it up. She had been too engrossed to notice Lockwood walking in, so she was just startled enough for him to swipe the can out of her barely-there grasp. 

"Nice try. Maybe when you turn 18."

She groaned. She had been so close. "Technically speaking, I'm 87 years old."

"Technically speaking, you're dead."

She pulled a face. "Boo." She turned to get a proper look at him and frowned at the sight of him nearly fully decked out in equipment. “Hang on,” she said, “I thought you didn���t have any cases tonight.”

Lockwood tried to appear engrossed in whatever he was reading. “Lucy and George don’t have any cases tonight,” he said far too casually without looking up.

“This better not be about Hell’s Manor,” she said in a flat voice, no trace of humour in her voice now. He didn’t reply, avoiding her gaze.

“Lockwood. Promise me you’re not going to Hell’s Manor tonight. Alone.”

When he still didn’t reply, she laughed humourlessly, as if she refused to believe it.

“Are you completely mental? Did you not listen to a word George said at lunch? Even I’m too nervous to hang about riff-raff like them, and I’m just about as dead as it gets.”

“It’s easier this way. Trust me.” She watched him stuff more flares into his gear belt than it could comfortably allow. “You can’t miscommunicate with anyone if there isn’t anyone to communicate with.”

“Lockwood,” she said mournfully, “they’ll eat you alive.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said tersely. “I’ll be in and out in a jiffy. And if you know what’s good for you,” he hurriedly added, recognising the defiant look brewing on her face, “you’ll stay away.”

“Loc-“

“I mean it, Y/N. Stay out of this.” Lockwood stared hard at her as her mouth pressed into a thin, flat line. He was impossible to reason with when he had his heart set on doing something like this. 

He turned, heading straight for the front door, pausing only at the rapier stand while her protests fell on deaf ears. In a haze of desperation, she slipped in between him and the door, as if she had enough substance to bodily block him from leaving. Without thinking, she stuck a translucent hand out to stop him. A translucent hand that, if Lockwood hadn't reflexively flinched, would have passed straight to him, and stopped his heart.

They stood there frozen for a moment, paralysed by shock and the terrifying almost-tragedy. Regret washed over her like waves crashing against a shore as she internally berated herself for being so careless. She was the first to break the silence, sharply sucking in an airless breath as she squeezed her eyes shut. "Crap. I didn't mean to -"

"So that's how it's going to be." Lockwood's voice was as wooden as his face.

"No." She bit down on her tongue, which was itching to go off on him and his injured expression. Logically, she knew he was only trying to emotionally blackmail her into letting him leave. So why couldn’t she bring herself to truly believe it? "Don’t be like that. It was - it was a mistake. You know I didn’t do that on purpose."

"Do I?" He glanced downwards to where her hand was still poised, mere inches from his chest. Immediately, she lowered her hand, putting as much distance as she could between the two of them as she flattened against the door. The lump in her throat made it hard to swallow.

She glared at him. "God, Lockwood, it was a mistake. You know I wasn't trying to -" She struggled with her words for a moment. "Trying to off you."

"Whatever," he muttered darkly under his breath. He reached around her to open the door as she moved out of the way, momentarily too flustered to stop him. He took advantage of her hesitation as he briskly walked out before she could recover.

"Anthony John Lockwood, you'll be sorry if you leave like this!"

Lockwood had never seen her this livid. He had made it all the way to the garden gate but she could only follow him up till the front porch steps, and even now her image was beginning to dangerously shimmer. Visitors couldn't manifest in the physical realm if they were too far from their Source, especially this early in the day, and both of them knew it was only a matter of seconds before she disappeared entirely. Her eyes flashed with anger as her mouth twisted into a vicious snarl, and she had never seemed more non-human than she did in that moment.

What did she know, Lockwood found himself thinking. She's been dead for nearly a century.

He paused long enough to watch her and her wrathful stare fully dematerialise. Then he turned and started walking, as if he couldn’t feel the leaden weight in his chest.

Hell’s Manor was a blur of anxiety and nausea. Lockwood had come up with a flimsy sort of plan where he had shortlisted the rooms most likely to contain the Sources, but he hadn’t anticipated the struggle just to get to them. His hands trembled, his stomach churned, and sweat beaded across his forehead as he fought against the overwhelming malaise beating down on him.

As he crept up yet another winding flight of stairs, he felt himself shiver as the air grew colder and thinner. He forced his eyes open wider, trying to block out the howling of some far-away draft and the creaking of the stairs. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the ephemeral silhouette of a Wraith slowly advancing towards him through the shadows. Shadows, or other Visitors? His heart thudded unsteadily as he reared an arm back and lobbed a flare at the Wraith.

The Wraith flickered and howled as it burnt up, its agonising shrieking filling Lockwood’s ears. He stumbled gracelessly, latching onto the railing for support, his legs nearly too weak to hold himself up. As suddenly as the screeching had started, it ended. His head spun, ears ringing with the quickly disappearing echoes of its cries. Although the Wraith was momentarily incapacitated, the other Visitors were not.

Lockwood realised far too late that what he had erroneously registered as dizziness was the stairs beneath his feet ripping off the railings, twisting this way and that. He had the wind knocked out of him as he flailed, falling backwards and hitting his head on something very hard, the bitter taste of copper filling his mouth.

Bloody and bruised, he finally gave in to the overwhelming urge to close his eyes and pray for a quick death, the blood roaring in his ears muffling the rest of the noise. He took in a shuddering breath. Some of his ribs were definitely broken. The side of his face stung where a falling piece of wood had struck him, narrowly missing his nose. 

He ached and hurt all over. He imagined not leaving Portland Row that evening. He would have been home - warm, alive, and mostly pain-free, curled up in an armchair with a magazine, listening to whatever inane prattle Y/N chose to fill his ears with that day.

Oh, how he wished they hadn’t fought.

Unfortunately, the quick death he was hoping for refused to come. The chaos of the manor had reduced, as though there was a lull in the destruction. In fact, it was almost too quiet. Distantly, he heard some shuffling, then the sound of wood being dragged. Dragged, as though by someone alive and solid. The piece of debris that had been pinning his leg down being moved out of the way. Hands reaching out and pulling him up. But no one knew he was here. Only one person did, but it couldn’t be her. Could it?

That question was the last thing hovering on his mind before he slipped out of consciousness.

When he came to, the assault on his senses was overwhelming. He could hear his associates arguing over the beeping of some machine. The strong scent of antibacterial soap grated on him. The bitter taste of oral anaesthesia burned his tongue. He groaned softly, head shifting on his pillow. Almost immediately, the voices ceased. With a tired sigh, he reluctantly cracked open an eye despite the pounding in his head.

“What the hell were you thinking?” His eyes fluttered close as they started going off on him, only half-listening.

“- it was only by sheer dumb luck that we knew you were gone, otherwise who knows when somebody would have-“

He hadn’t been listening too closely, but he perked up considerably at the last bit. “Wait, wait. What do you mean, ‘sheer dumb luck?’”

He could see George seriously considering outright refusing to explain himself, but he finally gave in. “Your bedroom windows. You left them open, and your closet doors were making a racket slamming open and closed. That’s what tipped us off that you were gone, and the papers on your bed told us where. Great plan, by the way,” George’s tone shifted into something more sarcastic, “Why bring an entire team down when you can get yourself killed all on your own?”

He knit his brow, certain that he had shut his windows that morning. He hadn’t even taken any of his plans to his room; he had left them in the library. He cast his eyes around the room where they landed on Y/N hovering in a corner, intently watching him worriedly. As soon as a look of recognition crossed his face, the tension in her face softened and she winked at him, turning her attention to an anatomy chart behind her. With considerable difficulty, he tore his eyes away from her.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

It was evident from their perplexed looks that they hadn’t expected such a ready apology. Usually, it took much more threatening and scolding to get Lockwood to express any kind of remorse. They stuttered for a minute, truly taken aback, until Lucy suggested that they go find the nurse. 

"You snitched on me?" Lockwood cried out incredulously as soon as the door closed behind them. This, apparently, was far from the right thing to say, if the way she glowed brighter was any indication.

"Hey. I don't want any lip from you 'till you can breathe without wincing. Plus," her lips twitched despite herself, "I can see you've done a pretty excellent job of busting it up yourself."

"Ha-ha. A regular comedian, you." She extended a hand, her ghostly fingers hovering above the cut on his lip, only this time, he didn’t reel back. Her fingers skated over the other bruises and scratches on his face as if she secretly wished to erase them. He watched her impassive face with half-lidded eyes and, despite his annoyance over her interfering, drunk in the sight of her like a man starved. 

A sense of awkwardness hung in the air from their fight earlier. Lockwood might have wanted to talk it through if he wasn’t in so much pain. Instead, he was bad-tempered and sulky, and god did his ribs hurt. He sank into his pillows, burying half of his face into them, like a petulant child throwing a tantrum.

"I had it under control," he whispered through gritted teeth. 

Her eyes roved over his battered form disinterestedly. “Yes. I can see that.”

They fell silent again.

“You’re welcome, by the way.”

He mumbled something less-than-complimentary into his pillow. 

"Lockwood?"

"What?" he bit out. Only, it wasn’t Y/N who had spoken. Lucy was standing in the doorway, her forehead creased and her eyes fixed right where Y/N had been floating just a moment prior. She seemed too distracted to have noticed the unexpected venom in his voice. A good amount of Lockwood's frustration dissolved as he tried to keep his face blank of any panic, sitting up the best he could. Lucy frowned around the room for a minute, and he was sure the jig was up, until she shrugged casually. Lockwood relaxed visibly.

"Oh, nothing. Thought I heard some voices."

“Hmm. Must be the, uh, other room.”

“Probably.” Lucy paused for a moment, eyes dragging over the cuts and bruises on his face. Did he really look that terrible? “Try to get some rest.” She gave him a small smile as she turned to leave, quietly closing the door behind her.

He didn’t like how empty the room felt. For the first time in a long while, he felt well and truly alone.

"Y/N?" he called out in a soft voice, much more in the mood to make up now. He hated how pathetic and vulnerable it made him sound. But there was no reply. The air remained still, his surroundings free of any Visitor-like haze. There was only the beeping of the hospital machines left in her wake, which lulled him to a fitful sleep.

TAGLIST: @neewtmas @midnight--raine @ahead-fullofdreams @how-to-stuff-and-things @cielooci @mohinithoughts @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @elenianag080 @avdiobliss @houseoftwistedspirits @mischivana @dangelnleif @mitskiswift99

[b1mbodoll]

Can you write about roommate Kazuha?

pairings: nakamura kazuha x f! reader

warnings: noncon to dubcon + perv! zuha + masturbation + toys + cervix fucking + panty sniffing + pillow humping + gaslighting + oral + spit

roommate! kazuha is the sweetest girl ever! she loves taking care of you n constantly makes your bed or does ur laundry while you’re running errands. you think nothing of it, accepting her kind gestures n buying her lil gifts in return <3 what you don’t know is that kazuha takes the opportunity to play with her cunt on your bed n sniff your dirty panties ^^ has even humped your pillow n squirted at the thought of you catching her.

when you do catch her in the act it’s like she’s a woman possessed. ur sweet roomie is long gone and in her place is a sicko. “don’t act all innocent, yn. ‘s your fault, you’re a fucking tease and you know it.” her words send your mind spiraling, wondering if it really was your actions that caused her perverted behavior. she doesn’t even stop grinding her clit on your pillow, keeps goin’ until she cums with a cry of your name <3

after her first orgasm you think she’s just gonna leave you alone n head to her room but you’re so wrong. she does go to her room but returns moments later with a black box in her hands. “what’s that, zuha?” you gulp, praying your voice doesnt show the slight terror you’re feeling. “you’ll find out soon enough.” there’s a weird smile on her face and it makes your stomach drop. you know what’s coming and decide not to fight it, hoping that if you comply she’ll go easier on you.

kazuha opens the box and takes out one of her bigger dildos, it’s long and thick and so intimidating because how is that gonna fit? “open.” she says and slips the silicon cock between your lips making you choke on it, drool coating the entire thing and even leaking down her hand. your gags are music to her ears but she pulls the toy out of your mouth, pushing you on your back n making her way between your legs. “gonna fuck you so good, angel. promise i’ll make you cum.” the tip of the dildo is so girthy it makes you whine, pussy spasming around it as your roommate makes you take every inch.

kazuha sets a fast pace immediately. doesnt give you time to adjust to the stretch before fucking your pussy like her life depends on it. “you’re so wet, are you sure you didn’t want this?” a high pitched moans escapes you n you start second guessing your feelings because if it’s wrong why does it feel so good? why does kazuha have you creaming around a toy you’re certain she’s used on herself?

she slaps your clit with her free hand and it has you cumming instantly, hips lifting off the bed at the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. “god, zuha! f-feels so fucking good, i love you,” your mind is completely empty n kazuha continues abusing your cunt with the dildo. the head hitting your cervix over n over is the last thing you remember feeling before passing out, body limp as she slips the toy past the opening of your womb. you’re unconscious n all you can do is take it but that doesn’t register in her head. the only thing she can focus on is how far she’s able to push the dildo inside n it makes her cum untouched <3

[minnielvrr]

Not Ticklish~

Lee: Chan Ler: Hyunjin, (lil bit of Lixie) Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I'm really sorry if this is bad guys, I'm not feeling too well rn and I'm kinda struggling to write well😭😖 Lemme know if there are any mistakes or anything and hope you enjoy~🤗💞

Chan had lost a bet against Hyunjin and now, lying on his bed, with his hands tied above his head, he wondered if he was going to make it out alive. Hyunjin’s evil smile certainly wasn’t promising longevity.

And to top it all he’d chosen today of all days to wear short shorts and a sleeveless top. He had been really confident he’d win after all.

“Are you ready hyung?” Hyunjin asked with a giddy smile.

He was perched on Chan’s hips, slowly drawing his nails all over the leader’s sides and suddenly digging in after a few minutes just to hear Chan squealing.

“No wahait Jihihinie! I’m not reaheheheheady yehet!”

“Too bad!” Chan bit his lower lip tightly when Hyunjin began his conquest, thrashing and squirming on the bed as he tried to stay quiet. The black sheets underneath them quickly bunching up and becoming messy.

Hyunjin’s nimble fingers dove into the older’s ribs, applying a firm but gentle pressure that seemed to work wonders.

Muffled giggles fell from Chan’s lips as he wriggled around, making Hyunjin tsk at the leader. “C’mon hyung laugh~ It’s no fun if you’re being like this!”

Chan just poked his tongue out at him defiantly and Hyunjin frowned. Fine. If he was still able to be bratty, that meant Hyunjin wasn’t trying hard enough, right?

So the artist decided to have his own fun, roaming his hands all over Chan’s torso, every touch light enough that it kept Chan fighting to suppress his giggling but not so overwhelming that he was screaming for mercy….yet. That would come later.

“I know you wanna let it out hyungie~ Don’t be shy, let me hear you~” Who on earth had taught Hyunjin to be so…so stupidly good at teasing?!

Hyunjin stalled, dragging it out. He knew if he played his cards right, he’d have Chan begging in no time. So, placing his hands at Channie’s elbows, he started to scribble his way downwards….towards the lee’s ticklish armpits.

Chan squeaked once, quickly dissolving into the giddiest giggles the artist had ever heard from him, “There, much better! You’re so cute like this hyungie. We really should tickle you a lot more.” Chan’s laughter only went up in pitch at the unbearable teasing.

Chan felt like his brain got scrambled from the artist’s sweet, velvety voice, his cheeks flushing with a pretty blush that had Hyunjin cooing adoringly at him.

“Aren’t you just the cutest, hyung! Look at you, I’ve barely done anything but you’re blushing and out of breath already~” Hyunjin gushed, a strange glee in his system that turned his words into weapons.

Chan yelped, goofy cackles leaving his lips, eyes keenly watching the artist’s hands to try to predict where they would go next. Not that that would make any difference.

Hyunjin kept this torture up as he started his mock interrogation. Unbeknownst to the two a certain blonde boy wandered down the hallway, curious about the source of laughter and was now watching the scene in amusement.

“So, tell me hyung… what’s your worst spot? You know that one place that would have you screaming and begging for me to stop? Everyone has one.”

The artist was very good at setting the mood and the leader giggled nervously, hands twitching in their bonds any time the younger merely glanced at a spot.

Hyunjin pushed the older’s t-shirt up and splayed his hands on his belly. Chan flinched, shrieky giggles escaping at the feeling of hands so close to such a sensitive spot.

“I-I swear, I’m not ticklish! You-you’re wasting your time, Jinnie.” Chan hurried to say.

Hyunjin gave him a deadpan look, making him giggle at the sudden seriousness of the ferret, breaking out into an evil grin as he gave the bubbly leader a real reason to laugh.

Fingers that had been resting at his tummy, now folded into claws that dragged all over his bare torso. Chan threw his head back and laughed, the sweet sounds bringing a smile onto Jinnie’s face.

“You were saying, hmm?”

“I lied! I lahahaahaaid! Plehehehease!!” Chan gasped out between giggles. Well, that didn’t take long.

“Please what hyungie? Please tickle you more? Of course! I was planning on doing juuust that.” He dug his fingers into Chan’s abs, the older bucking wildly at the feeling.

Hyunjin scribbled up and down the lines of his abs, dipping his pinky in Chan’s navel and kneading at his sides.

“Noo, Hyuhuhuhuhune PLEHEHEHEHEASE!! AHAHAHAHAAHAA.” Hyunjin giggled along with him, admiring how red Channie’s face already was. “Just admit you’re ticklish hyung~”

As Chan's frantic cackles bounced off the walls, Felix, who had been observing quietly from the doorway, couldn't resist joining in.

Walking into the room, he sat next to Hyunjin, an arm hooked around the artist’s waist. “What did hyungie do this time?” He asked Hyunjin with a laugh.

“He lost a bet! And now he’s claiming that he’s not ticklish. The nerve!” Hyunjin’s voice was smug. It wasn’t often the kids won against Chan. “Ooh tough luck Channie~ Jinnie, want some help with him? I know a few secrets~”

Whispering to each other, Felix scooted down to sit on Chan’s knees, keeping his only free limbs pinned under his weight. And quick as a blink, they begun the torment.

Lixie’s fingers kneaded harshly over Chan’s thighs while Hyunjin peppered soft kisses all over his stomach.

It was a new feeling and something about the contrast of the two techniques had the poor lee howling with laughter, tears of mirth trailing down his rosy cheeks.

“Where should I tickle you next~?” Hyunjin lifted his head up for air, his hands moving to Chan's sides, nails grazing ever so lightly against his waist while Felix continued relentlessly.

“Plehehease Hyune, Lihihixie, staHAHAHAP!” He whined; lips formed into a pout at how mean they were being.

“Keep his eyes closed for me Jinnie. I’ll show you something.” Felix jumped off the bed, rummaged around in a drawer and grabbed something from it before making his way over to Channie’s feet.

Chan’s eyes widened comically when he heard that and he shook his head pleadingly at Felix. All he got in return were twin smirks from the two.

And then Hyunjin’s hands closed over Chan’s eyes and he felt his remaining senses heightening as his vison went dark, nervous anticipation pooling in his stomach. What was Felix up to?

Chan felt the bed dip at his feet seconds before a weight was added on his ankles, then fingers were dancing over his socked soles. The leader let out a screech that startled Hyunjin enough to let go of his face in alarm.

“Shihihit! Noahahahah. ARGHHAHAAHAAHA!!” The poor lee was hysterical, quivering like a leaf as he laughed uncontrollably.

“Hyung!” Jinnie scolded. His heart was racing from the sudden scare and so he did what anyone would have done in his situation; Hyunjin shoved his hands in Chan’s underarms.

The leader felt like he was going crazy. He was helpless as two of his worst spots were wrecked simultaneously.

A wide smile was permanently plastered on Chan’s face, eyes shut tightly as he let the sensations wash over him. He hadn’t been wrecked this bad in months. It was about time.

Chan’s back arched off the bed, hands tugging helplessly at their restraints but the held firm. He really couldn’t handle so much at once, and so, he gave in.

“FAHAHAHA- PLEHEASE JIHIHINIE LIHIHIXIE!! I’M TICKLISH! I’M TIHIHICKLISH, GODS PLEASE!!”

The two fairies stopped to give the leader a break, gently rubbing over his abused skin and cooing at the squeals and flinches that resulted from the tender touches.

But the fun was just beginning. Hyunjin and Felix weren't about to let such a wonderful opportunity to slip through their fingers.

“Save your voice for later Channie. We’re just getting started with you~” Felix’s sing song voice only made things feel so much worse.

After giving Channie some time to recover, and resting their tired hands, Hyunjin clapped. His eyes were practically shining as he announced his grand idea.

“New game hyungie! Now you’re gonna admit that you’re the best leader ever and that you are lovable. And until you do, we’re not going to stop.”

They were not going to give their hyung any time to argue about it. It was a fact and Chan would just have to accept it.

Hyunjin smiled brightly, pressing his fingers into the leader’s ribs and vibrating them at every word, making sure the leader knew that he meant it.

Felix barked out an amused laugh, then switched to the hairbrush he’d acquired earlier, using it to scrub the soles of Channie’s feet.

It was his first encounter with the tool and Chan couldn’t hold back the scream that was ripped from his throat, body convulsing with panicked laughter.

It was torture beyond anything he’d experienced before. Was this how Hyunjin felt when he was tickled?

Gods he didn’t know how the ferret had taken it. He couldn’t stop laughing, so much so that he couldn’t even gather himself enough to even try to beg.

The artist noticed this, both stopping immediately and rushing to cradle Chan’s face. “Hyung? Hyungie are you okay? Was it too much?”

Question after question hurtled form their lips but all Chan could do was pant. Once he caught his breath, he looked at the worry etched onto every feature of the fairies faces and felt a little bad.

“It-it was okay. Why did you stop?” Chan rasped with a shy smile and the pure bewilderment on their faces had him giggling.

“So, you want us to continue? To keep tickling you that hard and rough?” Chan’s face slackened with how flustered he got, little giggles leaving his lips as Hyunjin looked him dead in the eyes, waiting for a reply.

A blotchy red color was seeping down his neck and disappearing under the collar of his t-shirt as he tried to form one coherent sentence.

“I want a proper answer hyungie. Or I’ll just have to leave you here like this for whoever comes along~ You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He teased, and Chan had never wanted to agree with a statement more but that is a story for another time.

Instead, he shook his head, parting his lips, ”I-I don’t mind it…”

“Is that all? Guess we’ll just have to stop now then. We don’t want to do anything that you don’t want.” Hyunjin pretended to get up, ”Okay! Okay! I want this alright?! Now stop teasing. Please.”

Hyunjin grinned and suddenly flipped Chan onto his stomach, draping himself over the lee’s back. “Channie hyung is your back ticklish?” He hummed, fingers drawing small circles over the older’s shoulder blades.

Chan squeezed his eyes shut, wriggling a little. “N-no it’s not tic-ticklish at all, so you should try another spot.” He lied breathlessly, praying that Hyunjin wouldn’t try it out for himself.

Hyunjin did exactly that. With an amused ‘Oh?’, his fingers pressed into the bone, relishing in the squeal and cackle that followed the action.

“Were you lying to me hyungie?” Channie just laughed, body jerking left and right to no avail. Hyunjin lingered on the spot for a couple of minutes, basking in the sweet sounds the leader made.

Then he curiously moved his hands outwards, closer and closer to Chan’s vulnerable underarms. The poor lee’s figure jolted, arms tugging harshly at the bindings to cover the sensitive spot.

Felix on the other hand was going to town on Channie’s feet, having peeled off his socks earlier, he used the hairbrush on one sole while dragging his nails over the other.

Hyunjin’s fingers curled in his armpits once, then again, the movements quickening each time and driving poor Channie crazy.

“PLEHEASE JINIE PLEASE OHO MY GAHAHAD I’LL DO ANYHYTHING!! JUST MOHOVE SPOHOHOTS!” The leader’s breathing was erratic, his body squirming and thrashing under their combined attack.

The duo paused once more, when Channie’s laughs had turned into harsh wheezes and after tending to him for a little, Lixie decided to let Hyunjin work him magic on their stubborn leader and took off in search of his own prey.

When Hyunjin’s fingers finally lifted off his body, the artist surveyed the state of his victim. Channie’s tummy was pink where he’d scratched at the sensitive skin, his cheeks and ears and neck bright red.

Little tears escaped his closed eyes and sweet residual giggles still left his smiley lips and Hyunjin suddenly wanted to keep tickling him.

A few taps of Channie’s waist got the leader’s attention as Jinnie asked if he wanted to continue. Throwing his head back with a groan, the cute lee nodded bashfully.

Hyunjin was just so good at knowing exactly what to do to make Chan feel ecstatic. Fingers walked their way up his sides, slowly, torturously, occasionally wiggling at an especially sensitive spot as they made their way up again to his underarms.

“OHOHOHO MY GAHAD JIhiNIEHIE PLEASE!!” Channie’s hands clenched into fists in their restraints. Hyunjin used only his index finger to scratch at the reddened skin.

Chan was just so ticklish there. The leader gasped, little hicuppy giggles leaving his lips.

“Not gonna admit it hyungie~ You really do love this huh?” Hyunjin had caught on to Chan’s plan earlier but seeing him laugh himself silly as he tried to take it had been too fun to point it out.

He tried to stay still; his body worn out from the wrecking he’d gotten but still craving a tad more.

So, he held onto the words that Hyunjin wanted him to say. The younger had convinced him, but he still wanted those mean fingers to have him begging.

It took him a while to feel satisfied enough to bark out the magic words, his voice wobbling and stumbling over the words until he finally got them out through uncontrollable giggles.

“Fine. FINE. I’ll sahaHAY IT! IHIHIM THE BEST LEADER EVER AND I-IHI AHAHAHAM LOVABLE. NAHAHOW ENAHAHANOUGH!”

Hyunjin stopped immediately, his aching fingers fumbling with the restraints as he hurried to set Chan free.

Once he massaged the older’s wrists and gave him some water, the two cuddles together on the ruffled sheets and Hyunjin wiped away the lasts of Channie’s tears from his face.

He smiled fondly at their leader. Chan could be such a handful sometimes, but the kids were there just for that. They would make sure Chan got the love and praise he deserved.

And of course, all the tickles his shy lee side craved.

I'm sorry if the ending wasn't that good, it was a tad rushed😣

[daydream-cement]

Little Walks

Miranda Hilmarson x Reader

Just little walks taken Miranda to your car.

Author's Note: Just a random lil fic. Thank you to @bri-sonat for your beta <3

“You’re Y/n, right?” A voice called from behind you. It was familiar enough to remind you of two distinct characteristics of its owner: cute smile & great tipper.

You stopped and turned your head, pausing to wait for the leggy blonde who was walking fast to catch up to you. Her excitement to see you was obvious, involuntarily giving you butterflies. You greet her with a nod and a big smile, “Constable. I haven’t seen you for a while. How have you been?”

Miranda fell into stride with you, her joy was infectious, “Busy, but good! I’ve been meaning to come back in. I miss that hot chocolate you made me.” 

“I can assure you, there is nothing special about my hot chocolate.” You laugh, turning your chin upwards to catch a glimpse of her face. Much to your surprise, Miranda was already looking at you, her blue hues unwavering when they locked on your own. There go the butterflies again.

“I’d beg to differ.” Miranda shot back before dropping her gaze. Her tone suggested flirtation and the growing blush on her cheeks made you turn your attention to the sidewalk before you could get your hopes up. The constable’s eyes were glued to her boots kicking at a patch of gravel, her confidence wavering, “...do you usually get off work around now?”

You had no reason to lie to the tall constable, rather you were keen on getting to know her, so sharing things about yourself made sense. “For the most part, yeah. I like it when they give me a consistent schedule.” 

“Cool... cool...” Miranda nodded nonchalantly, her cheeks showing signs of a suppressed smile.

--

She had started this little habit of waiting for you after a few times of eating at the restaurant where you waited tables. Hilmarson had gone two straight weeks of waiting for you to walk you to your car just to spend time with you. Her chivalrous offer to walk with you to your car was unexpected (and somewhat unnecessary), but how could you say no to those sweet eyes, and why would you want to? 

To you, it was all one big coincidence that Miranda was always nearby patrolling when you walked down the alleyway toward your car. It was just a wonderfully serendipitous moment where her work schedule coincided with yours. 

She would ask you about your day and sometimes speak vaguely of her work. You knew you had a small crush forming when you watched the way she would coo at passing dogs and cats sitting in the windows of the apartments they called home.

Miranda spoke incoherently in a high-pitched voice, squatting low to welcome an overexcited puppy into her arms. The constable enjoyed the animal’s attention for a long while before she looked up at you with a great big smile, “Isn’t she adorable?”

“She is…” You say, eyes focused on the constable. Your agreement was two fold - while the puppy was adorable, so was the woman crouched in front of you. Your gaze caused the blonde to look away, a blush spreading on her face when she realized your words had more than one meaning.

The puppy continued on with her walk and Miranda and you did the same. There was an awkwardness between you, but you saw the constable smirking from the corner of your eye. 

The silence continued until you reached your car, the constable quickly reached out and opened your car door for you, “Hey, Y/n… I was thinking, uhm…”

Butterflies began swarming in your stomach and you paused in front of the constable, watching her expectantly. “Mhm? What is it, Andy?”

You could see the constable’s eyes go soft at the use of the nickname, her teeth biting at her bottom lip as she considered her words carefully. “Well, I was wondering… if you have time…”

Your eyes went wide and you leaned in closer, desperately hoping Miranda was finally going to ask you out.

“Do you think you, uh… could text me where you got that top? It’s… very cute.” Miranda looked away from you, her eyes squeezing shut as she realized how disappointed she was in herself.  She had completely chickened out and couldn’t bear to see the look on your face.

And it’s a good thing she looked away. You were so disappointed. You actually thought she was going to ask you out.

“Oh… Uhm, yeah. Sure.”

“Great. Thanks.”

The rest of your interaction was so strange. Miranda was as polite and kind as always, but there was a newfound distance between the two of you as she bid you goodbye and closed your car door. 

--

Miranda stared at her shoes as she leaned against a building and waited for you to get off work. She was ten minutes early so she wouldn’t miss you. This walk to your car would be different. That's what she kept telling herself anyway.

She held a cigarette between her middle and forefinger while her cell phone was wedged between her ear and shoulder. The constable spoke in a hushed tone to her partner, “I’m not going to chicken out! Don’t say that...”

“I don’t know about that. You didn’t ask them out the past two times you said you would. I’m just assuming you’ll do it again.” Robin was plain in her criticisms of her best friend, not sugarcoating anything for the constable. 

Miranda took a drag of her cigarette and pouted, “I swear, Rob. I’m gonna ask them for dinner on Friday.”

“You better. Otherwise, I’m going to have to listen to your pining for another week.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“I’m not wrong. Whenever we are together, it’s ‘Y/n did this’, ‘Y/n did that.’ It’s never-ending, I swear, Mir.”

The two’s bickering was cut off when Miranda turned her eyes up and caught a glimpse of you leaving through the side door in the alleyway. The constable swiftly hung up on Robin and tamped out her cigarette on the brick wall nearby. “Y/n!” 

You paused with a great big smile, treasuring the image of Miranda jogging down the alleyway to walk at your side. After Miranda had acted so strange yesterday, you were filled with determination to ask her out. You tried to make sure your flirting was as thinly veiled as possible - your hand reaching out to squeeze her forearm as unabashedly admired her face, “Good afternoon, constable.” 

“H-hey...” the constable was taken aback by your forwardness, her thoughts stalling as she looked from your eyes to your hand. “I, uh, brought you something.”

You giggled and looked over her person expectantly, wondering what she could have possibly gotten you, “Really?”

“Yes! It’s right, uh- Right here.” Miranda searched her pockets until she found the little shell sitting in her pant pocket. She held it out to you with a great big smile. “Yesterday, you said you never get to go to the beach as much as you want to... So I.. uhm.. brought the beach to you.”

Her thought and pure sweetness made your heart ache. You pouted slightly as you took the small olive shell from her palm between your fingers, examining it for a moment before squeezing it in your fist. “Thank you, Andy...”

Andy. She loved when you used that sweet nickname. Never had she liked it before it fell off your lips.

“I found it on this beach when Robin and I were out of town doing interviews. I was actually thinking you would like it a lot there...”

“I’m sure I would. Maybe you should take me sometime?”

Miranda’s whole body was buzzing with excitement. “Really? Together?”

“Absolutely.”

You both spoke simultaneously, “Like a date?”

Immediately, you looked away from one another. There was an abundance of excitement and energy between the two of you that created a thick silence.

Miranda took the brave next step in taking your hand and intertwining your fingers. She broke the silence in a hushed tone, “I was able to get a day off Friday… I know you usually don’t work those days. We could go then.”

“I would really like that…” You smile, meeting her eyes before lifting her hand to your lips to press a soft kiss to her skin.

Taglist: @charymobile, @bri-sonat, @weemswife, @smutuniversesblog, @opheliauniverse, @renravens, @whenyouhaveanobsession, @shyladyfan, @rubberduckiesbathing, @mcufanisme, @peanutbutterprincess, @larissaoftarthweems, @lvinhs, @myzzjolanda, @principal-weems09, @imlike-so-gaydude, @emilynissangtr, @xuukoo, @brienneswife, @oculusalien, @sweetderacine, @giogwensversion, @gela123, @thevillagegay, @katiemcgrathsbitch1, @naomi-m3ndez, @mysaviorfalsegod, @salems-spaghettios, @imgayforwoman69, @bychrissi, @bitchr-mkay, @h-doodles, @alexusonfire, @weemssapphic, @lilfartbox1, @mountain-bikingwitch, @aemilia19, @agathaandgwenslesbian, @gay-frogs08

[joshhutchersonseggsalad]

desperately in need of soft derek who takes his tough hard shell off at the end of the day since he's alone and comfortable with u. He'd cuddle u in his fancy warm bed, big spoon ofcourse. You feel comforted in his arms, but lil do u know just how much he enjoys making u feel safe. His soft hands gently caress ur stomach and give u chills everytime his fingers run up a certain spot. He can't help but smile behind you as he listens to your calm rhythmic breaths and feels ur back rise and fall against his chest. Ur ass is up against him too and occasionally he slides his hand down to give it a quick squeeze, but knows in his heart he enjoys the wholesome moment more than anything else. His voice quiet and raspy as he asks how ur day was in hopes of hearing atleast one good thing. If u had a bad day he insists on giving u a massage. He claims to be "your knight in shining armor..expensive sexy armor" as he plays with your hair and leaves kisses down your jawline and shoulders. Sometimes he'll leave a few wet sleepy hickeys if hes feeling lovey. You're a drug to him, even when hes rarely sober u can make him feel high. You're the only person who sees him for more than just what he can provide and he cherishes you for that. Even if the room is pitch black, you can still see his eyes sparkle as he looks down at you in adoration. He doesn't care if u see him with messy hair or with wrinkles in his shirt or with breath smelling like old alcohol and steak. At the end of the day he takes pride in the fact that ur his and he's urs. If he's turned over in bed and not holding u, even while in his sleepy state he makes sure u guys r still touching somehow..whether it's his foot touching urs or your fingers interlocked. "You know I love you right..I know I don't say it enough but I do" is something said often said usually once he's falling asleep. If you're lucky you'll hear him chuckle in his sleep and mumble how beautiful u are. If he's had a long day, he'd hold u close and lean his head on ur chest, taking in ur scent and refusing to let u go regardless if u wanted to turn over or not. His soft snores and slight drooling aren't even an issue to u since u feel like heaven in his arms anyways💚

[chosoniisan]

caught in the middle ▶︎▶︎ choso + suguru (r18)

➤ pairing: kamo choso | reader | getou suguru

➤ setting: modern, non-curse au (uni au, specifically)

➤ genre: smut!! (a little dark, just a lil')

➤ caution: threesome (ish); a splash of d*bious c*nsent (coercion); oral s*x (p & v); rough treatment

➤ summary: according to suguru (no thanks to choso), you're too inexperienced for your own good; he intends to change that

➤ authoress' notes: I was struck with the idea of choso and suguru tag teaming you, and so this was born plus I haven't written smut in so long and wanted to dust myself off. my hope is that I can make this into a lil mini series, because I'm keen to continue exploring the concept of suguru showing you & choso the ropes when it comes to the downright nasty. I'm also keen to playing into a degenerate characterization of suguru, but that's neither here nor there :')

“Remember what I said—don’t let her cum before I do.”

Would you have preferred him talking to you rather than over you?

Who knows, but what you do know is that either way you’re the last one who’s primed to contribute any sort of coherent response. And how could you when you’re currently suffering from acute choking-on-Suguru’s-girth disease of which your symptoms include aching in your jaw, saltiness clinging to your palate, and, of course, an affinity for only breathing through the mostly muffled, the utterly debauched.

But he’s only one accessory to the crime of ruining you from both ends with the other half of the blame resting on Choso’s shoulders, coupled with you resting entirely on his face. How much “persuasion” went into this arrangement is a story for later if ever, particularly when Choso’s not flattening his tongue for another pass across the seam of your lower lips, as though a consolation for drawing back at the last second. 

“. . .That doesn’t seem fair to her,” he pitches in your defense, and for that he has your appreciation, even if speaking up for you brings with it the fanning of his breath, teasing of his pinked tiers where you’re most sensitive. It isn’t a perfect solution. . .or much of one at all, considering he makes a point to return to the source of intoxication, courtesy of a rogue flicker over you in that empty space—not so much with the ripple effect that sends you sputtering around Suguru and wishing he isn’t crammed so deeply in your mouth. “She always likes it when I eat her out, and I really want her to cum on me. . .”

Just like Choso’s blatant admission, so too is the embarrassment scorching through your insides, bubbling up over the expanse of your face; though you can only contemplate craning back since Suguru is enough steps ahead of you to crown his fingers through your hair. Suffice it to say, you aren’t going anywhere besides the engorged length of him, filling you up to the absolute brim. (Clearly addressing Choso’s knack for oversharing to your detriment will also have to wait for another time. And honestly, you’re not entirely sure you would have gotten through to him when he’s this overtaken by the peachy pit between your legs.)

Off the heels of abashment, you falter a bit as those pesky digits relinquish their hold on your tresses once Suguru’s commanded your compliance again. He’s silkly devious that way, tracing the pads of his fingertips across your cheek at first before his thumb presses at the corner of your lips and strains the tender flesh even further around his member. Unlike earlier, his sunglow gaze is trained wholly on you and no one else, nursing a glossy sheen atop your skin (then there’s Choso who isn’t helping your case either, wetting saliva over your folds). “Don’t you think that’s selfish of you?”

Is what Suguru says in the same moment that he’s devolved into using his hand on your face to guide you even further onto him, until he’s bobbing dangerously near the back of your throat, preluding what’s to come. Though as for the right now, he’s thoroughly effected by your oral sleeve, those last vestiges of self-constraint gradually falling to the wayside in a wash of heartthrob red laying claim to more and more of his face. “You have me to thank for this—yet you’re only concerned about getting off yourself.” His chiding has an edge of something else, which persists in obscurity as you’re beholden to a punctuated ram throwing you off kilter. “I didn’t think you were a selfish girl. . .” he trails off there, leading you along his very short leash. “Tell me I’m not wrong about you.”

You don’t tell Suguru anything—instead, you offer a semblance of a nod, accompanied by an even greater offering of slickened reverence to his cock as you work him feverishly into your mouth, skimming over the vein webbed on his underside. That sets off the chain reaction of him folding over you with a malted groan spilt from his lips, and in the meantime you rear your hips back, hoping Choso takes the hint to sympathize with your plight of not wanting to fall over the edge too soon. Because if he keeps at his previous pace, you have no doubt in your mind that you’ll be reacquainted with the sort of rapture only he knows how to indulge you in.

Surprisingly, Choso is receptive to your wordless plea even while he steers you back onto him with hands curled over your sides; the hum of a sigh inked in relief strums through him as he stitches himself back to you in earnest. Like each ticking second spent away from your heat was a second shaved from his existence. He’s measured for once with his devotion, smearing beads of your wetness to pave the way for his tongue breaching past your pleated slit and settling between your inner walls with a sinful ease. From you, there’s a whine that splinters into pieces the moment it hits the air as you’re realizing (belatedly) that you severely underestimated Choso’s proclivity for cultivating you into pure bliss.

It's too late now with his one-track mind and equally fervent ministrations, so you try to make what you can out of the situation in spite of electricity sparking over your nerves, the incessant bubbling up in your stomach already signaling the beginning of the end. And you need look no further than the weight of Suguru seeded on your tongue. Choso might be stealing a good chunk of your attention, but that doesn’t stop you from fixating on the sting at the outer edges of your lips from a tight fit or the soon-to-be mottling over your knees trying to keep yourself steady in the midst of a deterioration into downright battering. How quickly demanding bruises through Suguru like a contagion, the strain that’s cured only from your undoing by his hand, and so you’re left with no choice but to let yourself be caught up by him, in him, for the sake of him.

“You know. . .you’re not very good at this,” Suguru remarks as if he isn’t fiercely warming himself between your lips, because only he could pull himself together enough to tear into you with a breezy tinge in his wake, the proverbial salt in your wound. Sooner rather than later, his hand finds itself tangled at the back of your head, dragging you right down to the base of him, and your scramble to smother your gag reflex (and Choso in the process) through a hail of full-bodied quaking merely proves his point. “You’re lucky I’m willing to teach you how to properly suck dick, since Choso clearly isn’t giving you enough practice.”

Speaking of—it’s right then and there that Choso takes the opportunity to really spear you on his tongue.

He isn’t taking that dig too well.

Problem is. . .his displeasure is misplaced, or at least it feels that way when his fingers move to split open your folds so he can bully and prod at the spot that has you blinking back stars in collapse. A whine sets the stage for your frantic writhing atop Choso, trying your best to dislodge him for your own good, but he’s resistant to coaxing of any kind when you’re falling apart at his beck. It’s one thing to bear through an unrelenting Choso, molding you to the shape of his sticky sweet pleasure, but it’s another thing entirely to keep your head above the waters of gratification whilst swallowing down every inch of Suguru’s cock.

And he doesn’t make it any easier for you, you who’s allegedly rough around the edges in the craft of obliging a man. Breathing might as well be a luxury what with Suguru beating your throat raw with his swollen tip, and there’s no finesse in the way you fumble your tongue over him; either your efforts aren’t clumsy enough to warrant a snide affront or he’s far too consumed with chasing after his own end through you. (You’re inclined to think it’s the latter more so than the former.) Beneath the chorus of depravity suffusing the room, your heart is heavy against your ribcage, and you can only hope that Suguru acquiesces first, even if that means holding your nose to his c—

Lips seal around your clit with particular fervor.

Oh, no.

No no no no no.

A sweeping arch invites itself over your back in the same beat that you instinctively squeeze your thighs around Choso’s head, surrendering even more of yourself to his gluttony. It’s a vicious, depraved cycle because with every convulsion racking down to your bones, you’re anchored back to him gorging on you with little abandon, utterly remorseless that he’s driving you out of your mind. Ecstasy is oh so malted, tastes like a milk & honey delicacy while Choso can’t seem to decide whether to savor your pulsing clit or root through your tightly knotted, dripping wet clutch. Though it’s the bitter part of that sweetness sobering you up before you have a chance to feed into the velveted hunger that’s ravaging as it is rosied:

“You really don’t listen, do you.” His infliction isn’t the slow, too slow drag of his shaft along your tongue nor is it him relinquishing your mouth to slide along the side of your face. And neither is it the obscene tap, tapping of his ruddy cockhead against your cheek, streaking a mess of juices over the once untouched canvas of you.

Blinking bleariness from your vision and yet his moonless gaze, crackling at the edges, is clear as day—says there’s no need to wait long for true retribution.

 “I guess, I’ll have to give you a lesson in obedience, too—my treat.”

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Depressed!anon here. Thank you for inspiring me 💜 heres the concept for my goofy lil oc(art coming soon)

---

OAKE 13 Model-D, The Ochre City/ Oakley, the Wistful Vivarium!

A multi-die Puppet designed as a moving city, meant to be capable of housing a sizeable population. Well, for the rich, of course. Multiple soul dies were used to make the entire city move, with Oakley at the head, and seven additional soul dies for the legs, windsails, and tail of Model D. OAKE stood for Oct-Alma Automotive Kinetic Environment, with three models being prototyped. OAKEs never made it to full-scale production, due to the immense resource requirements and the fragility of the sanity in the soul dice. Oakley was one such prototype, Model Dragon. 

As 13 M-D, Oakley was old enough to witness the fall of humanity. His immense body contained a giant vivarium, a completely enclosed mobile city. As the other seven soul dice slowly became corrupt and caused the destabilization of the vivarium, Oakley did his best to lead his collapsing body to what he hoped would be a safe haven, before he too gave into madness. He gave up his fight not far from the City of Circuits, an immobile head attached to a rusting hull.

As a rebuilt Puppet, Oakley has a smaller frame, and his own body for once. Now a dragon Animatronic, he can freely roam to his heart's desire, providing a method of fast travel for Pomni when they cross paths. Oakley's one and only wish is to see the world rebuilt.

WOAH

WOAHHHHHH

WOAHHHHHHHHHHHH /VERY MUCH POS

if I had a nickel for everytime someone created a dragon OC with such a fleshed out and intriguing concept for this AU, I would have two nickels

which isn't a lot but it's SO AWESOME THAT IT HAPPENED TWICE AUGH

My brain immediately thought of Shadow of the Colossus for this big guy and I think that's so amazing, I LOOOOOOVE giant creatures colossal beings my absolute beloved I wish we had them in real life but as friends

I'm getting sidetracked I'm just so excited for this concept like WHATTTT, A GIANT MECHANICAL DRAGON THAT'S ALSO A FLOATING CITY?!??! FOR THE RICH!???!?!?! I WANNA SEE THAT SHIT JUST TO WITNESS HOW SUCH A THING TRAVERSES FROM POINT A TO POINT B AUGHHHH THAT SOUNDS SO COOL (but also... very tragic.... 7 dices were used... containing multiple souls... Oh, these poor, tragic people who had to be subjected to such cruelty. I hope they found peace somewhat, if the dices were destroyed)

The concept of fast travel was something I've been considering for this AU too, mostly with the idea of "soul magic + device that causes object displacement" (or more commonly known as "teleportation") BUT NOPE, GIANT DRAGON NOW, LOVE IT, PITCH IT, SELL IT

(also reminds me of The Last Stag from Hollow Knight, would Oakley also be giving Pomni the option to go from city to city? All the major, largest cities of this world are neighbors, and they kinda form like, a weird giant cog)

OH, this makes me SO excited to see your concept art for it. like, oh my lord. Goodness gracious, it's going to be amazing and I just know it. As usual, take your time, don't feel pressured, I await the lad's visual concept with all the patience in the world teehee :3

[obsessedwrhys]

Do you have any angst headcanons for Lorsan (AFKJ)? Doesn’t even have to be ship related I just love a good lil sad bunny boy every now and then and I’m curious if you have anything in mind

|| LORSAN ANGST HEADCANONS ||

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ major angst, bit of fluff, I added some relationship headcanons as well, enjoy!!

He has self esteem issues.

It's the constant overthinking of whether if he's good enough that made him this way. With all the corruption happening in the land of his home, he just feels the guilt.

He tells himself he did what was right setting out searching for help but was it right to have abandon his people when they could have been better if he stayed and helped instead?

That's why whenever the thoughts became unbearable, he'll start pacing up and down and even sometimes go as far as to pulling at his own bunny ears.

He just doesn't wish to be a burden to anyone.

Adding on that his big sister is such a good role model to others, it pressures him even more to try to be as perfect as she is. After all, he never was a good student at the Jade Lake Academy when he was a kid.

Although he always plays off as the cool guy and whatever, most of the time it's his way of coping with his insecurities.

So if you happen to be dating him, communication will be a huge issue in the relationship.

He doesn't listen to you even though he's a windwhisperer. It's quite ironic.

You always have to point out the things he's doing is not good for him or that what he's doing is not fine with you. He can be a bit slow.

He also gets depressed easily if left alone. That's why he's very chatty when he's around his friends. It's all because of his fear of loneliness.

He just doesn't want to be abandoned.

The thought of all his friends forgetting about him scares him.

Another thing I would like to say is I think that whenever he cries, he starts off with like this high pitch whimper. It's like those cries where he feels so vulnerable that he completely loses all hope in himself.

Whenever he's upset or anxious, he grabs onto his arms like he's hugging himself. It's how he tries to comfort himself.

If you were to offer him a hug, he'll literally melt into your embrace and start crying shamelessly. He'd struggle to talk through the hiccups as he pour out his problems

"I—I'm sorry— hgnh! I wasn't thi-thinking right... hold me hnn... mm..." He'd cry, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

He rarely cries so when it does its from the days of bottling up his emotions deep inside.

Sometimes when he gets too frustrated, he'll accidentally lash out and bite you which ends up with him apologising nonstop. All this leading to him hating himself even more.

Even though he has his issues, he's still a person just like everybody else. You just hope that someday he'll realise there's no shame in being imperfect.

(Sorry this was a bit short, I ran out of ideas 😅)

[moneymartin]

🦈 - perfect pair

warnings: nothing but tooth rotting fluff. mia’s a lil nerd lol and awk/nervy reader :)

a/n: making this short and sweet cause i been itching to write smth for mia soooo. promise all the other things will come out soon they’re really close to being done :( title will make sense at the end. didn’t know how to finish 💔

taglist: @deerlottie 💕

mia’s been blabbering about all the little animals and fish here at the aquarium you took her to for a date. it was something small to clear her head from whatever was going on at school, and it was obviously working.

she was more cheery than usual today which brought big amounts of relief to you. she had been much more chit chattier than most days as well. “baby? do you see that starfish over there? it has all these little brown dots and it’s called a ‘chocolate chip seastar’ or the protoreaster nodosus.” mia smiles brightly and looks at you, hoping you understood everything she said. “yeah, that’s cute.” you murmur and smile back, grabbing her hand again when she starts to wander off.

all you can really do is stare at her dumb outfit. overalls and those big hats like she was a tourist coming here for the first time. plus she had that little aquarium pamphlet at all times that was handed out when you guys came in. you threw yours away, but mia had instantly started to read through it.

she ends up leading you into those glass tunnels that give people a good view of all the shark and fish. the first one she spots is the whale shark, her blue eyes becoming all big and the pressure she has on your hand getting tighter. “ooohhh!! i love these big guys so much, babe, i think they’re my favorites out of every other one…” mia blurts.

you watch her eyes follow the dang thing around as it swims inside slowly. “because of their size they move superrr slow. i think at least 3 miles an hour.” her voice is slightly high pitched, and thats how you know she’s excited. the white of her knuckles while she grips your hand confirms what you think as well.

“oh! and these leopard sharks… they have a seventh sense! it can help them detect EMF fields in the water and they have teeth on their skin.” while she talks, all you can do is admire the way she looks and how she’s confident enough to talk about what she likes with you. that’s all that matters to you in a relationship.

“t- that’s really, really cool, mimi…” you muster up, a hot red flush rising up your face and a nervous smile crossing it. it’s not normal for you to get nervous around someone, but this feeling was incredibly different. “i appreciate you telling me about this.” you mumble, your words coming out all mushy and soft. something about this just makes you feel all tingly inside.

her eyes are all big, just like yours, her jaw slightly slack at the thought of you being anxious around her. “are you… are you nervous? around me?” mia laughs quietly and takes both of your hands into hers. her touch is soft like it always has been, her fingers running over your palm carefully.

“yes?! no! i- i don’t know! i just think you’re really pretty talking about all your nerdy stuff like that!” you blurt out and quickly let go of her hands, yours flying over to cover your mouth. there’s an even darker shade of red that washes over your face again and you can’t help but look away towards the sharks and fish.

“right… cause whale shark talk makes you nerves go off.” she scoffs, but softens up when she realizes that you’re actually feeling this way around her. the anxious fidgeting with your fingers and the constant stutters she hardly noticed. you’d think after at least 2 months of dating her you’d be able to hold them in. “y’know, i’ve always been super nervous around you too.” mia whispers.

“yeah, sure.”

“i’m serious. you should’ve seen me when i started talking to you.” her eyebrows cock up for a second and she cups your cheek with her hand, slowly turning your head to the side so you can look at her. your arms cross over your chest and it feels like a bunch of words are stuck in your throat.

“guess that makes us a perfect pair?” mia giggles and looks up at you, her face inching just a smidge bit closer. her lips ghost over your skin and all the nerves paint themselves on your face, making it more obvious. “yeah! we’re perfect..”

[freesia-writes]

I'm lobbing this right back to your ask box, because the questions were great, and I'd love to know your answers!

Ok. So. If someone wanted to read your works…

Which do you think is your best piece and why? You can split the answer into short and long fics if you want. 😜

Which do you think is your most delicious, sexy, satisfying piece of smut?

Which do you think has the most intimate/immersive POV of a character, like really takes you in their heart and mind and makes you feel what they feel? Takes you on the ride with them?

And which one do you think everyone should read? I know, choosing one is torture. 😉😘

I should be going to bed right now but my brain is a steam engine and this train of thought is CHUGGIN. 😂 So. Since you had such amazing answers for your own...

Which do you think is your best piece and why?

Honestly... Beyond the Shadow of a Doubt, the Hunter x OC longfic that I worked on for 9+ months, because it's intricately cohesive, intentionally structured from start to finish, and amazingly enriched with fanart, mood boards, and other stuff that makes it completely immersive. I'm really proud of it. 🥹 It's got plot twists but doesn't leave the reader feeling stupid (*coughTBB*), has fully developed and very unique characters that are also relatable (I hope), and I think (and have been told, lol) that the characterization of the Batch is dead-on and their family dynamics are absolutely delightful. It feels weird to speak freely about its strengths, but we should be able to do that without it being braggy. So, it's amazing in a lot of areas and definitely needs work in others (like me, ha).

Which do you think is your most delicious, sexy, satisfying piece of smut?

*dons monocle to consult @spicy-clones master list*

Shoot, I guess I have to say Sharp Edges, the Crosshair x Reader longfic I wrote with @lightwise. There are quite a few smut scenes, but what makes it fantastic is that it starts off hot and shallow, then evolves and deepens in areas beyond just the physical to lead to a really satisfying climax (hahaha). And it's a really good story -- after all, when you get two author brains on a project, it's that much better! Tons of character development, funny dialogue, and an excellent fix-it ending. 😉

Which do you think has the most intimate/immersive POV of a character, like really takes you in their heart and mind and makes you feel what they feel? Takes you on the ride with them?

I guess I'm gonna be really redundant here... The Hunter one, because readers experience the story through his eyes (where other works are from a reader, OC, or omniscient POV). So they were hopefully just as surprised as he was at sudden plot twists, but I also tried to add just enough detail and subtle lil winks to the reader to "let them in" on some of the secrets so that they could feel shrewd and insightful without just having it all out there plainly so Hunter's the only one and the rest of us are rolling our eyes and smacking our foreheads at him the whole time. 😜 I mean, there was some of that too. 😂

And which one do you think everyone should read?

If the two pitches above for Beyond the Shadow of a Doubt didn't seal the deal, then that one is lost beyond redemption. 😜 So I have two shorties...

This Pets 4 Vets story featuring Jesse is long enough to create some chemistry, have some funny ups and downs, and enjoy a satisfying connection at the end (and some hot bangin' in the bonus chapter, LOL). I love the trope of being let in by someone who hides behind a front and this one was really enjoyable that way.

And lastly, this Tup x Reader keeps coming to mind. Idk why, but it's playful, awkward, satisfying, and sweet. The dialogue prompt was "Don't ever do that again! ...you have no idea what it does to me." And it involves his hair, surprise surprise. 😉 PLUS, I love writing "the boys", whether it's the Batch or the 501st, cause those dynamics seem to really enrich the whole thing.

Thanks for letting me ramble. 💕

AND FOR ANYONE ELSE READING, hahah, I feel like I write almost the same trope over and over, so if you have some requests that you'd like to hear in my style, but are different in content than my usual stuff, drop em in my asks!

[thelov3lybookworm]

Husband Lucien Drabble/headcanon (?)

A/n: so, as we all know how delulu i am for lulu, i like to pretend and imagine that my future partner would be the exact copy paste of lulu (please dont break my lil delulu world, i know this is highly improbable).

this lil thing is based off of a lil tiktok i saw of a dude (i dont know his name, but im pretty sure he was some actor) in an interview, and he gets a call from his wife (or partner, im not sure) and he literally pauses the interview to have a lil chat with his wifey and tells the audience to say hi too then ends the call with a lil i love you and i thought it was soo cute 🥺

and of course, i couldnt resist writing this thing

(if we wat this for the other bois, lemme know 😉)

•○🌑○•

Lucien's pov.

The meeting was going very well, and Lucien wondered why he had been so stressed out about it.

This would be a huge opportunity for his business, and he had been nervous about it, the fear of it not going well eating him alive.

Of course, Y/n was always there to soothe his worries, but he could not help but stay up long after she had gone to sleep, snoring softly, cuddled up in his arms, and fear he was nothing but the disappointment his father and brothers believed him to be.

But it seemed all his fears were in vain, because as soon as he stepped in the meeting room an hour ago, everything had to be going great.

The important official from the company Lucien was going to be partnered with- if all went well- opened her mouth, a seductive glint in her eyes, and turned to Lucien.

She had been doing that since the meeting started, and Lucien had realised she was trying to flirt with him within the first five minutes.

But she didn't get the opportunity to speak, as Lucien's phone rang at that exact moment.

The contact that flashed across the screen of his phone brought out a huge grin on his face.

My lady.

Lucien was no into the lady and lord thing, but Y/n was, and so he saved her contact as that.

Everyone paused, looking between Lucien and his phone, and he gave them an apologetic grin. "It's my wife. Hope you don't mind if I answer the call."

Lucien watched the woman's face go slack in shock, before an embarrassed blush spread on her face.

Lucien turned away slightly, ignoring his friends' glares, and answered the call.

He had never ignored her calls, and he was not going to now, meeting be damned.

"Hello, darling." Lucien mumbled.

"Oh, hi Lucien." She sounded relieved. "I thought I might have interrupted you. Have you drank enough water today?"

Lucien tried to fend off the grin that climbed on his face.

"Yes love, I drank two bottles of water from morning till now."

"Good. Wait- what time was your meeting going to start?"

"At twelve o'clock."

Lucien waited as she drew her conclusion.

"It's one o'clock now." A pause. "Has the meeting ended?"

"No."

"What? You are talking to me in the middle of the meeting right now?" Her voice increased in pitch.

"Yes."

"Oh my god Lucien, why would you do that!"

"Because you called?"

Y/n heaved a heavy sigh. "Lucien." Despite her exasperated tone, he could hear the smile in her voice, and he smiled.

"I'll call you later. Text me after you're done with the meeting."

He grinned again. "Sure love."

"Bye." She was definitely grinning now. "Love you."

"Love you too, my lady. Bye."

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

[bloodorangesoup]

Kinktober '23 Day 13 - Praise (ENHA Heeseung)

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Warnings: oral (m. receiving), vocal hee, kinda sappy hee just a lil bit

Word Count: 800

A/N: was able to keep it short this time 😀

-

Heeseung thanked God that nobody was home. It was one thing for the guys to hear him making you come but it was another for them to hear his moaning echo throughout the dorm. Even if the guys weren’t home, he was sure there would be a noise complaint from some offended elderly lady, or some pissed off neighbor jealous that they weren’t getting any. Heeseung just hoped that the noise complaint would come after he did. Not that he could pay that any mind at the moment with how you ran your hands up and down his thighs as you tried to take as much of him as you could.

“Oh my god, y/n, fuck.” His head fell back against the wall with a thump. You couldn’t tell if the groan he let out was because of you or his head, but the way his dick twitched on your tongue gave you a pretty good guess. He reluctantly lifted his head. As much as he would've loved to close his eyes and focus on the feeling, he couldn’t stop his urge to look. 

You had been on your knees for a while. Your legs had spread apart a bit to distribute some pressure off your knees. All Heeseung could focus on was your thighs to each side of you, jiggling as your body moved your head back and forth over him.

His eyes flicked up and then shut tightly as he felt his tip slide against the ribbed top of your mouth. His fingers scraped the wall behind him as he tried to grip something, anything, fighting to hold on longer. His eyes opened. He swallowed when he saw your face, your hair a mess as the short baby hairs kept moving in the way of your eyes and sticking to your forehead.

Heesung’s hand shook as he lifted it to slide the hair from your forehead. He kept his hand there, moving the hair gave him a perfect view of your face. She looks so pretty like this.

“Shit, y/n. You’re killing me.” He let out a heavy huff, his stomach jumping as he struggled to breath steady. “You’re so pretty, you know that." His gaze locked in with yours. "So beautiful. So so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” His thumb stroked your forehead. 

You took the base of his shaft that you couldn’t fit in your mouth and pumped it, squeezing him in pulses. Heeseung let out a cracked moan. You couldn’t help but think it sounded a bit like he was singing. Show off.

“Fuck, just like that. Please- ah, y/n. Please, keep- keep going. God, that’s so nice.”

Heeseung was gone. He was lost in the feeling. His head shook side to side, his body trying to handle the pressure building in his abdomen and chest, but his eyes kept going back to you.

“You know,” he groaned, “I didn’t just ask you out back then cause I thought you were beautiful.” He locked eyes with you, looking at you like you hung the stars in his sky. He let out a pained chuckle. “But, fuck, you are so beautiful.” You stuck your tongue out and rubbed his cock over it, giving him a small smile. You sucked the tip into your mouth, just enough for him to feel you hum around him.

Your fist grew slacker, giving you enough slip to stroke him faster. Your tongue stuck out, your mouth open and waiting. You let his tip sit on top of your tongue, circling it and taking every drop of precum he gave you. 

Heeseung grit his teeth. His shoulders pushed against the wall trying to brace from the attack. 

“Baby, fuck, I can’t.” His eyes shut tight as he took a shaky inhale. “Ah- feels so good. Baby, that feels so fucking good.” He rambled through staggered breaths. He opened his eyes and looked back down to you frantically as if he were begging you to save him from this. “Fuck, baby please don’t stop. I’m so close.” His moans heightened in pitch as he continued to lose his hold. 

Heeseung’s hips jerked forward. His body shuddered as he finally let go of the rubber band stretching in his abdomen.

Your name flowed from his lips in moans so strained you could barely tell what was being said. Ropes of cum shot out into your mouth onto your tongue. You looked up at his face as you continued to pump him through his high.

His face was contorted in what could have looked like pain in any other context. His eyebrows furrowed and lifted, his jaw dropped open as sounds of pleasure left his throat. You looked up at him in awe.

He looks so pretty like this.

-

A/N: thank you for reading this far! My asks and requests are open! Let me know if you want to be tagged for any future kinktober posts.

Taglist: @belladonna-is-alive