#i made this high contrast with a lot of movement

[pan-magi]

[taifenggg]

hi! 🌷 i love your scenarios so i instantly came to rq here <3

could you write about mc and the brothers having possessive s3x for the first time? their relationship is relatively new and they did it a few times, but for some reason they got jealous and the way they deal with it is by having somewhat angry / possessive s3x with reader (which is very different from what they're used to do

for example: belphie is usually lazy or slow, satan is a gentleman and spends a lot of time on foreplay, reader notices how their usual this time is almost the opposite bc the brother in question is SO jealous

idk if it made sense </3 if writing the 7 of them feels too much for you, then would mammon + satan + barbatos be okay? they're my favorites!

have an amazing day btw i love your content

Content Warning(s): NSFW obviously LMAO, hairpulling(Lucifer, Belphie), semi-public(Mammon, Asmo), overstimulation(Satan), slight degradation(Belphie), not proofread LOL

Character(s): GN!Reader(no pronouns mentioned), Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmo, Beel, Belphie, Barbatos

Authors Notes: hi there! i'm so flattered you love my writing, it means a lot! and dw I saw your other ask, so you're all good no worries about verification. nonnie, I'll do you one better and I ended up writing all the bros plus barbs as a bonus lol. enjoy!

nsfw under the cut! minors dni or i will block you :)

Reminder to abide by my guidelines for NSFW content tysm :]

Guidelines for NSFW Content [ ◇ ]

Lucifer [🦚💙]

Others keep occupying your time.

"Remind me again, who exactly do you belong to?"

Your moans are stifled as you press your face against the pillow. Lucifer's pace is relentless and although he can be rough in general, tonight feels different. There's something far more carnal and possessive in the way Lucifer thrusts into you. His movements are done so with reckless abandon, a stark contrast to how he usually takes you.

"Y-you Lucifer!" you gasp, body shaking from the intense pleasure coursing through your body. You yelp and moan out his name as he runs a hand through your scalp, pulling your face so that you're staring at him, his hands having a firm grip on your hair. "I can't hear you, louder," he commands you, your faces practically centimeters away from each other.

"You Lucifer!" you sob, feeling his large hand pressing into the small of your back, pushing you down against the mattress. Lucifer smirks, his other hand trailing down to your neck, holding you there firmly. "That's right my love, me. Not my brothers and certainly not that shady sorcerer," he practically spits out those last words. Lucifer's head falls back as he continues to thrust roughly into you, feeling himself close to his release.

You can feel yourself tightening around him, and you arch your back, body shaking as your orgasm washes over you. Lucifer lets out a low moan, making a few more shallow thrusts into you before spilling his seed into your hole. Chest heaving, he pulls out, watching with satisfaction as his release trickles out of you. Taking two fingers, he trails them up your inner thighs, causing you to jump from how sensitive you were after your high. Lucifer takes his fingers and takes the excess that spills out, prodding it back in.

"Keep that in there my love, it's proof that you're mine after all, if not, I'll have to punish you a bit more unfortunately. You can do that, can't you?"

Mammon [💰💛]

Someone thought flirting with you at the casino was a good idea.

"Dammit, you drive me crazy y'know?"

Your legs are currently wrapped around Mammon's waist, goosebumps littering your skin as you feel the wall against your back, your shirt long discarded. Your arms are wrapped securely around Mammon's neck for support. Mammon kisses you roughly, hungrily, as if he were scared of you running away or disappearing from right in front of him.

"That damn incubus," he hisses, pushing into you, "Thinking they have anything on the Great Mammon. You're my lucky charm, no one else's." His teeth scrape at your neck as he leaves mark after mark. You're pretty sure your back is rubbed raw from how fast and hard Mammon is thrusting into you, and your legs shake around Mammon's waist, but despite this Mammon holds you securely, his grip on your thighs giving you enough support.

"Mammon!" you whine, your hands tangled in his hair. Your face is pressed into the crook of his neck, and you can hear Mammon gasp, groan, and curse with each thrust he makes. Judging by how loud the two of you were being, you had no doubt that the entire casino knew that you were getting fucked hard by Mammon.

"You're mine alright? Mine, mine, mine, my treasure," he whispers in your ear, and he accentuates each of his words with a slap of his hips against yours. Your moans become louder and you can practically feel yourself on the verge of releasing onto him.

"Mine." And with one last word, Mammon makes one last thrust up into you, hitting your most sensitive spot and you practically go limp in his arms as your orgasm washes over you. Mammon's hips slowly still, and he checks over you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I won't let anyone take you from me alright? Much less some random incubus who thinks they can steal my treasure from me."

Leviathan [🐍🧡]

You showed him your duo in an online game.

"Levi, they're just a friend!" You gasp softly as he pushes you into his bathtub, a pout on his face. Immediately, he presses himself up against you, rubbing his cheek against your exposed collarbone. "I don't care," he grumbles softly, one hand snaking up to pin your hands above your head, his other hand trailing underneath your shirt, caressing your sides. "I should be the only one to carry you, not anyone else. You're my player 2, my Henry," he nips at your shoulder and you shudder, feeling yourself grow aroused from the close proximity and from his touches.

"I don't care if they're ranked number one, I'll prove I'm better than them by beating them!" His pupils are dilated as he looks at you below him, and he can't help the sudden ache and the growing tent in his pants. Gasping softly, he starts grinding up against you, and you can't help but reach up for him, pulling his hips flush against yours, in search of some very much needed friction to relieve the tension you're feeling.

Both of your gasps can be heard, and you're pretty sure that if Levi didn't soundproof his room, anyone walking outside could probably hear just how heated the two of you were getting. You tighten your grasp on him, your hands snaking up to tug at the back of his hair cause Levi to moan against you as he kisses you roughly.

You stare up at him blearily, not even realizing when he shifted into his demon form. Shivering, one of your hands move from the back of his head, down to his abdomen and Levi jerks in your grasp, a flush painting his pale face.

"Do you know how badly I want you? Please don't give your attention to others, just stay focused on me."

Satan [😾💚]

Gets riled up because he sees Lucifer closer to you than he'd like.

Your chest heaves from exertion as Satan brings you to your umpteenth release. Your legs are shaking from overstimulation and you're pretty sure you've lost count of how many times Satan has made you come. His bangs stick to his forehead as he dives back between your legs, sucking marks along your inner thighs, his grip digging into the flesh of your thighs.

Your hands make their way to his hair, tugging on the golden strands and you feel Satan groan, his moans sending vibrations down your core. He looks up at you, pupils dilated. "Satan no more please! I can't take it anymore," you whimper softly, feeling tears prick at the edge of your vision. Satan only laughs looking up at you, using a hand to push his hair out of his eyes. "Nono, we're not finished yet," his voice is dangerously soft as he stares at you, body trembling underneath his gaze. His nose wrinkles and his eyes narrow as he pulls your bottom closer to him, once again positioning himself between your legs. "I can still smell him on you and I intend to erase every trace of Lucifer from you, from your mind, and from your body. Understand?"

You slowly nod, your thighs quivering either from anticipation or overstimulation, you weren't sure at this point anymore.

Satan smiles as he licks a stripe up where you're most sensitive, and your body jerks still sensitive from all your orgasming from earlier. You squirm to get your body away from him but his grip holds tight to you.

"Stay right where you are. I thoroughly intend to take my time with you tonight."

Asmodeus [💋🩷]

Your fans started getting too touchy with you.

Asmo isn't one to get jealous easily....not usually.

However, today was supposed to be about just you and him and it frustrated him to no end seeing your fans flock over to you, occupying all of your time. Asmo's eyes narrow as he watches them practically latch themselves onto you, and you barely pushing them away, laughing it off lightly. You're shocked by his sudden actions, grabbing your wrist and pulling you away from the crowd and down a secluded alleyway. His silence is rather unsettling, and there's a strange gleam in his eyes.

.....

"A-Asmo slow down!" You gasp out, feeling your back pressed against the wall, and Asmo's gaze trained on you, his hands sliding up your arms, pinning them above your head. You shiver, feeling his breath grace the outer shell of your ear, and you unintentionally tilt your head to the side, giving him more room to slot his face into your neck.

"Do you love me?" His question catches you off guard and you stare at him quizzically. "What? Of course I do." you frown slightly pulling on your hands, but Asmo holds your hands in place firmly. He presses his body against yours, and you gasp slightly, feeling his knee pressing against your crotch. "You sure seemed to be having fun entertaining those fans of yours. While I don't mind everyone fawning over you, today was just supposed to be about me and you was it not?" He has a slight pout on his face, lip jutting out.

You stare at him incredulously, eyes wide. If you were being honest, Asmo was adorable, especially with that little pout on his face. "It's not like you to be this jealous," you laugh a little, your face flushing. You feel him press your body more against the wall, and you have to suppress the urge to let out a moan as he continues grinding his leg against where you're most sensitive. His hand snakes past the waistband of your pants and you nearly keel over from his touch, leaning against him for support.

"I'm only like this for you, and no one else."

Beelzebub [🍔❤️]

His Fangol teammates were far friendlier to you than he'd like.

Your throat is sore, but that's a given considering you had spent the good part of the last few hours screaming out Beel's name, cheering him on after he scored point after point. What you certainly didn't forsee was you practically folded over one of the benches in the locker room, Beel holding one of your legs wide open as he thrusts into you roughly. The way you're positioned, if someone were to open the door to the locker room would end up seeing you sprawled out as Beel rammed himself against you.

"S-slow down Beel! It's too much!" Your head falls back, and you feel like you're being split apart by how big he is. Normally, Beel is much more gentle, taking his time with you but it seems that in the heat of the moment, he chose to forgo any sense of moderation.

"I don't like that my teammates got too close to you," he grunts, hips stuttering as he pulls you closer, his chest heaving from exertion. Ah that's right, he's referring to his teammates that immediately crowded around you to thank you for cheering so fervently for them. You remember the way Beel watched you from outside the crowd, his expression unreadable. You can recall conversing with his fellow teammates before feeling a pair of hands loop around your waist, pulling you towards them....which somehow led to the situation that you were currently in.

Beel's grip on your thigh is borderline painful, and you're sure that there'll be marks there come tomorrow from how roughly he's currently manhandling you. You reach up grasping at his arm, momentarily causing his movements to falter as he looks at you, temporarily shaken out of his frenzy. "Beel slow down please, I swear I only have eyes for you," you whimper softly, your legs shaking. His expression softens as he stares down at you, leaning over to press an apologetic kiss to your forehead. His motions are slower now, you notice, and there's a tenderness in the way he holds onto you now, one hand pressed against your waist, the other still holding onto your thigh but much less tight now.

"Sorry, you drive me crazy. I promise I'll make this up to you later."

Belphegor [🐮💜]

Your project partner was getting too buddy-buddy with you.

"Hahh, fuck you're so tight~"

Belphie practically hisses this in your ear as he sinks into you, bent over one of the desks in an empty classroom. The surface is cold against your front, your RAD uniform unbuttoned, and shirt pushed up as Belphie leans entirely against you. Your knuckles are white from how hard they're gripping the desk, meanwhile, Belphie has a good grasp on you from behind, his hand tugging at your scalp.

Your back arches as he thrusts into you, using your head as leverage, and you're pretty sure everyone outside has a pretty good idea of what's going on, based on how loudly the desk is scraping against the floor. Your gasp, shoulders hunched as you hold onto desperately to the desk. Belphie's tail flicks irritably as he watches your expression. "Enjoying this are you? Do you really like everyone outside knowing how I'm using you right now? Let them know how desperate you are for me to fuck you dumb like this. Go on, moan louder why don't you."

Your heart pounds in your chest and you let out shuddering breaths as Belphie's hips snap against you, hitting your most sensitive spots. He leans over, whispering in your ear, "The door's unlocked, and anyone could walk in right now and see the two of us like this. Are you getting off to this? To the idea of others seeing what a mess you are right now? Well, that's too damn bad because no one can have you like I can, and certainly not your project partner....what's their face?" He practically spits out, and you can feel the jealousy practically dripping off of him.

"Thinking they're better than me, too bad they'll never get the chance to see you like this. Oh well, you'll behave for me won't you?"

+ Bonus

Barbatos [⌛🖤]

The Young Master was occupying too much of your time.

"Apologies, I'm afraid I won't be able to restrain myself tonight."

You stare at Barbatos confused, watching as he approaches you at the foot of the bed, smoothly pushing you down in one swift moment with one hand. The other lifted to his mouth as he bites at the finger, and pulls it off just as swiftly. Your mouth is agape as he switches hands, holding you down with ease as he removes his other glove.

"As much as I'd like to thank the young master for consistently inviting you over for tea, I will admit there are times when it was just the two of us without his presence." His hands trail your figure, and you're not quite sure what it is about him tonight but he seems.....different. He's far more forward, taking the initiative rather than waiting for you to take the lead. You gasp as you feel his mouth on you, his teeth scraping along your neck. You gasp, leaning away so he has more room to do as he pleases.

"Barbatos-" He presses a finger to your lips, effectively shushing you. There's just something that turns him on so much, seeing you underneath him so helpless and pliant. His nose is wrinkled slightly as he gazes at you. You lay there, back arching as Barbatos has his way with you, cold hands caressing you, but not touching you where you ached for him the most.

"Hush now, let me take care of you, my love."

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[logansargeantsbabymom]

part 2 to you shouldn’t have done that

Anything for you pookie 😘

I’m Yours, Only Yours

Lando Norris x Oscar Piastri x Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader

warnings: lots and lots of dirty sex

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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The room was thick with the smell of sex and sweat as me and my sexy 3 boyfriends lay entangled, catching our breaths. I, still riding the high of my long-denied orgasm, felt a buzz of excitement at the prospect of more punishment. I loved the way my boyfriends took control, and the thought of being at their mercy again made my pussy throb with anticipation.

Lando, the less dominant one, wasted no time in continuing the discipline. He whispered in Logan's ear, chastising him for letting me cum. "You know the rules, Logie. Now, you'll have to be punished alongside our little brat." Logan visibly shuddered at Lando's words, his blonde hair falling into his eyes as he nodded in acceptance of his fate.

As Lando turned his attention back to me, Oscar stepped forward, a devilish glint in his eye. He wanted a piece of the action, and he knew just how to make Logan pay.

"Get on your knees, Logan," Oscar commanded, his voice strong and authoritative. "It's time for you to worship my cock while Lando takes care of our naughty girl."

Logan, his face flushed with desire and shame, did as he was told. He positioned himself on his knees in front of Oscar, his blue eyes fixed on Oscar’s big, thick, hard, aching cock.

Meanwhile, Lando had me flat on my back, my wrists bound above my head with a silk tie. My breasts heaved as I panted, my nipples tight and erect from the cool air conditioning on my sweat-covered skin.

Lando relentlessly teased me, running his fingers lightly over my sensitive body, all but avoiding my aching pussy that desperately craved his attention.

"Please," I managed to whimper, my eyes closed in pleasure as Lando's fingers danced over my skin. "I've been so good, please let me cum again."

"Shhh, my darling," Lando chided, his voice soft but firm. "You know you've been naughty, and brats don't get to cum unless we say so. Besides, I think you'll enjoy this punishment even more than the last."

As if to emphasize his point, Lando trailed his fingers lower, teasing the insides of my thighs, inching closer to my wet, willing pussy. With a swift movement, he plunged two fingers inside me, making me gasp and buck my hips.

Across the room, Oscar had positioned himself on the bed, his legs spread wide as Logan knelt between them. Logan took Oscar's cock in his hand, stroking it slowly as he leaned in to flick his tongue across the head.

"That's it, boy," Oscar growled, his eyes half-lidded as he watched Logan work. "Suck it like you mean it."

Logan took Oscar's length into his mouth, sucking and bobbing his head up and down, his blonde hair falling around Oscar's thighs. Oscar moaned, tangling his fingers in Logan's hair, urging him on.

I, unable to look away from the erotic display, felt my pussy clench around Lando's fingers. "Fuck, that's hot," she breathed, her eyes glazing over with desire. "I want that. I want you both to fuck me while Logan watches."

Lando chuckled, his fingers stilling inside of me as he teased my swollen clit with his thumb. "Is that so? You want to be double-fucked while our little pet watches? Maybe we'll let him join in, but only if you beg nicely.”

I couldn’t help but whine, bucking my hips against Lando's hand. "Please, please fuck me. I'll do anything. Just don't stop."

Without warning, Lando removed his fingers from my dripping pussy, earning a whimper of protest from me. "Looks like someone needs to be reminded of her place," he smirked, lining himself up with my entrance.

As Lando thrust into me, filling me up deliciously, Oscar's cock disappeared down Logan's throat, causing him to gag slightly. The contrast of sensations—the stretch of Lando's cock inside me and the tightness of Logan's mouth around Oscar—had all of us moaning in pleasure.

Lando set a relentless pace, pounding into me as I writhed beneath him. With each thrust, my breasts bounced, my hard nipples begging to be sucked. Oscar noticed, reaching out to pinch and twist them, making me cry out.

"That's it, baby, take it all," Oscar encouraged, his voice hoarse as Logan's mouth worked its magic.

"Your tight pussy feels so good around my cock."

I could only nod, my mouth hanging open as I struggled to form words. The pleasure was overwhelming, and I felt myself teetering on the edge of another orgasm, but I knew Lando wouldn't let me fall over that precipice just yet.

True to form, Lando slowed, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back into me, making me cry out in frustration. "Not yet, my little duckling. We're going to draw this out, make you work for it."

As if to emphasize his point, Lando withdrew completely, leaving me feeling empty and desperate. I whimpered, arching my back in an attempt to draw him back in.

"Please, Lando, I need it," I begged, my eyes wild with need.

Lando chuckled, exchanging a knowing glance with Oscar. "I think she's learned her lesson, don't you?"

Oscar grinned, pulling his cock out of Logan's mouth with a wet pop. "I believe she has. Let's give her what she wants, shall we?"

With that, Lando and Oscar positioned themselves on either side of me, their cocks poised at my entrances. On a count of three, they plunged into me, filling me up completely.

I screamed, my eyes rolling back in my head as the dual sensation overwhelmed me. I felt stretched to my limit, impaled on their cocks, and I loved every second of it.

Logan, his own cock hard and leaking despite his earlier release, watched with a mix of envy and desire. He stroked himself slowly, enjoying the show as his friends fucked their shared girlfriend with abandon.

Lando and Oscar found a rhythm, thrusting in sync, their balls slapping against my sensitive skin. My body shook with the force of their thrusts, my breasts bouncing wildly, as I screamed for more.

"That's it, take it, you little slut," Lando growled, his hands gripping my hips tightly. "You're ours to do with as we please."

"Yes, yes, fuck me, own me," I chanted, my head thrashing from side to side as I lost myself in the pleasure. "I'm yours, only yours."

Oscar, his eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing into my willing body, felt his control slipping. "I'm close," he grunted, his hips stuttering as he teetered on the edge.

"Not yet," Lando panted, slowing his thrusts. "We're all going to come together. I want to feel you explode inside her while I claim her tight pussy."

With a final, fierce thrust, we all came. my body convulsed as I rode out my orgasm, screaming their names. Their hot cum filled me up, spilling out around their cocks as they pumped their release into me.

Collapsing in a sweaty, satisfied heap, we lay entwined, catching our breath.

My body still buzzing with pleasure, felt myself drifting off, a satisfied smile on my face.

Little did I know, my punishment wasn't over yet. As I slept, Lando and Oscar shared a knowing glance, devious smiles playing on their lips. Logan, his own cock still hard and aching, found himself the subject of their whispered plans. It seemed the tables were about to turn, and he was about to experience the true meaning of orgasm denial.

But that, my friends, is a story for another time...

——————

taglist:

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[awesumsaus]

cave

wc: 6.5k

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

part two of pretty when I cry

summary: Ever the man of his word, your boyfriend Joel finally fulfills your need to have him claim that secret little part of you.

a/n: welcome back besties. thank you so much to everyone that checked out part one, I seriously can’t believe the response it’s gotten. again please heed the warnings and skip of you don’t think this is for you. otherwise hope y’all enjoy my absolutely depraved writing 

warnings/tags: explicit 18+ (minors dni), no outbreak au, softdom!joel, very needy/emotional reader, joel can pick reader up (I’m convinced this man could lift anyone), smut smut smut literal porn (ok a TINY bit of plot), established relationship, age gap (not really mentioned in this one), so much daddy kink, dd/lg dynamics, tiny bit of degradation kink, whole lot of praise kink, joel tummy™️, spanking, unprotected pinv, oral (m receiving), plug use, ass eating (brief), anal sex, subspace, joel is still a consent king, fluffy aftercare (these bitches are in love)

It wasn’t until two weeks later that either of you brought it up. You’d been thinking about it, that morning, admittedly far too often. The way his fingers and tongue explored the very hidden spots of your body, pushed the limit of what you can and can’t handle. But you couldn’t ask him, couldn’t be the first one to bring it up. It was the game the two of you played, you being far too shy to voice this filthy little need, and Joel far too teasing to give it up without you asking.

But it was becoming unbearable, thoughts of him arising at the most inopportune times, whether that be when you were laying in bed at home, alone while Joel was working a double shift, or at work when there were millions of other tasks you should be focusing on, but all you could think about was your boyfriend finally claiming that secret little part of you. 

And so tonight you’d decided to put an end to your suffering, devising your own little plan to set things in motion, one that you were comfortable with, and that you knew Joel wouldn’t object to. 

The two of you were getting ready, having made plans to meet Joel’s brother for dinner at 7. It was already 6:30 by the time you finished your hair, still dressed in nothing but one of Joel’s t-shirts and a lacy thong. Usually, your lateness was just a result of you losing track of time, trying to tame flyaways, or pausing to belt out one of the songs that came up on your playlist. Little did Joel know that this time around you were stalling, working up the courage to present him with your latest purchase. 

You glance over to the open vanity drawer, and a tinge of excitement spreads up your spine when you see it. A small thing, silver all except for the red heart-shaped jewel at the end of it. You reach for it, the metal cold against your fingertips, a contrast to the heat that spreads up your neck at the thought of what comes next. 

Running your hands through your hair one last time, you exit the bathroom to see Joel, fully dressed and rummaging through one of his dresser drawers. The way the fabric of his dark green sweater stretches around his broad shoulders makes your stomach flip. 

You pad over to him, hands held behind your back, clearing your throat and he turns. He immediately registers the hesitance in your movements. “I um- I got you something.” You look up at him through your lashes, putting on your most innocent guise. 

“S’ that right?” He quirks an eyebrow, already holding back a smirk. His focus turns to his wrist, snapping in place the silver band of the watch you’d gifted him this past Christmas. It was a simple thing, nothing too fancy. You would’ve gotten him something nicer, something more high-end, but the year-end bonus you’d been hoping for never came. Still, Joel insisted that it was the greatest gift he’d ever been given, bullshit, but it still put a smile on your face whenever he wore it. 

“You promise you won’t laugh?” His smirk widens. 

“Why would I laugh?”

“Just promise!” You frown at him before giving his chest a little shove, but he’s quick to respond, grabbing your wrist and pulling, closing the space between you.

“Promise.” You say it softer this time, looking up at him, ignoring the way your thighs instinctively clench from how far you have to bend your neck just to meet his gaze. 

“I promise.” He plants a kiss on your forehead, his expression softening. “I won’t laugh.”

And he doesn’t. In fact, his smirk falls completely when you reveal what’s in your free hand, extending your palm to him. He takes it from you, turning it over in his fingers, something darkens in his eyes. 

“Dirty little girl,” he says under his breath, his attention still focused on the small metal plug in his hand. He turns away from you for only a moment to grab his phone from the dresser. 

“What are you doing?”

“Textin’ Tommy that we’re gonna be late,” he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“No wait, I’ll be quick. I’m almost ready-“

“Uh-uh, baby.” He takes exacting steps towards you, forcing you to retreat backward, nearly falling over when your calves meet the edge of his bed. “Not goin’ anywhere yet.” He swiftly turns you, manhandling you against his chest, and dips his mouth to your ear. “Bend over.”

A shiver runs down your spine, yet you can’t ignore the heat continuing to spread across your face. “R-right now? Joel, are you serious?”

“You bet I am.” His hand comes down with a firm slap to your ass and you gasp, the arm he’s looped around your midsection keeping you from falling forward onto the bed. Wet drips from your core when he does the same to the other side. “Thought you were gonna get away with this, baby? F’ you’re gonna act like a fucking whore, I’m gonna treat you like one. Bend over.”

You shudder slightly at his words, but do as he says, slowly lowering your upper half, whining when he pushes you the last few inches, your brain already gone fuzzy from the roughness of his movements. A part of you expected this, knew that Joel wouldn’t accept your gift and just move on with the rest of the night. So it’s no surprise that when he pulls your thong to the side, your pussy is already glistening with slick. 

“Jesus, baby,” he lets out a breath behind you, running his knuckles along your seam making you shiver. “Always so fucking wet, so ready f’ me.”

“Just for you, Daddy,” you sigh against the mattress, rocking your lower half back, seeking friction. 

Joel lets out a strangled grunt from behind you, one hand squeezing your ass cheek. It’s taking everything in him not to ruin you right then and there, but he restrains himself, knowing that the two of you wouldn’t make it out the front door if he gave in. 

You suck in a breath when the cold metal presses against your cunt, slipping through your folds with ease, gathering slick. “Gonna be able to behave yourself at dinner, baby? Don’t want Tommy gettin’ suspicious.”

You whimper slightly as the tip presses into the cleft of your ass, squirming at the action and the almost belittling tone of his voice. “Don’t want him to know how much of a goddamn slut you are for me, huh?” He delivers another stinging slap just as the plug breaches your tight hole. “Answer me.”

“I-I’ll behave!” The words tumble from your mouth. “I’ll be good, daddy- p-promise.”

“I know, baby. Always such a good girl f’ me.” His words are so dizzying you don’t even realize that he’s fitted the plug completely inside of you until his knuckles graze your ass. It’s not what you had expected, not painful or uncomfortable in any way. It feels good, being this full, the slight stretch making your lower half shake with anticipation. 

“That feel okay, pretty girl?” His voice softens the same way it always does when he’s checking in with you. 

“Mhm,” you nod against the mattress, a content smile spread across your face. 

“Good. Now go get dressed ‘fore Tommy starts askin’ questions.”

He plants one last slap on your bottom, softer than the others, but the way it reverberates across your skin and through the toy now deep inside you makes you gasp, your senses now on high alert. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought.

You make it through the better part of dinner without any slip-ups, just a regular evening with your boyfriend and his brother who you’ve come to befriend over your time knowing him.

You’re barely paying attention, focused on the story Tommy is telling when Joel curves a finger through the back loop of your jeans and pulls. You choke on your water at the sudden feeling, the seam of your jeans digging into you, pressing tightly against the toy you’d nearly forgotten about at this point. Something white-hot shoots up your spine and settles in your lower belly. Tommy pauses and shoots you a worried look as you cough unexpectedly, obviously unaware of Joel’s actions. You notice Joel holding back a smirk from the corner of your eye. 

“Woah- hey, ya alright darlin’?” Tommy asks, looking to Joel who’s started patting your back softly, a forced expression of concern written across his features. It takes everything in you not to slap the look right off his face then and there. 

“I’m fine, yeah- sorry.” You try to ignore the obvious blush spreading across your cheeks, still attempting to catch your breath while also fighting against the growing heat pulsing through your core. 

“You sure, honey? You’re all flushed,” Joel says. 

“Said I’m fine,” you almost snap at Joel, immediately regretting your tone when he shoots you a warning look, a brow raised as if daring you to continue.

“Sorry, Tommy.” You turn to the younger Miller, disregarding the way Joel’s palm has started kneading the flesh of your lower back, only making your head spin more. “Please go on. I’m alright.” He looks between the two of you a bit hesitantly for only a moment before continuing his story. 

And suddenly it’s all you can think about, the feeling of the plug pressing into your most sensitive spots, the fullness of it all, only made worse by Joel’s continuous teasing, his seemingly harmless touching. 

When you finally make it to Joel’s truck after bidding Tommy goodnight, you’re an absolute mess. Practically soaked through your panties, squirming against the leather of your seat. And Joel knows, revels in it, confirmed by the shit-eating grin he exhibits the entire ride home, while his hand softly grips the plushness of your thigh, only deepening your need. 

You’re on him as soon as you pass the threshold of his front door, clawing at his chest, a rabid little thing. He appeases you almost instinctively, pushing you against the opposite wall and pinning your wrists by your head as he roughly presses his mouth to yours. You writhe against his grip, whimpering when he takes his free hand to angle your jaw upward, giving his tongue access to plunge deep into your mouth. You hook a leg around his waist, grinding against his thigh, and finally, a tiny ounce of your ache dissipates. 

But just as quickly as it started, Joel removes himself from you, turning away and walking into the living room. He plops down on the couch, kicking his shoes off and leaning back against the cushions. The look on his face is maddening, cocky son of a bitch.

“C’mere,” he says from his seat on the couch, his legs spread wide. If you weren’t so painfully desperate you’d refuse him for being so smug, but luckily for Joel, you need him about as much as you need air to breathe in this moment. 

You can’t help but eye the growing tightness in his jeans as you approach him, the sight making you a little dizzy in your movements. He stops you when you attempt to straddle him, placing a hand firmly on your lower belly, and looking up at you with a devilish smile. He toys with the hem of your shirt between his fingers. Off. It’s all the command you need before crossing your arms over your body and lifting the fabric from your torso. 

Your shirt’s not even pulled over your head before his deft fingers are unbuttoning your pants and tugging them along with your panties down to your ankles. He leans forward, gripping your calf, and helps you step out of them, popping your shoes off in the process, and quickly tosses your clothes aside. His hand travels up your leg, sending goosebumps across your bare skin. A small yelp escapes your lips when he pulls you onto his lap by the back of your thigh, but you quickly melt into him as your knees sink into the couch on either side of him. 

He runs his hands up and down your sides and you shiver. “So sensitive, baby,” he tsks. You can’t help the blush that spreads across your cheeks from your desperation. It was pathetic really, how much you need him in this moment, how much your body craved even his lightest touch. It was pathetic really, how much of your need now dripped onto his still-clothed crotch, soaking through the material. 

His hands move to cup your tits, thumbing your already peaked nipples through the thin fabric before expertly unclasping your bra, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothing. You’re suddenly all too aware of how clothed Joel is, a stark contrast to your naked form, yet the image sends another wave of slick weeping from your core. You allow your head to fall forward onto his shoulder, mouthing at his sweater to muffle your cries, when he tweaks one of your nipples between his fingers. 

“Sh, I know. I’ve got you, little one.” He continues his slow torment, smoothing his hands along your bare skin, his smirk growing with each of your whines and whimpers. You’re like putty in his hands, completely at his mercy, a plaything for him to do with what he pleases. Your breath hitches when his hands travel to your ass, two of his fingers pressing lightly against the now exposed plug, sending a jolt through your whole body. 

He brings his mouth to your ear, nips at it, before whispering “You want me to fuck you here, baby?“ He says it like a secret, only for the two of you to ever hear. That’s when everything starts to ache, the feeling in your lower belly so warm and unfurling, that you fear you may start sobbing if he doesn’t end his teasing soon. 

“Please, daddy.” You sniffle into the spot connecting his neck and shoulder. “Want it so bad, please.”

“Such good manners, baby.” One of his hands slides up your back to the nape of your neck where he grips you, pulling you back to meet his gaze. “M’ gonna give you what you want, sweet girl.” Your heart rate quickens, excitement bubbling in your chest.

“But not tonight.”

And just like that your heart sinks, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes at his sudden declination. You’d feel foolish for it, overly emotional if it wasn’t Joel’s lap you were sitting on. He knows how you get, how reactive you can be, especially when you have your heart set on something. You shake your head and lean away from him, your eyes casting down to your lap, shame beginning to bubble in your chest. You have the sudden urge to cover yourself, wrapping your arms around your chest, a little voice in the back of your head telling you that it’s your fault, that you’d done something wrong to make him deny you, deny himself, of this. 

“Hey,” he says it so so softly. His hands run up and down your biceps, as if he’s attempting to pull your focus from the insecurities he knows are settling in your brain “I’m not doing this to punish you, understand?” You sniffle again, a tear threatens to fall from your lower lashes. 

“Look at me,” he says sternly. You reluctantly meet his gaze. “Tell me you understand.”

You want to shake your head no, want to beg him to change his mind, whine and pout until he gives you what you want, but as much as you know Joel’s a man of his word, you also know he’s nearly impossible to sway once his mind is made up. 

“I understand.”

“Good.” 

He gives you a moment to collect yourself, thumbing your tears away and pulling you back against his chest. You unwrap your arms from yourself, instead latching them around Joel’s neck. “I’m gonna give you what you want, baby. Just gotta have some patience. Want this to be good for you.” He rubs your back soothingly, kissing your temple. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

You can’t help the huff that escapes your lips at his words, because you like the hurt. Like being subject to his each and every desire, surrendered entirely to his control. Joel knows this, knew this from the first time you’d slipped and called him daddy while he fucked you into his kitchen counter, knew this when the next morning he caught you in his bathroom mirror, smiling at the finger-shaped bruises burgeoning across the flesh of your hips. 

Joel knows you like the hurt, and part of him can’t deny how utterly irresistible he finds you when you beg him to push just a little further, to be a little rougher. But he also knows where to draw the line, never inflicting enough pain to outweigh the pleasure he brings you. He’s had experience with establishing this limit, but never in past relationships had he found anyone to be as persistent as you, as stubborn, as needy. And though it isn’t always obvious, he needs you just the same. It’s what frustrates him the most, not your neediness, but the way in which it clouds his judgement, makes him forget how fragile you can be. So he wouldn’t, not tonight, not until he’s certain you won’t break. 

“Poor baby,” he coos when you grind down on his bulge, the rough fabric against your soft folds making you gasp. “I know you’re not used to being told no, huh?”

You let out a squeaking whine when you feel the rough skin of his hand cup the entirety of your sex. You instinctively buck into his touch. 

“You want daddy to take care ‘a this for you?”

“Mhm, please,” nodding your head against his chest. You almost cry when the pad of his finger finds your clit, swiping two delicate circles before pulling away. 

“Sh sh, I’ve got you, honey.” He lifts you slightly off his lap, a strangled sound erupting from your throat at the loss of contact, but he makes quick work with his zipper, pulling his pants and boxers down just enough to free his fully hardened cock, red and pulsing in his grip. 

“Come sit on daddy’s cock, baby.” His eyes glass over as he pumps his length once, twice before urging you forward. He taps the wide tip against your clit a few times and you swear you could come just from that before he’s lining up with your entrance, coating himself with your slick. 

He lets you go at your own pace, loosening his grip on your waist as you begin to sink down on him, inch by inch. He’d usually stretch you first, make you come around his fingers once or twice before letting you take him in his entirety. But not tonight, not with the steady flow of slick that’s been gushing from your heat all night. 

You shudder once he’s fully sheathed inside you, your clit twitching against his pelvis. He lets you adjust, squirm a bit in his lap, before he’s bucking up into you, a bit of his own impatience beginning to show. 

As much as you’ve needed Joel all night, you know his teasing has had its own effect on him. He’s been itching to be inside you since the moment you presented him with your little gift, it was all he could think about the entire evening, so it comes as no surprise that his movements quickly grow hurried. He fucks up into you at a frantic pace, meeting your little bounces with increasing force.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. The combination of his cock pumping deep inside you and the toy sitting snug inside your asshole. It’s overwhelming, nerve endings you didn’t even know existed now buzzing within you. It’s only mere minutes before you’re clenching around him, right on the edge of release.

“Little cunt’s huggin’ me so tight, baby,” Joel pants, his movements stuttering. 

“Daddy-“ you gasp, “m’ ngh m’ gonna cum.”

“Fuck- that’s it baby,” he babbles, his fingers move to messily rub your clit. “That’s it pretty girl. Want you to cum on my cock then I’ll fill you up, yeah? So fucking full, baby. C’mon, cum for daddy.”

Your entire body convulses against him as you reach your peak, strings of curses and incoherent sounds slipping between your lips. Everything turns white behind your eyes, every inch of your skin on fire. He only fucks you harder, rubs his fingers against your clit faster. You don’t even realize you’re on the cusp of a second orgasm until he’s pressing his free hand against the heart-shaped jewel still sticking out of your ass, hitting something deep inside of you. Then you’re crashing down once more, sobbing as your grip tightens around his neck, completely enraptured in the feeling as he fucks up into you. 

“Good fuckin’ girl-“ a groan sounds from deep within his chest, a few more bucks of his hips before he cums, spilling into you with a slew of grunts and unintelligible praises. He only lets up once you’ve milked him dry, a combination of both your releases coating his length and further soaking his jeans. 

Joel comes back to earth first after he’s caught his breath and carefully pulled out of you. He stands and rids himself of his damp clothes, now just as bare you are, before wrapping his thick arms around you and pulling you from the couch. 

Later, after you’re both showered and Joel makes you a cup of your favorite tea, the two of you lay in bed, your head resting against his chest, tracing a finger along the broad expanse of him. You’ve committed just about every mark and freckle to memory by now from this exact spot. His hand lazily runs up and down your spine, as you mull over where things will go from here. 

A week. You talked him into a week. A week of doing exactly as he says, with no attempting to convince him otherwise. You’ll wear the plug when he tells you to, for as long as he tells you to. A week and then he’ll divulge that secret little part of you that he’s yet to claim. 

Joel lasts till Thursday. 

He’s done for the moment he arrives home from work to you sprawled across his bed, book in hand, with nothing on but a tight-fitting t-shirt and a barely-there thong. You knew what you were doing, knew it was exactly what Joel told you not to do, tempting him to go back on his word and cave. You notice his eyes darken the moment he enters the bedroom, his gaze falling to the red heart poking through the fabric of your panties. The same one he stuffed inside you before sending you off to work this morning, the one you were sorely reminded of every time you shifted too quickly in your desk chair. 

“Hey baby,” you smile sweetly at him. You swear you hear him grumble as he makes his way to the closet, pulling his sweaty work shirt off and tossing it into the hamper. You mark your page and set your book aside before stretching out across the comforter like a cat in the sun. The muscles in Joel’s shoulders tense when a soft sigh slips from your lips. 

You nearly skip over to him, wrapping your arms around his midsection before he has the chance to pull on a clean shirt. He lets out a heavy breath at the feeling of your small fingers splaying across his bare stomach. 

“How was your day?” you ask, pressing against him more firmly, your head resting below his shoulder blades. 

“Fine,” he responds, his tone suspecting. You feel his breath catch as you press small kisses to his spine. 

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today,” your voice goes softer, a hidden plea behind your words. 

“S’ that right?” His severity wanes, an opening.

“Mhm,” you hum against him, dragging your blunt nails across his skin. “Need you so bad, Daddy.”

“‘M right here, baby.” He pretends to not know what you’re talking about, unbuckling his belt and pulling it through the loops, acting like your fingers aren’t dangerously close to the waistband of his jeans. You know he can see right through you, has always seen right through you, his refusal to admit it in this moment only makes your need deepen. 

“Please, Joel,” you whine softly, errant fingertips dipping just below the waistband of his boxers. “I almost started touching myself in the bathroom today.” Your cheeks flush red at the confession, a low groan escapes Joel’s throat. “Every time I felt it, I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wish it was your co-“

You let out a small gasp when he snatches your wrist. He pauses, so still you begin to worry you’ve upset him, that you’ve pushed him too far. But then something shifts. 

Fuck it. His mouth is on you in seconds, his tongue immediately gaining access as you melt into him. It’s dizzying, one of his hands grabbing you just below your jaw, the other squeezing your ass cheek roughly. Your knees buckle just as he’s turning you around and practically throwing you onto the bed. You don’t even have time to lift your head off the mattress before he’s yanking your panties over your ass and easing the plug out of your hole. He’s quick with it, your body shivering as the cool metal slides through you, leaving an empty feeling in its wake, but it doesn’t last for long as Joel licks a broad strip through your seam to your asshole. He presses his tongue there, gauging your reaction before he’s licking into you, spreading you with his hands. At first, you squirm away, the feeling of him eating at you like this entirely foreign. But then you're rocking back into him, completely lost in the rush of his mouth against your asshole. Sounds you never knew yourself capable of filling the room as his tongue repeatedly dives into the ring of muscle.

A strangled moan leaves your lips when he pauses, you crane your neck just in time to see a string of saliva drip from his mouth directly between your ass cheeks. He rubs it into you, pushing his thumb through the ring of muscle making you whimper. 

“What d’you want?” His voice is low. His thumb starts pumping in and out of you, fast and unrelenting. 

“Daddy,” you whine, burying your burning-hot cheeks into his pillow. 

“Gonna need better than that,” he tsks, rutting his bulge into your heat. “Or else I’ll have t’ take care a’ this myself. Tie you up and make you watch.”

“Ngh, Daddy,” you moan, face burning impossibly warmer. His thumb slows, giving you a moment of reprieve to gather your thoughts. 

“Want you t’ fuck my ass- wanna feel you.”

“Jesus-“ With his hand coming down to grip your neck, he suddenly pins you to the mattress, muttering a short stay before you feel his weight lift from the bed. You hear the sound of his zipper undoing and catch him fisting himself in the corner of your eye. Your thighs tremble with anticipation as he moves to the side of the bed, planting a knee by your shoulder. Then he’s towering over you, his weeping cock right at your eye line, your cheek still pushed against the mattress, ass in the air. He looks so powerful like this, so broad and so commanding, so when he tells you to open your mouth, you don’t even have to think twice. 

“Gonna get daddy’s dick nice n’ wet, baby.” Saliva pools in your mouth, threatening to drip onto the bed when you stick your tongue out. “Then ‘m gonna wedge my cock in this tight little hole. How’s that sound?” You jolt forward when the pad of his index finger pushes into you.

“Please Daddy,” you whine. He removes his hand, immediately wrapping it around the back of your skull, his fingers tangled in your hair. His other hand grips the base of his length, tapping the red-flushed tip on your tongue a few times before pushing all the way into your mouth in one swift motion, your nose scratching against the coarse hairs at his pelvis. It had taken you months to work up to it, taking him in his entirety. The first time you blew him you’d barely been able to make it halfway down his cock before you were gagging, but not now. Now you take everything he gives you, like he’s molded your throat to the shape of him. 

“This mouth-“ he’s cut off by his own moans, erupting from deep within his chest. “Fuckin’ heaven, baby.”

Tears quickly prick in the corners of your eyes as he continues his assault on your throat. A breathy moan slips from his mouth when you gag around his length after an especially forceful thrust of his hips.

His pace slows as he thumbs away your tears. “Daddy’s been so mean, huh little one? Makin’ you wait all this time.”

You whine around his dick, the vibrations making Joel’s breath catch in the back of his throat. 

“You like when I’m mean though, don’t you? Like when daddy treats you like the little slut you are?” He delivers a harsh smack to your ass just as he pulls away from your mouth, leaving you sputtering and gasping for air. He moves to open the nightstand drawer, quickly retrieving a bottle of lube before rounding the corner of the bed, towering over you from behind. 

“Don’t need it,” you whine, head still foggy from the lack of oxygen.

“Quiet little girl.” He softly swats your ass before you hear the disappointing sound of the bottle opening, followed by the cool sensation of the liquid hitting your exposed hole. He rubs it into you, letting out a satisfied hum when he presses his thumb into your asshole with ease. And then his cock is lining up with you, it’s so fucking big, so much bigger than the plug, a small part of you starts to worry it may not fit, may be too painful. 

Like always, Joel senses your apprehension, running his large palm soothingly down your spine as he leans over you. You feel his warm breath hit your ear. 

“You tell me if it’s too much, yeah baby?” He says it only slightly above a whisper. “M’ only gonna enjoy this if you do too.”

You nod against the sheets, immediately recognizing that the action won’t be enough for Joel. “Yes, Daddy.” You crane your neck to look at him, eyes hooded and dazed. Something flashes in his expression, beyond simple desire, a need suddenly so evident in his eyes that you’d sit up and kiss him until your lips were raw if he wasn’t pushing the tip of his thick cock inside you. 

It’s so much. Even just the first inch is blinding, your vision going blurred and your senses entirely rapt with the feeling. The hurt is overwhelming, the stretch all-consuming, but it’s so good, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. 

He pushes in another inch and the pain dissipates, in its place a euphoric haze, where all you can feel is him, his weight driving you into the mattress, his hips rocking against your ass. You see stars once he’s fitted inside you, never having felt this full. 

The noises Joel is making are almost pained, his cock throbbing from the tightness of your hole, all the restraint left in him keeping him from setting a brutal pace. No, instead he moves slow, focused intently on not blowing his load every time you squeeze around him, listening to your little moans and whimpers for any signs of unease. 

“It’s a lot baby, I know,” he pants. “But you’re doin’ so good.” His praises have you reeling, furthering your dazed state. “Look so goddamn perfect takin’ all a’ me like this.”

You don’t even know what to say, all you know is that you need more, entirely lost in the feeling. You’re always insatiable, greedy, whenever it comes to Joel, and he knows, revels in the fact that he’s the one that gets to have you like this, makes you feel like this. 

You’re not even sure what you’re saying at this point, what sounds are falling from your mouth, just that Joel takes it as a sign to pick up his pace. It brings you back to earth a bit, your lower belly going taught at the force of his body against your own. 

You’re crying out against the mattress, small fingers twisting in the sheets, tears forming a wet spot beneath your chin. 

“Fuck, baby c’mere.” He suddenly pulls out of you with a heady groan and wastes no time flipping you over. He’s pushing back inside you in seconds, resuming his vigorous pace. 

“Wanna see you when I come in this perfect fuckin’ ass.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head at his words, your entire body going limp against the mattress as he uses you. When his thumb finds your clit you’re done for. The messy circles he makes send you hurtling right to the edge. With a near-scream, every part of your body goes taut for a moment before your release is shattering through every inch of your body, bursting from your core like shock waves. 

“Fuck, fuck-“ he’s repeating over and over as his own climax hits him, but you can’t even hear him, can only feel him, his body thrusting into you, pushing you impossibly further into the mattress, his hands gripping the hinge of your hips, his warm release shooting deep inside you. It’s the only thing keeping you here, prevailing against the potent haze. 

With one final grunt, he stills, his breathing ragged and sweat dripping from his forehead. You can barely move, still dazed as he pulls out of you slowly, the emptiness in its wake further graying your awareness of reality. 

You lift a shaking hand, attempting to grab at whatever part of him you can reach. “Daddy-“

He leans forward, carefully caging you in his arms. “I’m here baby, you’re okay.”

“‘M okay,” you mumble sweetly. He brings one of his hands to your hair, gently running his fingers along your scalp in a way that makes your thoughts even more fuzzy. But the heaviness of his chest against your own keeps you there, keeps you present. 

“You did so good f’ me, I’m so proud a’ you.” A tired smile spreads across your face at his words. He knows the effect they have on you, which is probably why he says it. But the sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell. 

“My pretty baby,” he kisses you softly, and you further melt into his embrace, inhaling his familiar scent, musky and woody with something distinctly Joel. The two of you stay like this for a moment, your arms and legs wrapped around his large form, what little remains of your strength focused on keeping him in place, chest to chest, a comforting pressure. 

“How do you feel, baby? You hurtin’ anywhere?” He says it against your neck, placing soft kisses to the skin there. 

“Mm”, you hum, denying, still detached from your own body, not fully registering the slight tinges of hurt spreading throughout your lower half, completely consumed with the man in front of you, the smell of his sweat still glistening across his chest, the weight of his softened cock still pulsing and twitching against your thigh. He’s everywhere, everything in this moment. 

He pulls away just enough to kiss the tip of your nose. “How ‘bout a bath yeah?” You hum in agreement, let him unwrap himself from your hold, and stand at the edge of the bed before he’s snaking an arm under your knees and back and lifting you. You instinctively curl your face into his neck, still wet with sweat but you don’t mind, nearly your whole body already covered in him. 

He sets you down on the toilet seat before moving to turn the water on, making sure it’s warm enough before plugging the drain. You sway a bit in place, thankful when Joel wraps an arm around your back to steady you. Usually by now the haze will have lifted a bit, no longer in this headspace, yet still your brain is a bit fuzzy, your thoughts and senses dulled. 

You look up at Joel when you feel his thick fingers card through your hair, unsure of when he’d gone to grab one of your hair elastics. As he gathers the strands together, you lean into him, your head resting just below his belly button, on the plush flesh of his tummy, smattered with course hairs trailing down to the base of his cock. You nuzzle into the spot, breathing him in, fully content in this moment. You feel the muscle tighten when you start to press small kisses to it. He firmly grips your now fully formed ponytail when your mouth wanders south, interrupting your descent, and you whine. 

“Settle.” You let out a short huff of breath and bring your gaze to his, resting your chin on his stomach as he loosens his grip on your hair. He shakes his head at you, holding back a smile as he finishes tying your hair back. 

He helps you step into the tub first, guiding you to sit, before he slots himself behind you with a grunt. He pulls you against him, arms wrapped around your tummy and chin resting on your shoulder. You giggle softly when the hairs of his mustache tickle behind your ear. 

He lets you sit against him for a moment before he insists on cleaning you up, lathering his soap between his hands and smoothing it along your soft skin. You start to doze off from the feeling, Joel keeping you upright against his chest. Only after the water begins to cool and your fingertips have turned pruney, Joel helps you step out of the tub, wrapping you in a towel before you start to shiver. He kisses you then, soft and slow like he could stay like this with you forever. And you would, if he wasn’t ushering you back into the bedroom, telling you to get in bed and that he’d be right back. 

He makes you drink a glass of water before taking his place behind you on the bed, his back to the headboard and the small bowl of your skull cradled against his chest. You slowly drift off to the steady beat of his heart. 

I have so many ideas for these two so lmk if we want to see more ;]

[fudgechocolatepuff]

a lovebirds bloom! 🌷

keigo t. x fem. reader | wholesome fluff :)

summary ⋆ ꪆৎ you with an unoccupied life intertwine paths with the fastest and busiest hero, where you both catch a break in your tranquil flower shop. lots of love in the air begin to unfold ꪆৎ

In contrast to the big city where everyone bustled to work in a hurry and longed for a minute more at home, you were met with a life you found quiet, but quite easy.

Fortunately, you were able to nag yourself a lovely position as a florist in a small flower shop tucked away from all the chaos that the streets carried.

You took your current job to be a gem, considering you had a never-ending obsession with flowers and bouquets since you entered high school that thankfully you kept as you approached your 20s.

Despite the fears that others had about these small jobs like lower compensation, you found peace in such a laid back and natural environment, an escape from the worldly problems that awaited you when you flipped the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’.

Of course, you were aware that the shop wasn’t very popular among those in the city, and you didn’t exactly “make bank” like you had intended to as a teen, but you still enjoyed the connections you made with your boss, your other 3 co - workers, and your clients. 

Due to the lack of popularity of the flower shop, it wasn’t normal that anyone of high status ever visited. They’d always be too busy with their inquires to bless you with their presence or had their assistants do it instead.

Until one day when you were browsing through your laptop, choosing and buying flowers from suppliers when you heard the jingle of the door bell ring faintly in front of you.

If there were anyone you weren’t expecting to walk in the shop to browse through the supply of plants, you definitely weren’t ready to see the number two hero in the country waltz through the door.

You stopped scrolling through the page you were on and stared at the hero, observing his movements in awe.

Out of all of the training your co-workers drilled into you, you had no idea how you were going to confront the winged hero.

Um, Hello?? Hero Hawks?? What brings you in our flower shop that’s literally the size of a dormitory room?? On a random sunday afternoon in the beginning of march?? What the flip??

The air of your workspace became too awkward for you to breathe in.

Gosh, it was just so random that such a well known hero like him would be in such a small flower shop like the one you worked in, the comparison was mortifying.

You knew that pro heroes existed, sure, but making interaction with them seemed like talking to someone of higher class.

Well, maybe it was like literally talking to someone of higher class, but in a scenario like this, it was 1000x more intimidating.

You watched his eyes as they glanced every few seconds in the ‘solid tones’ from the ‘pink’ selection to the ‘red’ selection, and then to the ‘baby blue’.

You weren’t the best analyst, but you quickly recognized the lost gaze he held in his eyes as he searched without a clue what he was even looking for in the first place.

It was kind of cute to see him so concentrated on some silly flowers.

Hawks then turned his head toward you and caught the admiration in your face, returning a gentle smile that made you mentally curse yourself for letting him catch you drool at him as if he were a masterpiece of art.

His revealed toned arms crossed against his chest definitely were a piece of art no doubt about that-

“ ‘scuse me, but could I steal you away for a minute? I jus’ need some help… doing all of this I guess,” the hero chuckled to you, his hand ruffling through the winded locks of his hair. 

Your knees shook at the warmth of his voice and his boyish laugh that you almost ignored the initial request all together as you treasured his being.

You swear his presence was a mesmerizing haze, leaving you dumbstruck for a few moments.

“Oh… oh! Yes, yes! I’ll be right there!” You exclaimed to him as you snapped out of your lovesick daze, skipping out from behind the register counter to resolve his flower fiasco.

You stood to his side, looking up at him with your hands clasped behind your back. “So, how can I help you today, Hawks?” 

His hesitation and ‘ah..’ that dragged out of his mouth revealed to you that he didn’t know how to start with his little issue. Poor him, you thought. Might’ve been a bizarre story for all you knew.

You assured him that you could help no matter how peculiar the situation.

Honestly, you wouldn’t mind if you had to stand there all day to listen to his melodic voice.

He put his hands in the fronts of his pant pockets as he began to explain,

“Alright, so, ya’ see, today happens to be one of my friends’ birthday, Mirko, I’m sure you know who she is, and ah.. I kinda forgot ta’ get her a present—hero duties and all, ‘course I’d forget, right?”

You nodded your head and hummed letting him know you were listening to his story.

He scratched the back of his neck as he continued,

“Only thing I can think of getting her right now are flowers, I know she likes them, but I dunno the first thing about flowers. You get where I am in this situation?” he smiled nervously, hoping you’d understand.

“Yeah, I have an idea,” you giggled, your hand making its way to cover your mouth as you poked fun at him, “kind of crazy how you would forget such an important birthday like that though.”

The hero put his hands up in defeat, “You got me there. That’s bad on my part, but at least I’m trying to salvage this,” he joked. “I’m just hung up on what to get her, I can’t picture any color, any theme, nothing.”

He turned to fully face you and tilted his head a bit to the right, a cheekier grin tugging at his lips. “Thankfully though I’ll be saved by the cutest florist who I’m sure will get me hooked up on the best selection of flowers.”

You felt your teeth suddenly grind against each other with a sharp breath you took in following after, making Hawks laugh at your stiffened reaction.

“So, what combination do you think would go well for today’s occasion?” He awaited your response with an owl-ish blink, crossing his arms again in anticipation.

Shaking off the embarrassment pooling in the core of your stomach, you took a moment to think.

‘Mirko.. although she appeared as a tough fierce woman, you personally believed she’d appreciate something elegant and light. (It made even more sense to you since the spring season would begin to bloom this week.)’

“I was thinking of something simple. Um, perhaps a pair of white roses and lavender baby’s breath..?” You searched Hawks’ eyes for any sign of approval, to which a glint in his eye shone as he looked back at you.

“I trust your judgment to whatever selection you make for me. I already know that I’ll leave this shop saved.”

His caring attributes and words were hypnotizing you as a timid smile curved at your lips and you held back the urge to utter an “awww.”

“I’ll get them wrapped up for you right now, it shouldn’t take too long.”

You still couldn’t fathom the fact that Hawks was literally the only one in the shop with you, it didn’t feel real, more like a dream where everything around you would turn into clouds and the two of you would levitate towards eachother until your lips met-

snip snip!

Hawks’ knuckles knocked rhythmically on the counter as his leaned figure watched yours snipping the stems of snow white roses.

He couldn’t help but let his eyes linger over your delicate fingers, handling the plants so well. He bet your touch was as gentle as a feather.

What was he thinking.

Hawks felt his heart tighten. He wasn’t sure if it was out of flattery, but his pinkening cheeks told him otherwise.

He should stop by this place more often.

He gulped down his thoughts, pupils looking up at you showing off your work to the hero.

The boquete was decently sized, definitely not small. The flowers were spread out and mixed evenly making the colors appear vibrant. From the stem up, the plant bunch was wrapped in a lovely baby pink sheet.

You extended your arm to his face, obliviously poking him in the cheek with the flowers as you finalize your final touches with a little ‘shift’ here and a ‘shift’ there.

“It’s not the best I’ve whipped up, but I hope this is good enough for Mirko.”

Standing up straight, Hawks took the boquete out of your hands, ever so slightly making sure to brush his fingers against yours, transferring the jolt of electricity from his body to yours.

It would be criminal to ignore a gesture like such. Who were you kidding—it left your beating heart throbbing, yearning for more contact. You had to keep it professional.

His hawk-like eyes stabbed daggers into yours, releasing a spell that couldn’t let you look away from the man in front of you.

“Knew I could trust you. Cutest flowers I’ve ever seen. They’re perfect.” he insisted, face not faltering one bit as he kept his eye contact with you—not looking away for a second—and craned his head the tiniest bit to the right to steal another flustered smile from you.

You hoped that he wasn’t talking about the flowers.

The three seconds that you and Hawks took engulfing each other in the moment felt like it lasted three years.

Yes, it was cliché, no need to yell it in your face, but it was nice. For both you and Hawks.

You had a delightful change of pace in your uneventful days, and with the most gorgeous man your eyes ever laid upon? Come on, you had to enjoy this.

You were a lovely girl to be around, really. Something about your personality just felt soothing after all the mental and physical wounds he endured throughout the years.

He couldn’t just leave it all here though. He was no casanova—quite the opposite, actually—but he knew you two had some sort of connection.

Hell, maybe he was delusional about this, but he couldn’t care less. He felt his stomach sink whenever he looked back at you, depicting whether it were butterflies or not.

He cleared his throat. “Well, thanks for the flowers, sweetheart. I better move along now, duty calls. How much do I..”

“Oh..! No, no, don’t worry about it, it’s on me this time,” You stimbled an awkward, but sincere smile as your fingers subtly fidgeted with a strand of your hair, gliding up and down the piece.

Hopefully the ‘understanding’ sprinkled into your smile would console him of his awkwardness. Even you could see it, and that was saying something.

The winged hero returned a soft grin to that, muttering a “thank you.” as he made his way to the door, his hand hovering over the handle.

He turned his head back to look at you, capturing your image in his mind so he could replay it over and over when he made his leave.

Raising your hand to wave him goodbye, you wondered when the next time you’d see him would be, or if you would ever even see him again. It felt bittersweet.

“Come back again soon.”

“I plan to do so.” He professed, pulling the door open and taking a few steps out the shop before he took off into the city, leaving you shocked and still in the shop by his bold remark.

If anyone were to be zipping through the winds at a decently fast speed, it’d be normal to be a bit cold.

But in this case, the winged hero was warming up the more your shop came out of view. He whipped out his phone from his pocket and opened his “imessage”.

hawks:

i think i just met the love of my life. and kind of ruined it sent 1m ago

rumi:

you dumbass. sent just now

a/n: longest and might be the corniest thing i ever wrote, cute tho! last part was kind of a joke, idk if hawks would acc text ppl like that. lmk if i should do another part! love uuu! 💗

[chxrrysangel]

Conflict of Interest

Pairing | Plug!Choso x fem!reader

Words | schmedium

Summary | Choso never quite does his intended job when you meet. Special treatment is what they call it, not that he’d outright admit to it. One day, you request his services outside of your normal routine. And things get, well, complicated.

Tags | 🍃, hotboxing, car sex, dub con (both parties are under the influence), overstimulation, kinda dom! Choso, no protection, praise kink, no use of y/n, overstimulation, creampie

Notes | I’ve had this in my drafts for so fucking long that I was getting sick and tired of going back to it instead of just posting. Overthinking is an understatement. (I’ll probably end up editing it again later)

You called up Choso a week early, stressed out of your fucking mind. It seemed like any problem the universe could throw at you, it did. You watched with anxious fingers tapping against the steering wheel as his deep blue car rolled into the empty parking lot. An abandoned mall is easily the best place for your exchanges, you both liked it that way.

He had his hair down today, catching you off guard for a moment. It’s not the first time he’s done it, but the stark contrast to his usual hairstyle was always surprising.

“Miss me?”, he asked with a smile as he closed the distance. You scoff and chuckle.

“I miss what’s in your bag. You’re not that special Kamo.”

“Oh but I am. We both know it.” He didn’t mention the break in routine, knowing it was probably something personal. You didn’t share much with one another, choosing the “basically strangers” dynamic to be a smarter option. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t break the agreement every once in a while. Even as he stands before the hood of your Jeep Grand Cherokee, your eyes can’t help but glance down at his playful smile when he talks or the movement of his fingers while he rolls. Your breath caught in your throat as he brought the paper to his lips, tongue flattening against its edge. Brown eyes glinted with mischief as they made contact with yours, a hum of satisfaction leaving his lips at catching you in the act. God if the earth could just open up and swallow me, that’d be great.

“Wanna smoke with me today?” You snapped out of your daze of distractions at the question, disbelief washing over your features.

“Really?” The large man shrugged, in a why not kind of way. How could you say no?

~~

Choso could taste the berry in your gloss as his lips wrapped around the blunt, inhaling the strain and feeling his chest grow warmer. It hadn’t been long, but the windows of Choso’s car had already begun to fog, despite the cracked windows.

That’s how you two spent the next hour, sharing two blunts and chatting together as your high began to wash over.

“Fuck, that’s strong.”

“Isn’t it?,” you softly whisper, head lolling towards him.

The two of you talk about anything and everything, minds expanding to limits you hadn’t even realized existed. Somehow the conversation drifted to the more personal aspects of your lives, such as your romantic lives.

“You’ve got a boyfriend?,” Choso whispered across the dash. You shook your head, waiting for his next question.

“Girlfriend?”

“If I didn’t know any better Kamo, I’d think you wanna date me.”

“God you fucking wish. Just curious.” Sometimes, you did wish. Not that he could ever know that.

“What about you, smartass. Dating anyone?”

“Nah, don’t have time for that.”

The car developed into a comfortable silence, neither of you feeling eagering to speak. It was like this with Choso, always has been. He understood the need for shutting up sometimes, no unnecessary pressure to converse.

“I think I need a haircut.” His random outburst prompted a barking laugh, caught off guard by the irrelevancy.

“I’m serious. It’s getting too long.” You looked over at him,pouting. You liked his hair, in fact you loved it. When he hung his head, the layers encased his face like a halo. It was the perfect haircut, not that you could really say so. Any allusion to your thoughts could ruin everything. So you settle for something simple.

“I like your hair.”

“Yeah?, he questions with a head tilt. You murmured a hum of agreement, leaning over the console to put a hand towards his face.

“I think your bangs could use a little trim though,” you remarked with a ruffle of his hair. You began to pull away a few seconds too late, eyes settling on his features and feeling yourself get too caught up. Choso’s eyes caught yours, grabbing your wrist to keep you close.

“Willing to cut it for me?” His eyes flickered across your features, analyzing them with an intensity you’ve never seen in him before. It was unnerving.

You nodded, swallowing a large gulp of nerves.

You sat outstretched over the console, not making any attempt to sit back properly on your side. He broke the silence before you could consider a regrettable choice, going on about munchies and making you laugh. That comment is what led to your current argument on the best type of cake as you unwrapped a cupcake in your hands.

“It’s very easily vanilla,” he argued, “it’s the most versatile option.” You scoff mid-bite.

“Didn’t know you were so boring, Kamo.” He looked offended at your comment, putting a hand on his chest like it hurt.

“Oh yeah? What’s your favorite then?”

“Red velvet. Hence why all of them are on my side of the tray.”

“You think you’re so special, picking red velvet over all the other options,” he teased.

“I know I’m special,” you mocked. Something shifted in the air when you said that, Choso growing quiet with no comeback prepared. The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

“You uh…you got something,” he whispered distractedly while leaning in. His thumb wiped at the corner of your mouth, dark eyes staring into yours. You watched as time slowed, his thumb reaching up to his lips and sucking.

“Frosting.” The two of you just stared at one another, high out of your minds and scared to breathe. Instinctively, you glance at his blush lips, not even remotely afraid that he would notice. His tongue darted out between the folds, covering the surface in spit and you nearly moaned.

“Fuck me,” you whispered to yourself, almost in pain.

He leans farther over the center console, putting a hand on your neck. Nothing was said as you stared into his eyes, bouncing back and forth between his irises as he wrestled with his thoughts. You leaned in , the gap between your lips just barely a sliver. You could kiss him easily, that much was obvious. But fear made you hesitate, breath fanning across his cheeks in anticipation of the next move.

“Choso,” you whispered in a barely audible tone.

“Don't talk,” he said before making the brave choice.

His lips capture yours, hesitant but curious. It takes a moment to find rhythm but soon you’re moaning softly into his mouth and gripping onto his arm for dear life. Choso was a good kisser, the soft muscle of his tongue bullying its way past your lips as he explored your mouth. He broke the kiss, staring at you with need. His lips were glossy with spit, pupils massive with lust.

“Back seat. Now.” You didn’t need to be told twice.

You watched as he impatiently pushed the seats forward, as far as the mechanism would allow.. He climbed into the backseat, a boyish smile adorning his features that you’ve adored from your first meeting.

“Choso, need you.”

He manhandles your body, grabbing your thighs to guide you into his lap.

Choso pushed your hips down on his crotch, your clit grinding against his rough zipper with earnestness. His plush lips peppered kisses down your neck and collarbone, smiling into your skin at the thought of seeing all this tomorrow. The two of you had crossed the line of friendship and he was quite intent on never going back now he’s gotten a taste. You whimpered, as though on the verge of tears, desperate for relief from the throbbing of your cunt.

“Oh, that’s cute.”

“Shut up. Not funny,” you retorted.

“Whatever you say sweetheart.” He thrust upwards, the outline of his erection rubbing so perfectly against your clit. A pathetically desperate whimper slips out, and he chuckles.

“I know baby, I know.” Choso continues to mark you, his featherlight touch on your skin sending tingles up your spine.

~~~

Had he not pushed his seat back, your ass would be pressing uncomfortably into the leather right now. Choso’s hands engulfed your hips, guiding you on his cock with every thrust. Your skin buzzed with the effects of indica, hot with desire as he fucked your brains out.

“Shit, Cho. So fuckin—ngh—good.” You whined into his neck, trying to muffle your sounds.

A chuckle reverberated through his body, dark with knowing.

“Don’t hide those pretty moans from me, baby. Wanna hear you.”

You leaned back, coming face to face with Choso. He was so pretty like this, a light sheen of sweat making his bangs stick to his skin in a pleasured bliss. Your pussy squeezed around his shaft, making him whine with need.

“Fuck that’s good,” he cried. Watching you bounce was like nothing he’d ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Just then, an idea formed in his mind. Choso angled his hips more upward, hitting your g-spot and pulling a pleasured sob from your lips. He watched with satisfaction as your eyes crossed for a moment, going dumb before his eyes. The glossed out look said everything, too lost in the pleasure to be remotely coherent.

“Feel good, pretty girl?” You could barely whimper out an affirmation, feeling your impending orgasm. You mewled incoherently, a jumble of curses and praise. With a shaking hand, you rubbed your clit as your stomach began to tighten in need for release.

“Right there baby. Fuck don’t stop don’t stop.”

Choso pushed off his own orgasm, wanting to watch you make a mess on his dick first. He grinned, taking in your fucked out state with great pleasure. The little you had shared with each other revealed that your sexual experience with men had been rather disappointing. Your last ex had no clue how to please you, too concerned with his own orgasm to ever worry about yours. He was selfish in that way, as well as many others.

He grabbed your hair, pulling you down in a sloppy kiss. If it wasn’t for how well he fucked, this kiss alone was enough to make your head spin. Your body felt miles away, the combination of the thc and the best fuck of your life making your skin tingle.

Your limbs began to tense, signals of how close you were. Your vision was blurry, teeth searing into your bottom lip with focus.

Choso felt your walls grow tighter, filling his chest with pride. He maintained his pace, pushing harder with each thrust. Your nails dug deep into the hard skin of his shoulders, imprinting moon-shaped marks.

“Close aren’t you?”

“So fucking close baby”. You stumbled over your response, struggling to say every syllable.

With a few more thrusts, your toes curled as you came. The squelching sounds in the car increased tenfold, a sound Choso was eager to revel in. He fucked you through your orgasm, thrusting getting sloppier by the second. His balls tightened, body buzzing as he fucked his cum into you. Before you could say anything, he didn’t stop. His mouth formed into an O, tip extremely sensitive.

“I think I can get one more out of you.”

A statement that felt more like a demand.

You began to shake your head, feeling the creeping discomfort of overstimulation begin to course through your shaking body.

He whispered sweet praises as you squirmed. Your body wasn’t sure of whether to lean into his touch or pull away, confused but pulsing with need. Your cunt choked his shaft, tense as you pushed through the masochistic pain. But soon enough that pain turned into pleasure, attempting to meet his thrusts to chase your orgasm.

He grinned with knowing, cheeky like a cat who got the cream.

“Shut up,” you uttered between gasps. He winked, satisfied with his clear victory. Even during the most intimate moments, he couldn’t help but be his usual annoying self

“Gonna cum Cho.” You whispered into his neck.

“Fuck. Can feel it. Doing so well for me, baby.”

His praise made you squeeze harder around him. Now that he’s had a taste, he’s unsure of how he’ll be able to let you go. Every touch, every look, every smile led up to this moment.

Every muscle in your body tenses as you cum, ears ringing as Choso praises you. His thumb rubs your clit in firm circles, the pleasure making your walls spasm around his sensitive cock.

“That’s it baby, doing so fucking good.” Choso slurred his words, head sensitive as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm. The base of his spine tingled, pushing him back towards the edge again. He blabbered incoherently as you came down, mumbling about how good your pussy is.

His hips stilled as he shot white ropes into you, filling your cunt with his warm seed. Your tired quick breaths as you gasped for air quickly faded into light laughter as you watched each other come down. Choso smiled lazily, dazed and completely out of it. With a delicate hand, he pushed some of your hair out of your face before pulling you in for another kiss. This one was much softer, gentle and unrushed. Romantic even.

“We just made things really complicated, didn’t we?,” you question against his lips. He didn’t answer really, murmuring in disagreement as he deepened the kiss.

“Choso! I’m serious”.

“So am I.”

[hornyfor-redacted-onmain]

May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor

Pieces of My Heart - Chapter 1 Stray Kids OT8 x reader, Soulmate AU

Masterlist | Next Chapter

When you first arrived in the city, it was in the middle of the night. The sights had blurred around you, your dinner had felt tasteless, the forced smiles to the hotel staff and strangers you boarded the elevator with making your cheeks ache. You wanted nothing more than to just crash in your bed and go to sleep, which was exactly what you did.

In contrast, the second day felt like waking up in a movie.

You would have contributed your good mood to the concert, but it wasn’t until tomorrow. There was just something about the air around you as you got up and got ready, the way that the city sounds you’re your open window made you smile instead of feeling irritated like it had last night, or the way you’re your smile to the strangers in the elevator felt a lot less forced. Maybe it was the anticipation of being in a city you had never been in before, the new sights that you hadn’t been able to appreciate the night before.

There was an extra skip in your step as you made your way out into the streets.

Your first stop was to a café you had googled the day before that was only a 15-minute walk from your hotel. It had great reviews and offered your favorite treats, so you wanted to get something to eat before you decided to visit some of the city’s landmarks.

The café wasn’t particularly full when you arrived, only 3 people in the line in front of you, but somehow the small chatter and the colorful menu managed to distract you until there was only 1 person still in front of you.

It was only then that you realized the red string that disappeared through their chest. And your heart skipped a beat.

For as long as you could remember, the floor around you was littered with red strings. When you were younger, your mother explained to you what a soulmate was, explained the stories and myths behind it, tried to explain the science behind it, but the thing that grabbed your attention the most was how insistent she was that you never tell anyone how many strings you had.

8 strings.

“Not everyone has a red string”, you remembered her telling you. “Some people have words, the first words their soulmates will say to them. Some are lucky, they have names. Some people don’t know what their soul bond is until they meet their soulmates, some never get any at all.”

“But I got 8,” You had exclaimed proudly with a smile, the excitement of having 8 people to love all you could think about. You were too young to consider the ramifications of having so many soulmates. The constant harassment you would endure, the words people would whisper behind your back.

Most people got 1 soulmate. Some were lucky, and they got 2 or 3. Not all soulmates were romantic, some platonic or even familial, but since the vast majority ended in a romantic relationship, the idea of multiple soulmates was frowned upon.

You had learned from a very young age to ignore the strings that followed you around.

But this one was impossible to ignore.

The man in front of you shifted, enough that the string followed his movement. It was leading directly to him, not just passing through. You had deduced a long time ago that your soulmates lived very far away, since their strings rarely changed directions. You had never seen it this high, never seen it move so easily, and there was no doubt in your mind that your soulmate was directly in front of you.

Your brain froze.

“Thank You! Next?”

The barista’s voice snapped you out of your stupor, and you snapped your head to the side to follow the string (and your soulmate) as it moved to the seating area of the café. You forced yourself to look away, your heart still beating hard, and impulsively ordered the first thing on the menu. You gave them your name and stumbled to an open table near the café windows, on the other side of the store from where your soulmate now sat, scrolling through his phone.

‘Talk to him’ a voice in your head screamed at you.

‘What do I even say to him?’ the logical side argued. ‘What if he had the first words soulbond? You don’t want your first words to him to be something stupid’.

The other voice grumbled in agreement, and you struggled to think of something to say. Something flirty, maybe? Or something sweet, reassuring, so you knew they grew up with kind words on them. What if they didn’t even have a first words soulbond at all? They couldn’t have an indicator type bond, otherwise they would have noticed you by now.

And like a flip had been switched, you were suddenly very aware of the other 7 strings that sprouted from your chest, and the movement that came from them. Two of them were behind you, swaying slightly as if affected by a small breeze, and the other 5 were at eye level, disappearing into the distance through the café windows, out into the city.

Not just into the distance. Up above.

All of your soulmates were here close by, possibly even in the very same city as you. The thought made your already nervous heart nearly burst out of our chest. You nearly jumped out of your seat when the barista called out your name, and you rushed to the front to grab your drink only to realize that your soulmate was no longer in the last place you had seen him.

You turned in your spot, eyes darting around frantically, and you spotted his blue jacket just as the café doors closed behind him. Through the windows, you watched him make his way to the left.

Moving so fast that your hot drink splashed against your fingers, you stumbled out of the café behind him, eyes trying their hardest to keep sight of his retreating back as it blended into the crowds.

“W-wait!” You shouted. A few people around you stopped to look, but not your soulmate.

You were running now, panicked at the idea of losing sight of your soulmate, the person that destiny had created to match with you on every level, the person you had dreamed of meeting your entire life. You yelled out again, nothing coherent and certainly not witty or flirtatious or nice, but it was enough to get them to look back.

God, you really hoped they didn’t have those words on them forever.

The man, your soulmate, had his face hidden by a mask, his eyes covered by a hat and yet somehow you could sense the panic that was coming off him in waves by his body language along. It was enough that you suddenly lost your confidence, stumbling to a stop in front of him as you took a deep breath, staring into his wide eyes with your own.

He held his coffee in front of him as if he had been prepared for you to tackle him, his entire body tense.

“You-“

Your voice seemed to get stuck in your throat, and so you took a second to swallow. Your soulmate used that moment of silence to lower his raised arms, his shoulders seemingly relaxing but still holding tension.

“Ah, hello.” He said.

In Korean.

You blanked, your words immediately dying. You started to panic, thinking to yourself ‘shit, he speaks Korean. Does he speak English? How were you going to explain this situation to him now?’ when he continued.

“Oh, do you need … something?”

These words were in English, heavily accented and a little slow, as if he was unsure himself of what he was saying. But it was enough reassurance that even if he didn’t speak English well, he had to know enough to understand what you were about to say.

You really hoped he did.

“You’re my soulmate!”

Both of you stared at each other with equal degrees of shock. Him at your words, and you at your bluntness.

‘God, really hope he doesn’t have first words’.

At his silence, his lack of reaction, you began to have doubts. What if you had been wrong somehow? The string attached to your chest definitely connected to him, but maybe it was a one-sided connection. One sided soulmate bond was extremely rare, but you had 8 soulmates.

Maybe this was simply a mistake.

Your panic must have shown on your face because he suddenly moved, raising his hands in reassurance and babbling something quickly in Korean. You only understood ‘its okay’, watching as his own panic seemed to overcome him as he looked around. You weren’t sure what he was looking for, but as his eyes landed on your own drink, he was suddenly right in front of you, pushing your drink up towards your face.

“Drink,” was all he said, urging you to do exactly that.

At his sudden movement and weird manhandling, you began to pull away from him, confused. “What, wait what the hell man!”

But then he let you go, mimicking with his own drink what he wanted from you. “Drink, please.”

And then it hit you, that he wasn’t just being weird. He wanted you to drink your drink, because he wanted to see if you were actually his soulmate.

It wasn’t unexpected for some people to use a soulmate bond as an excuse to get close to strangers, to take advantage of others, and the fact that you didn’t think about that before suddenly springing this on to a complete stranger made you want to hit yourself in the face.

So, with a nod of understanding, you were quick to down your now cooling drink. It wasn’t bad, not your usual go to choose, but it had a strong after flavor. You grimaced at the sensation, running your tongue over your teeth to get rid of the taste.

And then you were being pulled into a hug.

It was like something inside of you clicked, like a piece of the puzzle being put together. All your worries were gone, all your thoughts empty, the only thing you could feel was peace. The rest of the world just disappeared.

Your weren’t sure how anyone could confuse someone for their soulmate, not with this feeling to confirm.

He pulled back, saying something once again in Korean, and then pulling you back in for another hug. “You are my soulmate! Ah, I’m so glad. I … wait a very long time.”

“I, I’m really glad too,” You whispered, trying hard not to cry at the sudden emotions that overwhelmed you.

You held him just as tightly, breathing in his scent and familiarizing yourself with the way your arms fit perfectly around his shoulders. When you finally pulled away, you were suddenly aware of the fact that the two of you were in the middle of the street, and while it wasn’t odd to see soulmates meeting in public and it was usually common curtesy to give them space, some people were glaring as they walked around the two of you.

Woops.

Your soulmate seemed to realize at the same time, and you weren’t surprised when he grabbed your hand to pull you off to the side. What you did find odd was the sudden panic at he pulled his cap down further, turning away from the crowd and pulling you close so that you were hidden behind him. You tried to look behind him to see what he was hiding from, but he pulled you back in.

“Ah, no. Please. Uh …. Not safe.”

“Huh?”

His eyes narrowed as his nose scrunched up, and he scratched his neck. “I … um. Fuck. I am a … celebrity.” He gave an exaggerated point to his face, waving his finger around the mask specifically, and you nodded in understanding.

Then your brain caught up.

Having a celebrity for a soulmate was definitely unexpected, but you supposed it wasn’t impossible. You had seen a couple of celebrities announce their soulmates were random people, sometimes even fans, but you had never once entertained the idea that you could be one of those people. However, with 8 soulmates, it was bound to happen.

And then your soulmate gave another quick glance around, and he turned back at you with a soft gaze.

His hand reached up to grab his mask, pulling it down just enough for you to see his lips move with his next words.

“My name is Yang Jeongin. It’s nice to meet you.”

You would have found the way he slightly bowed his head in greeting adorable if you weren’t too busy freaking out. He quickly pulled his mask back up and asked you what your name was, but you couldn’t get your mouth to close from where it had dropped. And while he tilted his head to the side in confusion at your silence, he quickly righted himself as he seemed to realize what had happened.

“Ah, are you Stay?”

You could tell he was smiling. Your mouth closed shut so quickly it made an audible snapping noise, and you stuttered out your name. When his smile only seemed to grow, you quickly hid your face behind your hands and let out a groan, not even complaining as Jeongin seemed to laugh.

What were the odds?

“So cute,” he cooed. “My soulmate is Stay. Good.”

You had been saving up for months to afford the plane ticket, the hotel, the concert. The concert you were supposed to go to tomorrow.

“It’s okay. Don’t hide, please. I’m happy!”

Jeongin’s hands covered yours, pulling them away from your face so he could see you clearly. His eyes were so soft, so full of emotions you couldn’t begin to comprehend, and you couldn’t stand to see him, so you buried your face into his shoulder instead. He didn’t complain, pulling you into a hug and letting out a hum in content.

“Finally,” He whispered. He said something else in Korean, but your little knowledge was not enough to translate what he said, and he didn’t repeat it in English, so you weren’t even sure he was talking to you.

What were the odds that you would meet your soulmate the day before their concert?

[lizinthebox]

Ten Minute Warning - C.JH

Ten Minute Warning (18+)

C.JH x Fem Reader

w/c: 1.2k

c/w: idol au, softdom!jongho, implied established relationship, thigh riding, mentions of marking, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (don’t do this), lmk if I missed anything

a/n: I’M BAAAAAACK!!! Sorry for the huge lull, I had so much school work and then enjoyed my break :,) I decided to make my comeback with an Ateez fic because I’ve been reading A LOT of them these days. Please reblog if you enjoy it and use the ask box to send requests!! like always this was not proofread lol

“10 minutes!” the stage director shouts. The words ring out in your ears. 

You only have ten minutes to get what you want. You know it’ll never be enough time. It’s never enough time with Jongho. He always leaves you wanting more, even when he’s satisfied you more than anyone else ever has. 

“I can’t take my clothes off now, you’ll have to do it yourself,” he muttered between kisses, starting to unbutton your jeans. Something about him not being able to fuck you back makes you even wetter, you gently roll your hips into Jongho’s lap as you kiss him back, taking a quick pause to pull your jeans all the way off. The two of you have made a habit of having sex in the dressing room dangerously close to the time Jongho needs to be on stage, but tonight is the first time he hasn’t even had enough time to undress and actually fuck you. For now, you’ll have to settle for getting yourself off on his thigh. 

Your hands leave the couch behind Jongho’s head and find their way into his hair, lightly tugging just enough to make him grunt into your mouth. He caresses his hands all the way down your body, finding your hips and pressing them harder into his thigh. “Oh fuck,” your eyes almost roll back as you feel your clit rubbing against him even harder. You start to quicken the pace, eager to reach your high, and unsure of how much time has passed since the ten minute warning. 

Clearly Jongho had his eye on the clock because he quickly put an end to your helpless rutting by firmly gripping your waist and slowing you down. It felt like his fingers might leave a mark from how hard he was holding you, his cock aching in his stage outfit, practically begging to be freed. “Please let me cum before you go,” you plead, leaning out of the kiss but still rolling your hips into his lap. 

“Just a little longer, pretty girl,” he responds, still torturing you with his slow, guided movements. Just as you open your mouth to talk back to him, he grips your hips even harder and speeds up your movement. Instead of letting out complaining like you intended, you let out a sinful moan, immediately turning red over that thought that someone might have heard you. “You sound so pretty fucking yourself on my lap, baby,” Jongho praises you, your embarrassment immediately fading away with his words. You can feel the tightness in your core starting to form, your clit throbbing from the friction. But just as you’re about to go over the edge, Jongho shifts you over on his lap, completely stopping the motion you were growing so fond of.

“What the fuck?” you cry out, tears welling in your eyes over the orgasm you just had ripped away from you.

“I want to cum with you, you can wait for me, right beautiful?” his words contrasting his actions leave your fucked-out mind even more confused. But before you can even realize what he said, Jongho is getting up from the couch, gently setting you down while he gets up. You look over at the clock: 7:27. You know you would have finished in those three minutes if he hadn’t taken it away from you. But you don’t have it in you to put up a fight now, he’s already putting his shoes on and heading out the door, not leaving without giving you one more kiss for good luck. “Wait for me,” he whispers into your ear before pulling away and disappearing into the darkness backstage. 

Then, began the longest three hours of your life. All you could focus on was when Jongho would be back to finish what he started. You wandered around backstage, looking at the monitors but making sure to go back in the dressing room whenever there was a quick change or VCR break. You were used to wasting time while Jongho was on stage, getting out of the way when he needed to be backstage, and supporting him when he thought he had a bad show. But tonight, you could only focus on yourself, your need to have Jongho’s full attention. 

Finally, the encore was over. The clock read 10:39, nine minutes later than you expected to have him back. When finally the door busted open, Jongho, who was still sweaty from being onstage, was finally in front of your eyes again. “Hi, baby! Great show ton-” he cut off your pretend supportive girlfriend act with a kiss so rough you thought your lip might bleed.

“I don’t care about the show, I need you now,” he exhaled between kisses. You loved when he did this, played the tough, hard-to-get boyfriend half the time, but showed you how enamored he is with you the other half. You knew his act from earlier was just that, an act.

Before you knew it your top was on the floor and Jongho was undoing your bra with one hand while the other caressed your entire body. You pull his shirt over his head and move your hands down to unbutton his pants. You run your hand down his boxers, cupping his already hard cock in your hand, making him moan into your mouth. He gently pushes you onto the couch, positioning himself over you. “I need you inside me, please,” you beg, staring into his eyes as he pulls your panties to the side. 

Without any prep, Jongho lines himself up with your entrance, “I’m sorry for making you wait,” is all he says as he melts into you. Your jaw immediately falls open from the mix of pain and pleasure, usually he would make you take his fingers before he fucked you, but tonight he couldn’t wait any longer. His lips worked their way from your mouth to your neck, lightly sucking on your sensitive skin, making your nails dig into his back. He thrusts into you again, this time a little harder, making you let out a moan only muffled by your own bottom lip between your teeth. “You feel so good, baby, fuck,” he whispers onto the skin of your neck as he sets his pace.

Your walls tighten around him at his words and you can feel the knot in your stomach growing again. You know how much he loves to cum together, so you instinctively clench around his cock, giving him what he needs to get there. “J-Jongho I’m gonna cum, fuck don’t stop,” you plead. And he doesn’t. He keeps fucking you through your orgasm, finally spilling into you before letting himself slip out of you. 

Jongho lays next to you on the comically small couch, his chest heaving as much as yours. “You’re perfect, you know that, right?” is what he breaks the silence with. You smile at him, still not quite able to form words yet. “Let’s get ready to go home now, yea?” he follows up. You nod and he takes your hand to help you off the couch, your legs slightly wobbly. He smiles at you while you put on his hoodie and your own shorts before heading out the dressing room door.

[estellardreams]

"Deltarune Brawl!" Models

Its finally DONE!

And as a bonus these designs are free to use for any Deltarune/Undertale AUs (to the people who own their OCs. Please ask permission still if the OC isn't yours)

Attacking everyone below:

@somemismatchedsocks

@emthimofnight

@6larosie9

@silvers-starrway

@ekaycheem

@einelitas

@yellowvixen

@polkychu

@zhampip

@totaleclipse573

@sonlc

Skaerial

Lunateaq

Okay, so... I did all of the models from the Deltarune Brawl piece and lined them up. I also did a bonus Undertale fight screen version down below along with Soul types. I'll explain why I made the design choices I did for appearances along with explaining the Mobian Soul types.

Design Notes:

✨Stardust✨

Stellar's design is an almost fusion between her normal look and villain look, however she was granted shoes and a storage belt to carry items.

Camellia got a more modified princessy design that also felt more adventure oriented. Now with proper boots and a seperated two piece instead of a dress, she'd be able to move around a lot more easily.

Rime's hands and feet are actually now iced over, making her attacks much more volatile. But by contrast, her actual outfit appears more sleek and tight-fitted since most of the detail went into her hands and feet.

Sunshine is also a primary Healer, with her scarf being modified into a more cape-like appearance. She was also given a cross bag and connected belt with a pouch for extra storage.

Arthur is heavily knight focused with his design taking the most pointers from Kris.

Orion is pretty streamlined, with the only thing to note being the protective shoulder guards and the side cape. He is definitely a warrior type, but I opted for something slightly fancy while allowing for ease of movement and some protection.

Terios is also an attack oriented Mage, with a much longer cape and a cross belt to keep everything secure. The bracelets are just for decoration.

Juice doesn't like clothes at all since they're too restrictive, so to keep in line with her character I simply kept her original bracelet and just gave her a simple belt to tie the look together. And put her quills down. Her psychic wings are now always active and visible.

Keira actually comes with a retractable scythe, which can normally look like a sword and can be used as such on first glance. But with special attacks, it comes out like a scythe. Other than that her outfit was changed to allow for more movement.

Estelle's original outfit surprisingly fit deltarune, so I kept most of the original elements but chose to remove some of the capes for ease of mobility.

🌊Seafoam🌊

Kaiko was given visible vines and flowers in his quills and on his arm to signify him having plant powers. His original outfit was also modified to appear more combat oriented.

Maria always struck me as a combative type, hence her design wasn't changed too much besides providing extra protection in case she got hurt.

Tulip's outfit mainly serves mobility, however it does lack the shoes and gloves due to preference and not for convenience like some other characters.

Sakura's mainly a healing Mage, with her design being soft and calming as a result. Not much to say here besides thinking a cloak would look nice on her.

Nymph maintains her princess look with a more streamlined and less restrictive look. The skirt is also a back high low to prevent it from snagging from behind if she ran.

Rosemary was dressed in a more guarded and combative style, with the short skirt being a more stylistic choice and to provide some extra protection from injury.

Mallow is definitely more armored with knightly gear. But since she originally came with a dress I decided to give her a skirt instead.

Meredith is a more attack oriented Mage, and as such her outfit appears both flowy yet elegant. Even without armor the outfit is quite protective where it needs to be.

Naomi is very focused on both protection and movement for attacking, so her outfit comes with wrist and shoulder guards to protect from attacks along with sleek long gloves and socks with only the elbows, knees, and toes exposed for better flexibility. She also has a belt with a pouch for extra storage.

Azarael is a slightly modified version of her original outfit. She also has small fins at the backs of her legs to swim more efficiently but that's about it.

Character Types and Role explanations:

Each character has a primary strength and weakness of the group. This is mainly intended for balancing purposes.

The knights score in high defense but middle in attack and can't use magic.

Warriors have the highest attack and are somewhat skilled in magic, but lack defense hence they can get downed easily.

And mages have the highest magic casting, middle in defense, but lack the strongest attack.

For our roles we have...

Knights: Arthur, Rosemary, Naomi

Warriors: Stellar, Camellia, Rime, Sunshine, Orion, Keira, Maria, Mallow, Azarael

Mages: Terios, Juice, Estelle, Kaiko, Tulip, Sakura, Nymph, Meredith

And now, for the soul types.

Mobian Souls share attributes with human souls, yet respond quite differently with their own unique abilities. Everyone has a special soul type in accordance to their color. However, Determination is a human soul ONLY. It cannot be found in a Mobian or Monster. They also go by different names but still share similar qualities to the human variants.

Pink: Understanding. Special Ability: Teleportation.

Orange: Courage. Special Ability: Endurance

Yellow: Fairness. Special Ability: Strength.

Green: Compassion. Special Ability: Healing

Cyan: Humility. Special Ability: Levitation.

Blue: Righteousness. Special Ability: Shielding.

Purple: Persistence. Special Ability: Energy Orbs

And for main method of attacking:

Arthur: Sword

Rosemary: gauntlets

Naomi: Throwing Knives

Stellar: Shoe Blades

Camellia: Knuckle Busters

Rime: Cyrokinesis

Sunshine: Photokinesis

Orion: Katana

Keira: Retractable Scythe

Maria: Chaos Energy

Mallow: Dual blades

Azarael: Claws

Terios: Chaos Shards

Juice: Psychokinesis

Estelle: Photokinesis

Kaiko: Chlorokinesis

Tulip: Techopathy

Sakura: Chlorokinesis

Nymph: Pyrokinesis

Meredith: Hydrokinesis

[simonsquest]

Thoughts and spoilers (with screenshots) for Haunted Castle Revisited below.

The intro cutscene made me laugh. I wish it didn't, LOL. It's really awkward.

I'm really perplexed that they didn't adjust Simon's intro cutscene sprite. Selena's is totally different - they don't look quite right standing together.

Interesting choice to give Selena's sprite purple hair. Her dress is very pretty!

(He holds her........ that's a nice touch..... my blorbos........)

Simon's in-game sprite is very nice!

Gameplay feels fun and easier than the original! My only grievance with Simon's movement is that he sometimes needs a moment to register that I'm crouching (maybe it conflicts with a whip strike input?) The backgrounds in particular are especially beautiful. I love the spritework and parallaxing. It harnesses the dark gloom with high contrast colors I love so much from other titles like Bloodlines, Rondo, CV3 and ReBirth.

I'm perplexed by some of the choices... like gravestone crosses in the trees? Weird, but OK.

Climbing on chandeliers is very Super Castlevania 4 and I'm here for it!

They made some fresh and engaging changes to the tedious bits of some levels. All of the bosses are improved, too! Each were challenging in their own way (barring Medusa, maybe--crouch and strike and the fight will end quickly.)

The Frankenstein's monster fight had a lot of neat additions and cycles. Really enjoyed that one - it stands out in my mind!

Dracula's second phase is actually incredibly challenging in this one, as opposed to the original. It's a little hard to hear the remastered music over the sound effects. I listened to them afterwards from the menu and they're really good. Original Cross Your Heart is still my favorite! Can't be beat. But truly Bloody Tears sounds incredible with the electric guitar. Chills. I'm curious why they removed the bit where you go into like... idk how to describe it. Like an alternate dimension and fight harpies for a certain amount of time? I would have liked to see that in this version. Speaking of removed things: not sure how I feel about the part at the beginning where it's normally the rainfall/brick wall obstacle being replaced in the way it was. Its changed version is equally as tedious, in my opinion.

The Stopwatch was also removed as a subweapon. I can understand why - it made some fights very trivial. The fleamen... lol they're just so excited to be there, hopping around in a giddy, non-threatening way. The bridge connecting to Dracula's castle was much easier than the original. I didn't feel like one wrong move and I'd plummet to my death.

Dracula's coffin room has changed - poor Selena is laid out on top of Dracula's coffin, unconscious! She isn't present during the fight in the original game.

When Dracula's second form appeared I literally gasped out loud. It was totally unexpected! And to have Selena be part of the fight (floating behind) was a really nice touch.

Hahahah when I first played I didn't realize I could catch Selena after the fight ended. I let her fall to the ground (which was VERY funny to watch) thinking a cutscene would play... it's only when I watched someone play it on YouTube I realized that you can have Simon stand under her and he'll catch her in his arms. (I played it a second time just to make sure I caught her. I'm going to have to draw this... my dear OTP... I'm so df djfbgdfjfg)

Like the first cutscene, the final cutscene felt a little awkward, too. And Selena has blonde hair on her cutscene sprite, as opposed to the purple in-game sprite? She's so pretty, though. Q_Q Can't be mad about that.

Overall the vibe of this game is really amazing. When I first played The Adventure ReBirth, I thought to myself that it was a really amazing way to handle a Classicvania remaster. At the time, I told my spouse that I would love to get a new Castlevania entry--or another remake--of that style. Konami delivered in one of my very favorite titles. I'm so happy!!

Highly recommend this remake. Solid 9/10 from me.

( If you're feeling brave, try the original, too. ;) )

[dynamightmite]

Just to be clear, the whole "Deku and Bakugo holding hands by the end of the manga" thing isn't like. Something weird or made up, or even indicative of shipping. It's literally just the culmination of their interactions considering the way Horikoshi centralized "reaching to/for" as being foundational to Bakugo and Midoriya's relationship. Almost all of their big moments can be described as the act of one reaching for the other, both physically and emotionally—and both matter.

The whole reacher/reachee dynamic starts (chronologically for them) at about four, and this one interaction defines the entirety of their relationship going forward.

Notice how Midoriya reaches, and Bakugo shoves him off. He clearly recognizes the gesture, but he absolutely refuses to respond in kind. This is the break in their relationship, the symbolic moment where Bakugo pulls away and Midoriya is left trailing behind after him.

It isn't until years later that Midoriya reaches out to Bakugo again, under similar, but much more dangerous circumstances. One thing hasn't changed; Midoriya is the one originally doing the reaching. What does change is that Bakugo, unlike when they were kids, reaches back:

I think a lot of people pass over Bakugo's response here as unimportant because you have to translate it through seven asshole filters to realize he's roundaboutly trying to thank Midoriya for saving his life, but it's relevant in that it sets the tone going forward. This moment shows that Bakugo is willing to reach back—not necessarily kindly, and certainly not physically, not yet—if Midoriya reaches first. It's the first sign that Bakugo does actually want a reciprocal relationship, even if he can't verbalize or actualize it yet.

We see this extended after Deku vs. Kacchan 1. Midoriya reaches out to Bakugo, chasing him down to do so. While he doesn't reach out physically so much, he emotionally reaches out by (vaguely) offering Bakugo information about OfA.

While Bakugo isn't nice about it, once Midoriya has shown his vulnerability, Bakugo responds in kind, emotionally reaching back to Midoriya. He doesn't leave Midoriya hanging, instead going the extra mile and, unprompted, exposing his own vulnerabilties. This is more movement towards a reciprocal relationship—if Midoriya opens up, Bakugo will follow suit, even if he still won't go first.

It takes their final exam for Bakugo to physically reach back. After Midoriya "reaches" (read: punches, but look at the posing, and how his arm is outstretched) Bakugo does the same. They manage it because it's hidden under the guise of training and teamwork, more violent than anything.

This sequence isn't just physical, though; Midoriya reaches out to Bakugo and reaches through his defenses emotionally in a way that actually affects him. Here, for the first time, Bakugo feels like he's being acknowledged. Seen. Midoriya's right, Bakugo doesn't just give up and neither does Midoriya, and if they understand that about each other, maybe they can manage to understand more. To be more than just estranged ex-childhood friends and rivals. So Bakugo reaches for Midoriya and shows him that he can and will reciprocate, so long as they're doing it on his terms.

It's after this, after Bakugo has realized he maybe can reach back when Midoriya holds out his hand and it won't be terrible, that they're thwarted by the plot. For the first time, Midoriya is prevented from reaching out, physically, and instead does so verbally, and Bakugo, who is also unable to physically reach out, verbally reaches back. Call and response. A pantomime of what they want, and intentionally unsatisfying.

This is contrasted boldly and meaningfully against Kirishima physically being able to reach for Bakugo, who takes his hand without thought.

You'll notice this is mostly a physical act, not an emotional one. Sure, they're both happy to see each other and both their emotions are running high, but this moment isn't meant to be vulnerable and charged the same way Bakugo and Midoriya's reaching out is, because Kirishima and Bakugo have an uncomplicated relationship, while Midoriya and Bakugo do not. This moment is supposed to show Bakugo's individual, personal growth (in that he can even have a reciprocal, uncomplicated relationship built on respect and kindness with another person), but Kirishima's reaching out to him is largely utilitarian and being used within a larger contextual frame. It cannot exist alone because of how motifs function within works as a whole. This moment exists to bring attention to the act of reaching out mutually, and why it matters so much that Bakugo and Midoriya have yet to achieve it.

Having established that they both are actively thinking about this aspect of their relationship, it's only after Bakugo and Midoriya's near miss that things change again. Not entirely—while Bakugo instigates Deku vs. Kacchan 2, he doesn't really reach first. He's still too defensive, still too distrusting of Midoriya's intentions. He instead goes in on the offense, exposing Midoriya by bringing up OfA and forcing Midoriya's hand.

It's only when Midoriya reaches out, both physically and emotionally, that Bakugo breaks and reaches back.

Look at the posing and the positioning of the characters within these panels. Bakugo isn't drawn like this for shits and giggles, he's intentionally shown to be holding his hand out to Midoriya. Their whole fight has been characterized by Bakugo asking Midoriya for things (information about his quirk, the fight itself, why did All Might choose him as successor), and this is one more time. He is asking Midoriya to keep reaching out—to let Bakugo reach back, despite his ongoing rejections. To be there with and for Bakugo as he works through his own issues and to not let go. To let him be weak until he can work up the strength to fully reach back, and even reach first.

Which he wants to do. Desperately.

And when he does...

Bakugo reaches out first in his apology. Emotionally, not physically. Possibly because Bakugo actually tends to be pretty prickly about physical touch, and seems to treat that as more intimate than many of his peers, but I think his choice to reach out emotionally more has to do with Bakugo making the decision to do the difficult thing, to give Midoriya what he deserves. Because reaching out physically is just moving your hand—baring your soul? That shit hurts. That's hard. But it's what Midoriya needs, and it's what Bakugo wants to give.

And now it's Midoriya's turn to reach back. Not emotionally, but physically, stumbling his way to Bakugo. There is no emotional reciprocation on Midoriya's part this time—Bakugo will need to reach out again, later.

It isn't until the very end that Bakugo reaches—physically—first. And for the first time, Midoriya's not there.

The whole point of their relationship, the moment this all suggests they are heading to, is the two of them reaching for each other and being able to connect. Physically and emotionally. That is the entire purpose of this constant back and forth, one reaching out in the hopes that the other will reach back. So far they haven't completely managed, but for the arc of their relationship to be complete, that has to happen.

I understand why this often gets put under a romantic lens, and while it can be, I guess, the motif itself and the arc of their relationship exists regardless of any reader's personal preferances. That's what writing conventions are for, so we can recognize and predict the outcome of the story as intended by the author. The act of reaching out isn't exclusive to Bakugo and Midoriya within the story by any means, but their relationship being defined by the act and symbolized by it, continuously depicted with it as the main focus, is certainly not an accident. It is the culmination, and the ultimate end goal of their relationship, which—again, if writing conventions are followed—should be met. Like I understand that people get told "there's no correct answers in media analysis" but baby, sometimes there are answers with enough supporting evidence that suggesting they're wrong is... I don't even know.

[alchemie-tarot]

2023: What’s on the horizon for you?

Happy New Year, everyone! 🎆 Giving you all virtual high-fives and energetic hugs. I’ve been seeing in my timeline a lot that people are getting into their soft eras. I liked that so much, I picked out this set of purple-pink skies I captured that I initially had for a different pick-a-card topic. Makes you slow down and watch in awe.

May this year treat you beautifully. 💜

Feel free to choose the pile/s that call out to you. Some details may not resonate with you since this is a general reading. As always, nothing is set in stone, so please don’t take it too seriously.

Pile 1

The Emperor (back of the deck), 6 of Swords, The Tower, 9 of Wands

2022 has been all about control and structure in your life. You've created a routine that enables you to complete your day-to-day tasks seamlessly. It could even be that you’ve perfected some kind of system for yourself. You’ve been handling things in a practical approach more than anything. Once you have set your mind to something, you don’t budge. 

None of the knowledge you have absorbed has gone to waste. You’ve learned so much because of this dedication. “Bulletproof” came to mind. Any attempts to thwart your plans probably bounce off you, as if you’re made of steel. I have a feeling that there was a need for you to instill such discipline in your life, but at this point, you may have been taking these rules a little too seriously. 

Seeing how you like to keep your feet planted on the ground, I believe you need to buckle up for a change, Pile 1. You may not be the type to shake things up from time to time, but there will be a lot of movement in your life this year. It may feel like a rug pulled from under your feet. There is an element of surprise. I feel that most of you may not like to hear that, and I apologize if it causes you distress. 

You must know that this change is inevitable and it will manifest one way or another. Despite everything, though, I can see you riding it out. You will make this transition, even if you had to endure some strong discomfort for it. I assure you that you won’t be alone in this. Please don’t be afraid. The ways of the past are about to crumble because they won’t work anymore in contrast to the blazing potential ahead of you. It’s time to learn how to use your determination and willpower without letting them get the best of you. I have complete faith in you, Pile 1. I never see you back down and that already speaks volumes. Hang in there.

Pile 2

The High Priestess (back of the deck), King of Wands, 7 of Cups, Page of Cups, 9 of Wands

Splendid work getting to know who you are on a deeper level for the past year. It’s not an easy journey to go within but kudos to you, Pile 2, because I can see that you’ve learned to trust yourself and let go of the need to control every little thing. Balancing the burden of knowledge with self-compassion is key in this development. You may have spent a great deal in solitude, and look at you having thrived in it! Your Higher Self is radiant and they thank you for taking action, Pile 2.

Now, having shifted into the new year, your focus on your inner world is about to shift as well. The universe encourages you to get back out there. It’s time to get your head out of the clouds and come back down to earth. You know what you want now, having realized them during your period of reflection, and the next step is to turn them into a concrete action plan. I can see that manifesting them in a swift and bold way, owning exactly how you want things to be, is what would work wonders for you.

I really love your energy so far, Pile 2. Dazzling opportunities come your way precisely because they mirror you. There’s so many to choose from, all you have to do is take your pick. You’re a boiling pot of creativity and innovative ideas by yourself. 

It doesn’t even stop there because I can see you becoming a source of inspiration for many others. People who may have struggles that are similar to yours in the past will see how amazingly in touch you are with yourself now. What a balm to their soul. An embrace of assurance and a breath of fresh air. You have filled your own cup by putting yourself first. This has then enabled you to help others by sharing yourself, led by the right mind and the right heart.

Pile 3

Knight of Wands (back of the deck), 6 of Wands, 8 of Swords, Queen of Cups, Justice

You’ve made 2022 your oyster, Pile 3. You worked hard and played hard– this would differ for each person, of course, depending on your definition of work and play. It doesn’t have to be related to your job or your studies. It could also mean that you have broken through your confines and started something new in your life, or pursued what you’re passionate about. Whatever it was, it has given you a lot of freedom. So much fearless exploration, and it’s like all those months flew by so fast. What a rich year it has been for you!

You’re coming out on top, and as the new year ushers in, your achievements will be in plain sight. You did it, Pile 3! You’re gonna make it! The world will see how you flourished and admire all the progress you’ve made. Bask in it as you deserve. Remember, though, that gratitude goes a long way in helping the seeds that you have planted grow fruit. Be careful not to let your confidence tip into arrogance.

There is a message here about you not being in touch with your intuition. You may have been ignoring something your gut has been telling you, or you may have deemed any time of quiet and introspection unimportant. Pile 3, it seems to be related to a big, unresolved aspect of your life that can have long-term consequences. I feel that many of you would rather not face it.

Alright, I know I said that things in your life are about to reach a fever pitch, but there is advice for you to pause and go inwards for a bit, or this excitement will risk some kind of explosion— a revelation you may not be ready for. Your inner compass seems to fluctuate more than it is stable. Your success won’t be going anywhere, you know, so don’t worry about it disappearing if you take some time away in order to reflect. Ease into it and remember to be fair to yourself. 

Pile 4

King of Pentacles (back of the deck), The Empress, Knight of Swords, 8 of Pentacles Rx

I swear, this year has been all about the hustle for so many of you. If you felt like looking at Pile 1, its message has some similarities to this pile. Anyway, it goes without saying that you’ve been really getting that bread. Congratulations! In a fast-paced and competitive world where it’s hard enough to put one foot in front of the other, you got yourself out there with a discipline that wasn’t easy to cultivate, and you’re rewarded for it. Well done, Pile 4.

This year, it’s time for you to stop and take some time off to smell the roses. Go on a walk, eat something delicious that fills your stomach, and indulge in the luxuries you’ve set aside for so long. Create something with your hands that follows no criteria other than to please yourself. Relax! Relaaax. I say it like that because even though you’re fully entitled to this R & R, you still seem to be quite restless. Your guard is up as if you’re ready for some kind of combat. It’s like, you’re on your phone, waiting and mildly dreading the next thing to do even though it hasn’t come up yet, instead of clicking it shut and turning it face down.

Pile 4. You may have forgotten to live your life, but life hasn’t forgotten about you. You’re being called to freshen up and let your material pursuits and burdens take a rest for a while. Frolic into that imagination of yours and explore the more pleasurable side of your life. It doesn’t have to be extravagant. I bet you can get into the mundane and find the simple things that can make you smile, or remind you of the bigger picture. If it helps, you can still think of keeping your time of play and health in tiptop shape as a form of progress, too. Never mind if society tends to downplay it. Take it easy, Pile 4. You’ll thank yourself later.

Pile 5

The Devil (back of the deck), Strength, Queen of Pentacles, The Sun, The Emperor, Ace of Wands

2022 may have been one of the most nerve-wracking years of your life. I’ll go ahead and say that for some of you, it may have even been the worst. In several ways, you’ve felt trapped, empty, and powerless to change it. You may have been just waiting for it to drag along, putting your hopes into the new year. I’m so sorry to hear that, Pile 5. All you wanted was a little peace in so much chaos. For some, this year you came face-to-face with your demons.

You handled it with so much courage, Pile 5. I can see it shining from you like a ray of light. From the dark night and into the bright morning, you saw your vices illuminated before you and then gently, but firmly, held yourself accountable to them. Working with blockages isn’t an overnight thing. Still, as the Strength card depicts, you tamed that lion not with force, but with grace. It wasn’t easy at all, but you did it. You have no idea how much progress you made. I’m so, so proud of you.

If only I could properly convey the magnitude of blessings coming to you, Pile 5. Whatever it is, it’s gonna make you so happy. I’m telling you, the goods will be flowing and your aura’s gonna shine. “Money can't buy happiness?” Not for you, because this will surely open doors for you. For a few, it doesn’t have to be about finances, but a state of being grounded and surefooted enough to let your hair down. If you think it’s too good to be true, the cards clearly indicate a stability that will take its sweet time, but it will ultimately ease you into experiencing, more easily, a renewed life force. Joy.

This pile is unbelievable. I only meant to pull three cards, but five fell and three of them are the big Major Arcana energies. Honestly so extra (and I mean it as a compliment). Going back. You’ll have the time of your life, but it doesn’t just stop there. You’ll be building such an enterprise for yourself, you will end up being the boss of something. I think that, when you’ve been revitalized, your visions and creative ideas will also be brought into the light. Promising action plans and strong executions. Hot damn, you’re on fire. You’ll probably surprise yourself a lot throughout this. Blaze that trail, Pile 5. Believe me, it’s happening.

Pile 6

2 of Cups (back of the deck), Queen of Wands, The Tower, The Magician

You’ve found love this 2022. Whether it’s a romance, a trustworthy friend, a promising partnership, or an activity that makes you happy to be alive, you gained genuine connection with someone or something this year. This came at the right moment, when you needed it most, and brought you out of the dumps. A balance of give-and-take that you rarely encounter in your life. Your synchronicity with one another is effortless.

You make quite the force to be reckoned with together. I see that this connection encourages you to come out of your shell. The presence of the other party (whether an individual or an activity) strengthens your will to make a reality out of your wishes. You find new and surprising ways to make use of your resources, and your manifestation skills are skyrocketing. The possibilities are infinite. You may feel unstoppable.

This connection is not without trials and tribulations, though. There’s something significant about change here– not just a simple, day-to-day change, but radical change. For an individual connection, it could be that you’ve never been with someone like them. You may be different from one another in terms of culture and race. For an activity, you could have bonded with a craft that your peers would have found unexpected– not necessarily taboo, but quite peculiar. Either way, this connection is so fated, it can well shake your ground to its foundation. 

I really get the sense that pursuing this for the long-term could really change your life. Even if you decide not to, you still may feel as if nothing will be the same as before. What you must know, though, is that this seems to demand all-or-nothing, so you must prepare carefully should you decide to jump headfirst. I have to admit, I could sense all kinds of risks in this path, but make no mistake that there will be its share of rewards as well. Just always be discerning, Pile 6. Go for your beautiful, unpredictable, and powerful truth.

🎆 🎆 🎆 🎆 🎆 🎆

Thank you for taking the time to interact with this reading. Feel free to let me know how you thought of it! It really helps to hear about how it resonated, or not; the details that popped out to you. You are part of the magic, after all.

Stay safe!

[grison-in-space]

Wrapping up the Guards! Guards! reread, I hit this passage from Vetinari to Vimes and have to pause to snicker because Vetinari is just so damn young here:

“A great rolling sea of evil,” he said, almost proprietorially. “Shallower in some places, of course, but deeper, oh, so much deeper in others. But people like you put together little rafts of rules and vaguely good intentions and say, this is the opposite, this will triumph in the end. Amazing!” He slapped Vimes good-naturedly on the back. “Down there,” he said, “are people who will follow any dragon, worship any god, ignore any iniquity. All out of a kind of humdrum, everyday badness. Not the really high, creative loathesomeness of the great sinners, but a sort of mass-produced darkness of the soul. Sin, you might say, without a trace of originality. They accept evil not because they say yes, but because they don’t say no. I’m sorry if this offends you,” he added, patting the captain’s shoulder, “but you fellows really need us.” “Yes, sir?” said Vimes quietly. “Oh, yes. We’re the only ones who know how to make things work. You see, the only thing the good people are good at is overthrowing the bad people. And you’re good at that, I’ll grant you. But the trouble is that it’s the only thing you’re good at. One day it’s the ringing of the bells and the casting down of the evil tyrant, and the next it’s everyone sitting around complaining that ever since the tyrant was overthrown no one’s been taking out the trash. Because the bad people know how to plan. It’s part of the specification, you might say. Every evil tyrant has a plan to rule the world. The good people don’t seem to have the knack.”

Ah, yes, sir: because you are very evil, what with the assuming power largely, as far as I can tell, because you're offended by how poorly the system works; you whose first career move was to work to create stability in the city in a bid to minimize blowback, you who are above everything else practical and focused on utilitarianism. Uhhuh.

He's so young. Almost everyone in Guards! Guards! is, of course--Carrot with his law book most obviously--but with Vimes the alcoholic depression and the despairing cynicism has its hooks in so deeply that the overall impact is hard to see. By contrast, moving from Making Money to Guards! Guards! reveals a Vetinari who is almost embarrassingly green relative to the Vetinari who trains Moist: he is constantly making arrogant mistakes (ie "there's no dragons, that's nonsense") that his older self would be mortified to see, and then there's little pronouncements like this.

And for that matter, Vetinari himself should know full well that his "bad people" don't necessarily bother with much planning, either; just look at Mad Lord Snapcase. It's possible to view this through a Doylist lens--we just know a lot more about the history of Ankh Morpork by later books than Pterry did when he was writing this one. But I like to integrate Watsonian interpretations into my readings of the text, and so I enjoy thinking about this as partly a bid to undermine any support Vimes might be lending to any bids for power Carrot might make. After all, Carrot hasn't made any commentary about his sword one way or another; it's unclear to both Vetinari and the reader whether Carrot knows about the long lost heir of the city thing, and even more unclear what Carrot might choose to do in the absence of a giant flaming dragon having declared itself king.

Vetinari is in a fairly precarious place in this book, having been Patrician for only a relatively short time as far as I can tell, and after all there has just been an extraordinarily popular movement to replace the entire office of the Patrician with a hereditary king. If Carrot chose to, he could make life quite difficult for Vetinari: he might not win a theoretical power struggle, but he could certainly cost quite a bit of political capital and considerable public belief in Vetinari's ability to create stability. And Vimes, as Carrot's immediate supervisor and erstwhile human mentor, is the single person most likely to be able to influence Carrot away from that leg of the Trousers of Time.

It's an interesting way to plea for the support of a man like Vimes, I'll put it that way. It's wholly truthful and quite earnest, and it's not particularly manipulative: if anything, it paints Vetinari in quite a lot worse light than he could make a reasonable claim to being. It also avoids tugging on at least one equally truthful argument that could be expected to tug on Vimes' own sentiments: Vetinari is, for all his flaws and autocratic opinions, at the very least not a king. While he holds power, there will be no monarchs, no Lorenzo the Kinds to claim divine right to rule. I suppose it's also possible that Ventinari simply didn't know, of course, but--it's such an interesting little speech from a character perspective.

[silverzoomies]

Only Me

kyle spencer x reader smut

warnings: dubious consent, biting, kissing, shameless smut, undead kyle, zombie sex, zombie kink, halloween, song lyrics, dead dove: do not eat

word count: 6,205

a/n: hiiii !! halloween fic in june !! lol this one's my most bizarre fic yet probably !! i made kyle a lot more zombified than he was in the show !! if you're squeamish about corpses and wounds and stuff, i wouldn't tread any further !!

apologies for the usual: inconsistencies, characters ooc (kyle's a little more instinctive/aggressive here), clunky writing, etc etc etc

taglist: @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz (as usual, ask to be added !!)

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A full moon shined in a bright, stunning spectacle, high above Miss Robichaux’s Academy. A striking contrast to the black skies of a particularly cool Halloween night. Shrouded in a veil of evening darkness, the old-fashioned academy emitted an otherworldly glow. From the first floor windows, flashing lights of slime green and hellish orange flickered in endless repetition.

Inside, a small group of young witches danced. Dressed in their skimpiest costumes, they moved fluidly to the beat of Oingo Boingo’s Dead Man’s Party. Blaring loudly through a large set of speakers, the tune mingled with the girls’ laughter. Meanwhile, the older women of the academy socialized near cluttered snack tables. They chatted away with each other, paying no mind to their free-spirited students.

Dead Man’s Party.

An ironic song, you thought. Given the only ‘dead’ man in the room seemed beyond confused. You wondered if he even knew what the purpose of a party was. His Frankenstein brain might’ve forgotten parties entirely. Such a concept was also ironic. Considering, when he was alive, Kyle had attended enough frat parties to keep the beer industry thriving for years at a time.

The ancestral room felt alive with energy. You stood in a corner with your back against the wall, sipping overpriced punch Myrtle Snow had prepared herself. An unamused look crossed your face, as you watched Zoe and Madison dance. Their movements were effortless and intentionally suggestive.

Between them, looking out of place and somewhat lost, was Kyle. The zombified blond was hunched over in his loose-fitting flannel shirt. And his expression spoke of someone who had no idea what was happening around him. Unlike everyone else in the room, he hadn’t worn a costume.

Poor guy. It seemed like no one had warned him ahead of time.

There was an unmistakable tension in the air, as Madison and Zoe grinded their thin figures against Kyle. The indecent movements of their dancing were almost unbearable to watch. And you couldn’t help but recoil at the sight. The girls glared at each other, trying to outdo the other in a shallow competition for Kyle’s attention.

As Kyle stood there, he kept his head tilted down. His curly, blond hair fell into his face, and his eyes were blank and empty. Kyle must have been oblivious to the girls’ intentions. You felt a pang of discomfort in your chest at the thought.

“Jeez…it’s like I’m watchin’ a car crash in real time…and I can’t look away…” You said, sipping your punch.

Queenie, dressed in a dingy, striped sweater and a Freddy Krueger cap, leaned casually against the wall next to you. Her sweater fell loose off her shoulder, leaving it bare. She sipped her punch as she laughed, her Kreuger claws resting on her hip. Oingo Boingo echoed in the background, competing with the sound of her voice as she spoke.

“Those two are a wreck if I’ve ever seen one.” She joked, shaking her head, “Somebody’s gotta get in there and save that poor guy. Dude looks miserable. ”

“How pissed do you think they’d be if I cut in?” You asked. Glancing down at the lacy hem of your dress, you toyed with it idly in thought.

The pounding music in the room seemed to pulse in time with your heartbeat. Danny Elfman’s wavering voice echoed, booming throughout the floor.

I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go

Walkin’ with a dead man, with a dead man

Your ruby red slippers twinkled on your feet. You wore an (admittedly) revealing Dorothy of Oz costume, with a blue dress lined with white lace. The skirt barely reached past your thighs, showing off your legs in thin, white stockings. You clutched a decorative picnic basket, with a plush, scottie dog sticking his head out from inside. His beady eyes shined in the party lights.

“You’d be doin’ Kyle a favor if you did. But, girl, I dunno…” Queenie pushed herself off the wall, “You know those two ain’t messin’ around. They’re feral over him. Listen, whatever you decide to do? It’s your funeral. We’ve all seen what happens when Madison loses her shit.”

Queenie sauntered off then, her hips swaying with each step. She joined Nan on the dance floor. And you let out a sigh, knocking your head against the wall. After watching Zoe and Madison’s shameful display for a few moments longer, you decided enough was enough. You pulled your phone from your basket to check the time. Only 6pm.

Gracing your ears in tune with the catchy beat of the song, Danny Elfman’s voice rang out.

Don’t run away, it’s only me

Don’t be afraid of what you can’t see

If your hunch was correct, neighborhood trick-or-treating had only just begun. And even though you and Kyle were well into adulthood, the thought of indulging in such an innocent, nostalgic activity was too enticing to resist. Halloween was a holiday wherein Kyle could blend in with the general population. And if you accompanied him, he’d finally get some reprieve from the constant objectification he was accustomed to. It was a win-win.

You waited a few more minutes, hoping the two girls would eventually tire of their petty competition. As time passed, Madison finally stumbled off in her heels. Presumably to have a smoke out back. Queenie, ever the helpful friend, pulled Zoe away for a dance. Leaving Kyle free of anyone’s clutches. Seizing your chance, you immediately stepped in. And you lead him upstairs to your room.

It took around ten minutes for the two of you to finally leave the academy for trick-or-treating.

Five minutes to patiently explain your plan to Kyle, trying your best to help him understand. And another five minutes to help him get ready, after struggling to clarify what Halloween was to begin with. You asked if he wanted to dress up in a costume. 

Kyle’s only response was a simple, slurred-

“W-Woooooolf.”

He then made an awroooo sound in an adorable attempt to mimic a wolf’s howl. It was the cutest thing you’d ever seen Kyle do. And hearing him make such a precious sound instantly melted your heart.

You took the time to chat with Kyle. And you joked that if you’d known ahead of time he wanted to be a wolf, the two of you could have coordinated costumes. Perhaps you could have gone as Little Red Riding Hood, and him as the big, bad wolf. Even though you weren’t sure if Kyle understood the reference, he gave you the sweetest smile nonetheless. In his undead eyes, you saw a sparkle of lingering humanity. You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling your heart melt just a little more.

Carefully guiding Kyle to the bathroom, you brought him in front of the mirror. Using a dark, eyeliner pencil, you drew a big, black dot on the tip of his nose. Then, with a steady hand, you doodled adorable, cartoon whiskers on his cheeks.

Which, in retrospect, made him look more like a cat than a wolf.

But Kyle seemed delighted with his new appearance regardless. He held his big hands up in front of the mirror, curling his fingers into claws. Kyle faked a snarl, scrunching his nose and showing off his pink-tinted teeth. The teeth of a dead man.

To your own surprise, you managed to sneak Kyle out of the academy without a single hitch.

For the next few hours, you lead him around a local neighborhood. As the two of you made your way down the street, you marveled at the eerie decorations at every house. Politely, you approached each doorstep, excitedly proclaiming, “ Trick-or-treat! ” while holding Kyle’s hand loosely in yours.

Thankfully, nobody seemed to mind that you two were well past the necessary age for trick-or-treating.

You stopped to explain the concept of Halloween to him once more, after he struggled to understand what trick-or-treating was. He furrowed his blond brows, as though deep in thought. Kyle made a frustrated grunt in response. You couldn’t help but smile, finding his confusion…strangely endearing. Everything about him was endearing, really.

Despite his initial confusion, Kyle definitely enjoyed the candy aspect of Halloween. The treats. His opaque eyes lit up with glee, and he held his pumpkin bucket up in front of you like a fabulous prize. You cheered him on, showing off your basket overflowing with goodies.

A thick mugginess in the air felt sticky against your skin. As the hour grew later, the air shifted to a sharper, colder chill. Crisp, autumn leaves fluttered in the breeze, twirling in colorful circles along the road. The once charming decorations at every house now appeared all too creepy in the dark. Illuminated only by a combination of moonlight, and the occasional streetlight; the neighborhood appeared desolate and empty. You wrapped an arm around yourself for security and warmth.

Perhaps it was time to return to the academy before things got any spookier.

Kyle loomed in close proximity to you all night. And as the hours passed, he leaned in even closer. Part of you began to question your assumptions about him. Perhaps you had misjudged. Maybe Kyle appreciated the constant attention Zoe and Madison gave him back at the academy.

His craving for physical touch was obvious. Every time you tried to create some space between the two of you, he pressed himself against you again. It became clear then, physical intimacy was something Kyle wanted on an almost constant basis. And given his limited communication skills, you figured he had no other way of expressing such a need. He stuck to your side like glue, walking with you throughout the cold, dark neighborhood.

You were reminded of that Oingo Boingo song. Dead Man’s Party.

I'm all dressed up with nowhere to go

Walkin' with a dead man, with a dead man

Ooh-ooh, waitin' for an invitation to arrive

Ooh, walkin' with a dead man, with a dead man

Despite his proximity, Kyle’s body provided you with no warmth. You were left plagued by the nightly chill in the air. And out of nowhere, Kyle groaned, sounding displeased about… something. You didn’t know what. Worried it was your fault, you moved to give him more space. Kyle appeared even more annoyed then. He choked on words he couldn’t say. And you stopped in your tracks on the sidewalk. Gazing at him with concern in your eyes, you tried to deduce what the problem was.

“Hey, K-” You started.

Before you could ask him, Kyle reached out a hand. He stared down at you with black, cloudy eyes. Between his pale, grey lips rested a half-eaten candy bar. His fingers were covered with sticky chocolate. And he made a move to pull the collar of your low-cut dress down.

“Oh! Wh-...Kyle!! What are you doing, honey?!” You shrieked in hushed surprise.

At that moment, something must have clicked in Kyle’s Frankenstein brain. Some kind of instinctive shift.

Even though he loved his candy, chocolate wasn’t necessarily the kind of Halloween treat he wanted. He pulled the chocolate bar from his lips, tossing it aside into the grass.

“Treeeaat…” He slurred, with his pale, chapped lips coated in chocolate. Kyle tugged the front of your dress down even lower, “Tr…tr-trick…or treeeat?”

Your breasts almost popped out from the force of his strong tug. The swell of them bounced in a mesmerizing display, looking supple and smooth. Smears of chocolate stained the clean, white lace of your dress. Gasping, you backed up before Kyle could do anymore damage. You stumbled on your sparkling, ruby slippers. As you struggled to find your balance, Kyle eagerly followed. He pushed his strong body against yours, leaning down to kiss you.

“Kyle, no! N-Not that I mind, if this is what you want! But…can you at least wait until we get home, bud?” You protested, bringing a hand to his mouth to stop him.

You were fearful of any late-night passerby catching the two of you in such a compromising position. Kyle knit his brows together, put off by your rejection. You gave him a sympathetic look, and lowered your hand.

Whatever you said before, none of it registered. Kyle abruptly attacked your neck with his mouth, and you sucked in a sharp breath. His lips were frigid and cold against your skin, their rough, chapped texture scraping across your neck. Reveling in your taste, he hungrily swirled his cool, slimy tongue.

“Honey, no-...s-stop! You can’t-” You pathetically whined, patting him repeatedly on the shoulders to get his attention.

Kyle devoured your neck like a Halloween treat, sloppily tonguing your smooth, warm skin. You squirmed as he wrapped his thick arms around you tightly, pulling you closer. The entire weight of Kyle’s body pressed itself into yours. Dead weight. You lost your balance again, stumbling backwards. And without meaning to, you slipped off your feet behind a nearby lining of bushes.

Taking a tumble, Kyle came down with you. He immediately took advantage of your vulnerable position on the ground, crawling over your body. Even as you continued to protest, Kyle’s attention returned to your neck. He nipped at your skin, flicking his sticky tongue in a desperate thirst for more of you. Underneath your body, you felt dewey grass seep wetness into your dress. You squirmed again, hesitant to give in to Kyle’s reckless desire.

“Pleaaaase! Just let me-...Kyle, please, help me up, won’t you?” You begged in a desperate plea.

He groaned a throaty noise into your soft neck, and his hands began to explore your body. Fighting to maintain your dignity, as well as your modesty; you made another move to push Kyle off of you. Your hands pressed hard at his thick shoulders, but he refused to budge.

“I’m serious! If you wanna do this together, we can, okay? Just…not here! This is…it’s a neighborhood, right? What if someone sees?? Let’s just wait until we get home, please?” You insisted, “Kyle, p-

Unexpectedly, he cut you off (or shut you up, rather) with a surprise kiss. 

Lips of a muted, grey hue collided with your own, more saturated ones. A kiss of life and death. Kyle’s lips were ice cold, molding effortlessly with your warmth. He tasted of a bizarre mix between cheap, dollar store chocolate and…something else you didn’t recognize. Something almost…earthy.

He was the sloppiest kisser you ever locked lips with. Prodding at your lips fiercly with his tongue, Kyle demanded entrance. When you didn’t let him in, a frustrated growl vibrated through his mouth. His hand darted down to your chest, where he tugged the front of your dress with an even stronger pull. Threatening to rip it apart, as though he knew you would protest.  

You opened your mouth with a surprised squeak, scrambling to pull Kyle’s hand away.

That oozy, freezing tongue of his slithered its way past your lips like a wiggly leech. Thick and slimy in your mouth. Kyle’s kisses became filled with a wild and unrestrained passion. Even though such a messy makeout session would be off-putting to anyone else, you found yourself melting into it. Despite having no concept of restraint or consistency, Kyle’s lack of skill was somehow intoxicating. You were irresistibly drawn to his discolored, dead man tongue.

You couldn’t help but think of how you always admired the way he looked.

When he was alive, Kyle was undeniably stunning, and so gorgeous. He had one of those beautiful, sunshine smiles, and golden hair to match. But after his resurrection, he was viewed as somewhat of a monster. Since the initial work done to bring him back had been less than subpar. To the average person, Kyle looked like a walking corpse pulled straight out of Night of the Living Dead.

However, Kyle’s zombified appearance did nothing to deter you. In death, you found him attractive in about a million other, more forbidden ways. Perhaps you were a bit of a freak behind closed doors.

And now, you had the opportunity to appreciate Kyle, in all his reanimated glory. Allowing yourself to explore his bulky, undead form. Corpse-like in appearance, Kyle’s body seemed right on the cusp of decay.

Maybe you could indulge in your curiosity and unconventional attraction…for just a few minutes. A moment or two wouldn’t hurt. Kyle was obviously desperate for the attention anyway. It was almost cute, really. The way he fought so hard to fool around with you.

Yeah. A few minutes of teasing touches. And then, you’d surely head back to the academy together.

You hesitated to touch Kyle intimately at first, careful not to cross any personal boundaries.

You knew Kyle harbored strict boundaries somewhere in that Frankenstein brain of his. Misty had told both you and Zoe all about it. Though, none of you had any clue where such boundaries originated. Was Kyle somehow self conscious? Did his instincts operate on a more intense, animalistic level of fight or flight? There wasn’t any way for him to tell you, and you’d never be able to guess on your own. Best to tread lightly.

Kyle loomed over you, guzzling your lips and tongue like a hungry man starved. Raising a hand, the tips of your fingers took a careful chance. They brushed across the poorly sewn stitches in his neck. Grazing his prominent scars, you traced their irregular lining.

You were afraid he might recoil, but Kyle instantly melted into your touch. His shoulders fell slack for a moment, and he moaned a soft, little whine into your mouth. It was as if tracing the scarred etching of stitches brought him some sense of relief.

A trail of thick, gooey saliva connected your tongues, as Kyle pulled his lips from yours. He gazed down into your eyes with a soft expression. The cute dot you'd drawn on his nose was slightly smudged now, along with those kitty wolf whiskers. You noted the way his hefty form looked, illuminated by a faint blanket of warm, yellow light. The street light flickered from above, as if threatening to abandon the two of you in the dark.

You stared back into Kyle’s foggy eyes. They were somewhat empty of humanity, with black pupils blown wide. His brawny chest became exposed, as you unbuttoned the thick flannel of Kyle’s shirt. Trembling fingers felt across his pecs, your skin burning hot against Kyle’s lifeless cold. He shuddered under your touch, arching his back slightly.

“W-Waaarm.” He slurred, “Mooore…”

Patches of discoloration decorated Kyle’s broad torso. They reminded you of a tropical desert map. One in which Kyle’s pale skin was the desert sand. Portions of his flesh had turned yellow in color. Faint hues of deep purple and sea-foam blue leaked through, similar to a watercolor palette. You ran your fingers over the discolored patches of skin, feeling subtle, textural changes. Kyle’s skin was overall smooth, but slightly torn near his ribs.

“Stop me if-uh…if this hurts, okay?” You whispered in a soft tone. Kyle tilted his head, the blonde curls of his hair dangling over his face.

Morbid curiosity overcame you, as you momentarily delved deeper into Kyle’s ripped flesh. The texture of his skin was uneven, as the surrounding skin had dried out slightly. Hesitant, yet alarmingly eager, you dipped your fingers into a decaying wound close to his ribs. Keeping your eyes on Kyle’s face, you searched his expression for any signs of discomfort. Beyond the scabbed edges of his skin, your fingers found a cold, mushy cavern inside.

You felt the cold rigidity of his rib bones just beneath the surface, the dampness of his insides slimy and raw. Kyle’s breathing steadily grew labored the longer you explored him from the inside. His jaw fell slack, dark eyes rolling back in his deep sockets. After teasing the wound for a few beats longer, you pulled your digits from it. A warm blush pooled in your cheeks, and you exhaled a flustered laugh. Ashamed of yourself.

“S-Sorry, honey…” You apologized, “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Kyle whimpered in response, wildly shaking his head. A slimy stickiness lingered on the tips of your fingers. And you made a mental note to thoroughly wash your hands once you finally returned to the academy.

You explored Kyle’s peculiar body for a moment longer. Beautiful, blue veins were visible under the thin layer of his skin. You traced those veins, following their intricate, web-like patterns. Kyle’s eyes fell closed as you did. He hummed soft, submissive whines. His head occasionally jerked in sudden, instinctive motions. After opening his eyes, Kyle stared down at you with a more lax, half-lidded expression.

You noted the way his eye sockets were slightly sunken in, appearing almost skeletal. A smokey darkness surrounded his foggy, black eyes, making them pop when they widened with abrupt impatience.

Growing fed up with your slow-paced, careful touches, Kyle darted down. He returned to his original task, gnawing pink teeth against the burning flesh of your neck. Your blood pulsed under your skin, beating against his slimy tongue. You brought your hands up to his blonde curls, carding your fingers through the somewhat-ragged locks.

Kyle’s hair was clean and washed. Yet, the strands felt like those of an old, decrepit dog. Curls dangled in his face as he mouthed your neck, and Kyle sloppily licked the bruises he sucked harshly into your skin. He pulled at your skimpy outfit, tearing rotted, jagged fingernails into the cheap fabric. Exposing your bra-covered breasts, Kyle ripped the front of your dress apart in one, harsh jerk. You wrapped a hand around his wrist, fighting to pull it away before Kyle tore your bra off as well.

“WAIT! Kyle, no! You can’t, honey!! I-It’s cold out here!! And someone might see!!” You insisted, “B-Before we do that, let’s go back home first!”

You were in too deep now, that much was obvious.

He jerked his hand away from your hold, groaning in protest. Kyle brought his massive palm to your chest, curling his fingers into your bra. He ripped the garment apart, letting your tits bounce freely. Immediately upon seeing them in their lucious, supple glory, Kyle made another noise. A groggy, throaty sound dripped from his tongue, drooling cool saliva over your breasts. He didn’t hold back, dropping to swipe his sticky tongue hungrily around one of your nipples. 

“T-T…T….Treeeeeeeat…” Kyle groaned, ragged over your breast.

You whimpered, your nipples immediately hardening in response to his numbing, chilly touch. Your hands dropped to Kyle’s broad shoulders again, as you attempted once more to push him away. Ruthless with desire, Kyle licked and sucked your tits, as though thirsty for the milk you couldn’t provide.

By now, Kyle was handling you a little more roughly than you preferred.

As the dull flats of Kyle’s teeth sank into your flesh, biting hard; you were beginning to second guess yourself. Kyle chomped into your smooth skin like he wanted to rip you apart and feast on your blood. You wiggled from under him, trying to shimmy away. The hand of his not occupied with your breast, darted up to your shoulder. Kyle forced you down with his palm, keeping you in place. Mesmerized by the pheromones permeating from your pretty breasts, Kyle couldn’t stop himself. He gnawed your tit even harder.

And for you, that bite crossed a line.

Imprints of Kyle’s teeth were left embedded into your skin. Weakly raising your basket, you fought Kyle off, repeatedly whacking him on the shoulders with it. Candy flew out from the basket in every direction. In the back of your mind, you mourned their loss.

No matter how much you fought, Kyle refused to budge. If anything, your protests encouraged him further. Kyle grew more frustrated, growling monstrous noises into your tits as he sucked one hard. He scraped his teeth up to your collarbone, chomping into your skin so harshly you nearly cried.

“Stoooppp!!! Please!!! Kyle, sweetheart, that hurts!!” You pathetically begged, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes, “Please stop!! It’s not good, Kyle! It’s very bad!”

He shook his head wildly with another animalistic growl, keeping you caged under his body in the wet grass. Kyle moved himself further down your squirming form, jerking the skirt of your dress up over your belly. The tiny, lace panties you wore underneath were exposed to him completely, along with a shameful, wet spot between your legs.

“Noooo! Good… v-very good …” Kyle grumbled, frustrated. He sank down between your legs, enveloping your clothed pussy with his whole mouth.

Goosebumps shot across your thighs as his cold breath met your cunt. Kyle’s teeth roughly grazed you, his slimy tongue prodding your folds through the thin fabric of your panties. You instantly panicked, kicking his shoulders with all the might you had left.

Kyle violently tore your delicate panties off, ripping the fabric at the seams and leaving you bare. Crisp, late-night air nipped your poor, defenseless pussy. Fearful that Kyle might start chomping at your cunt like a corpse in search of brains, you quickly rolled onto your belly in the grass. You crawled forward on trembling limbs, your veins pumped full of adrenaline. 

“L-Let me go, Kyle! No more! We gotta get back now!! P-Please!” You cried, rushing forwards with your knees pressing into the dirt.

Kyle came charging after you on all fours, his movements similar to that of a vicious, feral predator. The panic swarming your brain heightened, surging down your spine. Your heartbeat kicked to high-speed. Scrambling to stand, you were faced with the unfortunate reality…that your legs were too shaken and weak to function.

Your thin stocks were stained with mossy green, as wet dew seeped into their fabric. Just as you made it to the sidewalk pavement, you felt the tight grasp of cold hands wrapping around your ankles. Your ruby slippers kicked frantically against Kyle’s hold. But his grip tightened around them. Kyle dragged you by your ankles behind the bush in the dark, his jagged, rotting nails sinking into your skin over your stockings and scratching holes in the fabric.

That Oingo Boingo tune stuck on repeat in your head, echoed eerily topical lyrics in your subconscious mind. Don’t run away, it’s only me

Don’t be afraid of what you can’t see

Don’t run away, it’s only me

Don’t be afraid of what you can’t see

You couldn’t hold back the terrified scream that leapt from your throat.

Kyle’s eyes flew open wide. He moved quickly, climbing over your body from behind. Reaching around to clasp a large, cold hand over your mouth, Kyle growled chilly breaths into the shell of your ear. You could feel the hard press of his sizable bulge against your ass.

You barely registered the sound of Kyle’s hushed, throaty voice shushing you, as you cried for him to stop in loud pleas. He whispered in your ear gentle, slurred reassurances…or, at least, he tried to. Kyle apologized repeatedly, mouthing your ear and neck in a more loving, yet clumsy way. Less teeth. Thank fuck for less teeth.

“S-Ssssss-...sooorry.” He mumbled slowly, “N-N…N….Neeeeed…”

Trying to calm yourself, you breathed long, deep breaths through your nose.

Realistically, you knew Kyle never intended to hurt you. And if he did, it wasn’t necessarily his fault. He was a creature who operated purely on animalistic, carnal instinct. His brain functioned at a process slower than the average person. Like Frankenstein’s monster. Of course, it should come as no surprise. If Kyle desired something as natural as sex, his thirst was bound to make him slightly more deranged.

Maybe he just hadn’t been taught otherwise.

With one of his hands clasped tightly over your mouth, Kyle brought his other to his jeans. He felt around aimlessly for the button, finding it difficult to free his cock from the constrictive denim. After a bit of agitated fumbling, Kyle finally released his hefty, undead cock from his pants. Perched in the grass on your elbows and knees, you curiously dropped your head to take a glance at his dick.

You were lucky enough to catch a quick glimpse of Kyle’s thick, bouncing cock. It was discolored like the rest of his body, and covered in vivid, blue veins. In your mind, you questioned the logistics. How was it even possible for a zombified man to get an erection?? Was it witch magic? Was witch magic really powerful enough to keep oozy, undead blood flowing through a zombie?

Kyle mounted you much like an animal in heat, guiding the fat tip of his cock to your weeping entrance.

The stark contrast between his corpse-like temperature and your own, more lively warmth shook you to your core. You gasped into Kyle’s palm, your lower-half squirming as the deathly cold, smooth length of his cock pushed its way through your searing walls. Your pleasant heat engulfed Kyle’s dick completely, and he immediately roared a guttural noise from deep in his chest.

“T-Trrrreeeeeeeeeeeeaaat!” He slurred in a broken tone, “ G-...G….Gooood treat.”

Those were the last, coherent words Kyle spoke, before carnal instinct took over his brain completely. He violently jerked his hips forward, sinking his stiff cock deeper into your pussy. The leaking, wet tip hit your cervix in a bruising pressure. You fell forward into the grass, almost losing balance on your trembling legs. Kyle released his hold on your mouth, instead raking his blunt, uneven nails down your body.

Pumping his cock through the tight squeeze of your cunt, Kyle dropped his palms to the grass. His brittle nails dug themselves so deep into the dirt.

“K-Ky-” You choked, feeling a thickness bubbling in your throat, “Kyle, please-”

The slickness of his length felt inhumanly cold inside you. Your blistering hot pussy constricted around him, grasping hold of Kyle’s cock and pulling him in deeper. He wanted so desperately to gnaw and bite you again, but he refrained from doing so. Kyle made huffy, monstrous noises as he fucked you raw and hard in the grass. Guttural, zombie-like groans echoed, ragged against your ear from behind. He carried no restraint, as he drilled you with his dick so hard and deep, it began to hurt.

Your entire body buzzed with sharp, pinpricks of overwhelming pleasure, edging so closely to pain. But somehow, you registered the ache as intoxicating. Your body couldn’t stop itself from betraying your brain’s warnings. Despite your suffering, your pussy fluttered so wet around Kyle’s cock. Hot, slick heat made it so easy for him to fuck you as hard as he desired. Allowing him to act on his unfiltered, baseless instincts.

“P-Please-...Ky-...Kyle…slow down, please-” You begged, mewling little cries.

Your soft voice only encouraged Kyle. His thrusts turned more violent and rapid, losing any consistency. Heavy balls slapped repeatedly at your hot mound, teasing your clit. Out of your control, your eyes rolled back in their sockets, as you moaned in blissful ecstasy.

Kyle’s nasty, unrelenting thrusts were so powerful in force, the overstimulation was enough to make you cum from penetration alone. Your fiery heat tightened around his pulsing cock, and your body erupted in a mind-altering onslaught of uncontrollable, orgasmic trembles. Kyle roared another guttural, monstrous sound, unable to resist sinking his blunt teeth into your neck. He wrapped an arm tightly around your middle, jerking you backwards to meet his thrusts.

“Kyle, wait!” You struggled to speak, your head dizzy and swimming. Turning your head slightly, you felt Kyle’s messy, blond hair brush the skin of your cheek, “Don’t finish inside! You have to – f-fuck – you have to pull out! You can’t cum inside me, baby!”

Your ass bounced recklessly against the hairy mound of Kyle’s pelvis. If he understood what you meant, it was clear Kyle had no intention of listening. Burying his length to the hilt in one, final, savage thrust; Kyle spilled his sticky, zombie seed deep inside your hot, living pussy.

“N-NO! KYLE, NO-” You panicked again, trying to crawl forward and out of Kyle’s grasp, “FUCK! YOU CAN’T-”

He roared his loudest noise yet, the sudden sound tearing through your eardrums. Latching a palm tightly around the back of your neck, Kyle forced you face down into the dewey grass. With your ass up and out, he fucked the last of his cum into your pussy with a near damaging force. A frigidly cold sensation pooled in the pit of your belly.

For a short moment, Kyle kept his slick cock buried inside you. Even as the length softened, he took his time before pulling himself from your cunt. And once he finally did, the thickness of his off-colored, oozy cum came spilling out of you in heavy spurts.

As it turns out, zombies cum a lot.

You shivered, sniffling as hot tears raced down your reddened cheeks. Kyle released his hold on your neck, reaching up to pet you clumsily over your hair. Behind you, you heard shuffling as he fought to tuck himself in his pants and fumbled with the button. Your knees collapsed into the grass, and you heaved rapid, frantic breaths. You couldn’t deny the way your body quivered with blissful, euphoric exhaustion.

“Kyle…for fuck’s sake…why…” You sniffled with a hiccup, lying with your cheek pressed to the grass.

Several bite marks of deep, dark violet littered your once clean skin. You rolled onto your back on the ground, your chest rising and falling with every quick breath you took. Kyle sat back on his knees, staring down at you with an expression of fearful, worried confusion. It seemed that, somehow, he didn’t understand why you were so immobile and worn out.

Kyle’s black eyes steadily trailed across every mark he left behind, all over your neck, collarbone, and breasts.

He frowned, his foggy eyes pooling with heavy tears. The whiskers and nose you’d drawn on his face earlier were smeared to high heaven, leaving black streaks on his cheeks.

Crawling over you again, Kyle gently buried his teary-eyed face in your tits. He pressed soft, cool kisses along your abused skin. Before resting his cheek on your chest. His thin, blonde curls tickled your chin.

“S-S…ssssorry… ” He mumbled through his tears. Kyle rubbed his thumb across one of the bites he left behind, making you wince, “B-Baaaad…not gooood…sorry…” 

Despite his rough handling, you knew you couldn't stay mad at Kyle for very long. In a way, he'd made you feel pleasure beyond anything you ever experienced with an average, living man. And the loving kindness he carried under the surface of his monstrous exterior made you adore him. So much more than you already did.

You let out a long, tired sigh, raising a hand to gently run your fingers through Kyle's curls.

"What am I gonna do with you, huh? It's okay, honey. It hurt a little bit, but...I'm fine. Just..." You breathed an exhausted laugh, wincing as you tried to move, "Let's try to teach you a little restraint next time, okay?"

If you thought about it logically, there was no possible way you could actually get pregnant from a reanimated corpse, right? His swimmers were probably dead as doornails. Regardless, you felt a little squeamish knowing loads of gooey, zombie spunk resided inside you. You shivered at the thought, shaking your head.

Yeah, you definitely needed a long, hot shower. Asap.

"Can we please go home now, Kyle?" You begged, weakly sitting up on your elbows.

Peering up at you through adorable, innocent, dark eyes, Kyle blinked slowly. He nodded, pushing himself quickly off your body.

"H-Hhhhhh-....Hoooome..." He mumbled, politely holding out a hand to help you up.

You found yourself too incapacitated to stand. After such a raw, violent fucking, your body felt on the brink of death. Consumed by exhaustion, it was as though you'd become the living corpse. Undead and barely functional. Falling into the grass on your back, you groaned, burdened by a deep ache in your bones.

Catching on to your pained, tuckered-out state, Kyle reached down. He wrapped his thick arms around your body, effortlessly lifting you up over his shoulder. It was a ridiculously careless way for him to carry you, but you couldn't find it in yourself to complain.

In one hand, Kyle held his pumpkin bucket and your basket, both slightly empty of the candy they once held. With your limp body lying slump over his shoulder, he used his other hand to keep your skirt pinned over your butt. Nice of him to consider your decency. 

In the empty, desolate cold of a moonlit, Halloween night; Kyle carried you all the way back to the academy.

And the whole way, as you hung limp over his shoulder in a fucked-out daze...you hummed a song softly to yourself.

Oingo Boingo kept looping endlessly in your head, like a persistent parasite.

I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go

Walking with a dead man over my shoulder

I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go

Walking with a dead man over my shoulder

[hurtmehurtmeluv]

Vast Error and Splatoon fans, how do we feel about these? (custom kits and some explanations under cut!)

Sova (Defensive Utility) - Reef-lux, Splash Wall, Baller I don't really know her that well so this one is probably the most shaky out of all of them. I was hoping to give her a more defensive play style here (Splash Wall and Baller)

Dismas (Evade Skirmisher) - .52 gal, Toxic Mist, Triple Splashdown The .52 is here since it takes 2 shots to hit (in reference to 2xbladekind). Toxic Mist and Triple Splashdown don't have too much reason to be on here except that this all together makes a nasty .52 gal kit.

Arcjec (Tank Skirmisher) - Tentabrella, Autobomb, Taticooler Arcjec would tend to use Autobombs the most while hiding behind the huge shield the Tentabrella provides. Taticooler is in reference to not only his obsession with Code Red, but also how he recovers quickly when pushed down (respawn buff from Taticooler). He's also meant to be paired with Ellsee in a way, since her Squid Beacon's can support this specific play style greatly.

Jentha (Special Utility) - Bloblobber, Angle Shooter, Wave Breaker She just feels like it. Like she just feels like a Bloblobber and I can't really explain it too much. Source: just trust me bro. Angle Shooter would be something she'd use in a panic to try and find someone, just a quick 'throw it out' thing while revealing her location at the same time. Wave Breaker suits the non-aggressive play style that I'm trying to go with her.

Ellsee (Evade Skirmisher) - Inkbrush, Squid Beacon, Ink Storm The Inkbrush is meant to be similar to her staff in a way! Also the movement made with a brush flick reminiscent of dancing, nothing too deep with this choice just that it fits the best out of all the weapons. Squid Beacon is in reference to her portals and goes along with Arcjec (see the desc. of his kit for details). Ink Storm is probably the weakest here since I added it only because her last name is Raines (like raining.... storms.....).

Albion (Crossfire Utility) - Heavy Splatling, Ink Mine, Booyah Bomb The Heavy was picked out mostly because its Deco version is very sparkly and shiny, like her quirk! Ink Mine is mostly to tie the kit together and Booyah Bomb is her sort of 'calling upon her friends'. I think this kit fits her a lot more towards the start of the comic but could still be applied later on.

Serpaz (Special Utility) - Big Swig Roller, Sprinkler, Ultra Stamp I tried to sort of play into the idea that she uses toolboxkind so that's why she has a paint roller and a hammer! The sprinkler is to help her build her special.

Laivan (Trick Skirmisher) - Squiffer, Splat Bomb, Triple Inkstrike A Charger for Laivan felt like the obvious choice since he's known to wield a gun (not sure exactly what kind since he doesn't have a confirmed strifespecibus from what i can tell) but I wanted him to contrast Occeus with quirk charges and shorter shots which is why I ended up giving him the Squiffer. Splat Bombs and Triple Inkstrike don't really have a big reason but I think they overall fit as a simple but effective kit.

Occeus (Anchor) - E-Liter Scope, Toxic Mist, Stingray All of these have reasons, mostly relating to the fact his strifespecibus is lazerkind. E-liter is slow charging but has a very high range, with the scope providing greater accuracy. I considered giving him the Tri-Stringer in reference to his three eyes but I feel like the E-Liter Scope feels more true to the way lazerkind works. Toxic Mist is a bit silly as it's entirely there to reference the fact he's a scientist that works with a lot of weird vials and bottles with potentially dangerous substances inside. Stingray basically works the same as lazerkind, cutting through everything around it to hit its targets.

Taz (Slayer) - Luna Blaster, Burst Bomb, Ink Armor The Luna Blaster is fast, powerful and if the direct hit doesn't get you the splash damage will! Powerful, destructive and makes sure to not leave anyone behind, that's how Taz fights. Burst Bomb isn't a reference to anything, just an effective combo with any shots with a main weapon and helpful when you need to ink something quick. Ink Armor is meant to reference how her chucklevoodoo is always active with the 'glint' in her eye, as well as how she's someone who supports others at heart.

Murrit (Slayer) - Tetra Dualies, Point Sensor, Triple Splashdown (plays Bloblobber sometimes just to piss Jentha off) This was the guy who started this whole thing so lets get into it. I chose the Tetra Dualies to allude to the fact that he uses 2xknucklekind. I was thinking to myself "what feels like getting punched in the face when playing a splatoon match?" and it 100% the Tetra Dualies. Point sensor is meant to not only portray how she keeps tabs on everyone but also how she seems like the type to hunt down her targets. Triple Splashdown is mostly because that also feels like a punch in the face (and also how the animation is literally a punch). Overall, I wanted her play style to come across as high risk, high reward.

Calder (Anchor) - Ballpoint Splatling, Curling Bomb, Kraken Royale I tried to find the best way to portray his fighting style (with three different strife specubus's) but the common theme seems to be that they're very long weapons that directly confront the target and have quick 'jabs' at the target. I think the Ballpoint with its ability to have short range bursts accompanied with long range hits, as well as the fact that the fire can be interrupted for continuous fire, portrays that. Curling Bombs feel the closest to golf balls, bouncing around the stage and being able to control how far you put it out (similar to how hard your swing is). Kraken Royale is mostly to allude to the fact that Calder is royalty. He also tends to seem commanding and in control, which is suitable for an anchor.

Obviously, there's plenty of other kits and roles that they can fit into but this is more a kit that reflects bits of themselves rather than the one they would realistically play or would be the best at. I would love to hear some of y'all's opinions on this and your own kit ideas! Here's my attempt at making Murrit in Splatoon.

[ghoultyrant]

Beachballs: a jellyfish story

Once upon a time, I spent a month at a beach on the Texas coast in the 'off-season' of that beach. My initial response to being there was to be kind of baffled as to why it was the 'off-season': it was sunny, a nice temperature, and all-around nice!

A week in, storms arrived. Brutal, oppressive storms, with torrential rain and high winds. And they kept going continuously for days, where a 'nice' day was one where the looming clouds weren't raining right this second and the wind was only moderately strong. (But the sky was still blotted out by the clouds all day long, and it still did rain on and off)

So that pretty straightforwardly explained why the of-season was, in fact, the off-season.

More interesting than all that was that one night the storms were particularly intense and I woke up in the morning to lots of jellyfish having been washed ashore by the waves: I'd previously read about jellyfish being beached, but I'd never seen it personally, and to my surprise these jellyfish largely didn't resemble what books and TV had depicted of jellyfish lying flat on the ground, dehydrated and clearly dead. There were a few like that, but most of them were actually curled up into a ball shape, mouth firmly shut, seawater trapped inside their skin. The contrast was pretty stark, because the live ones glowed a bit, while the dead ones had their internal lights inactive.

(I'd provide a picture, but this was over a decade ago, and I couldn't have taken one at the time anyway. I really wanted to, but didn't have the ability at the time)

My first thought was to figure maybe the jellyfish had gotten lucky; I already knew jellyfish don't have a brain per se, and everything I'd ever seen talk about jellyfish presented them as very passive... but the ratios made me doubtful. If it was luck, why did the living beachball jellyfish outnumber the flat dead jellyfish something like 10 to 1? That's awfully consistent for 'luck'.

After a couple hours of seeing the jellyfish continue to survive on the beach, I got curious; I had what I'm going to call a bucket (It wasn't a bucket, but explaining what it was would be a lengthy distraction), and I decided to scoop up some of these jellyfish and try to dump them back in the ocean, see if I could rescue them. (Partially because jellyfish are one of those animals nobody reacts to with It's Cute Or Something So I Feel Bad For It When It Suffers: if I didn't save these jellyfish, there was basically no chance somebody else would do it)

I very stupidly started by just walking out until the water was waist-deep and dumped them out right next to me; I didn't get stung, but I did immediately decide to not repeat that.

Even so, the result was interesting: the jellyfish immediately opened up and began pumping, orienting away from the beach, out to the open ocean. This was very striking: I'd read about jellyfish pumping to adjust their depth, but my science books and shows had never suggested a jellyfish might be capable of deliberate horizontal movement. And the fact that I dumped out 6 jellyfish at once and they all immediately oriented correctly made it difficult to believe they were picking a direction at random: they were picking the correct direction somehow.

This was promising enough -and I had nothing better to do anyway- that I took on the longer journey of taking jellyfish out to a nearby rock jetty to dump them out: once again, the jellyfish stayed curled up in a ball while they were in my bucket (Even the ones that were completely submerged by the water that was getting into the bucket), but immediately after they hit the seawater they opened up and began frantically pumping away, this time from the jetty. I did this jetty trip three times in total, and all 18~ of those jellyfish reliably made the correct decision in those conditions.

(By the third jetty trip, I was too tired to keep going, even though I kind of wanted to keep at it. By the time I had the energy plus time available, the remaining beached jellyfish had all gone flat and dark, dead. Alas)

So that was all fascinating and raised a lot of questions about jellyfish intelligence, senses, etc, not to mention made me heavily doubt the default Passive Filter Feeder characterization all my science materials had told me.

(Incidentally, I tried digging into if modern science documented this behavior in the over-a-decade since my original experience, but as far as I can tell, no: as of July 15, 2024, this appears to still be an undocumented behavior. All I can find is the same ol' same ol' stuff about helpless filter feeders washing helplessly up on beaches and dying with no attempt to stave off their oncoming deaths.)