#i’m so close to writing some fanfic for that show

[doctor-mccoys-sanity]

if i start writing fanfic for The Thick of It someone please save me

[1800-fight-me]

Devout Worshiper

Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Rating: E (EXPLICIT - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Warnings: Explicit sex! This is literally pure smut.

Word count: About 3.3k

Synopsis: The Prince Regent expresses his carnal desire and devotion to you atop the Iron Throne.

Author’s note: We were robbed! I can't believe they never showed us Aemond sitting on the Iron Throne or wearing a crown! So anyway I tried to fix it with this fic- please accept my humble offering.

I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Here's the link to my Aemond Masterlist if you want to check out my other stories! Also my requests are open, please send me some more!!

It was long after the moon rose and the knocking on your chamber door was loud and insistent. It made you nervous, and as you opened the door your confusion only grew. 

A kingsguard stood in your doorway. 

“My lady, the Prince Regent requests your presence in the throne room.” He said sternly, making it clear it was more of a demand than a request. 

Prince Regent? 

Trepidation filled you, but you only nodded demurely and followed his lead. 

You flinched as thunder cracked loud enough to hurt your ears. Flashes of lightning lit your way through the halls of the Red Keep as rain poured. 

The kingsguard opened the door to the throne room and gestured for you to enter. He did not follow you, only closed the door behind you, sealing you in. 

Lightning flashed again and you saw the Prince Regent where he lounged on the iron throne. His long silver hair practically shimmered in the low light, his legs were spread, and his gaze was heart stoppingly intimidating. 

Your heart skipped a beat, but for a completely different reason. 

“Aemond,” you breathed out, walking forward again so eagerly you nearly tripped over your own feet. 

You heard that he and Vhagar had returned to King’s Landing after the battle, but hadn't seen him yet. He looked good, completely himself, not a scratch on him and not a hair out of place. You were so relieved. 

He murmured your name too, strong unidentified 

emotion behind the syllables. 

As you beheld your childhood best friend, he looked the same, but something about him was completely changed. Perhaps it had something to do with the conqueror’s crown that rested upon his brow. 

You stopped walking as you reached the bottom of the stairs of the throne. 

“What-“

”Aegon was grievously harmed in the battle, I have been named Prince Regent while he heals,” he explained. 

You nodded, you had heard the King was hurt. 

“And you, are you alright?” 

He smiled crookedly and nodded. 

You stared up at him, for the first time in your life uncertain about what to say to your childhood companion. The circumstances of this conversation were far different than any other time you spoke to him. 

He beckoned you forward, and feeling jittery you 

tentatively made your way up the steps of the iron throne. 

As you reached him, relief overcame you and you laid your hand on his cheek. 

“I’m so glad you’ve returned unharmed. I was so worried for you. I don’t know what I would do if-“ 

He shushed you gently as he placed a large hand on your waist and pulled you closer to him, leading you to stand between his spread legs. 

You knew that none of this was proper. 

“I am here,” he murmured and nuzzled his face into your hand. 

Your heart thumped harder as you tried to pull your hand away, but he intertwined his fingers with yours and prevented you, instead running his nose gently across your skin, invoking goosebumps. 

He took a deep breath as his nose reached your wrist and let out a soft groan. 

Your knees threatened to buckle. 

You should pull away. Walk away. This was wrong, wrong, wrong. You were betrothed to another man. He was betrothed to a woman who was not you. 

“I thought of nothing but your scent throughout the battle, of returning home to you and smelling you once more,” he said, his voice low and deep, before he pressed his lips to your wrist. 

“Aemond,” you protested weakly. 

“Claiming you as mine,” he continued, trailing his lips further up your arm, pushing away the fabric in search of your skin. 

“It is a sin,” you protested. 

About a year ago Queen Alicent caught you and Aemond in a passionate kiss, it was not the first kiss between the two of you, and reprimanded you both sharply. Reminded you both that your maidenhood must remain intact and that developing feelings for one another was folly as it was highly likely you would both be betrothed to others. 

Her words were sharp and you took them to heart. You did your best to squash your feelings for Aemond and treat him only as a friend. 

But feelings that strong don’t merely disappear… and it seemed Aemond’s desire for you remained as fiery as ever. 

“Nothing between you and I could ever be a sin. We were made for each other,” he said urgently, his lips now reaching the skin revealed by your collar as he pulled you even closer. 

Your breath hitched in your throat. 

“We are betrothed to marry others,” you said even as you whined at the feel of his lips against your throat. 

“Fuck that,” he said as he bit down on the most sensitive part of your neck. 

Your grip on his shoulder tightened even as you plunged your other hand in his hair at the back of his head and held him closer, tighter, never wanting to be apart from him again. 

He chuckled darkly and licked up your throat to your jaw. 

“Aemond,” you panted and he pulled back enough to look you in the eye, one hand slipping to caress the side of your face. 

“You are mine,” he growled. 

You whimpered. 

“Say it,” he ordered. 

“I’m yours,” you breathed out. 

You stared into his violet gaze, overwhelmed by the emotion you beheld. 

“And I am yours,” he said. 

“And you are mine,” you repeated. 

You weren’t sure who moved first, but his lips crashed into yours, and it was like coming up for air. You couldn’t breathe without him, hadn’t been able to breathe properly in a year, and now in his arms with his lips covering yours, your breaths came properly.

He pulled back all too soon, and said, “We will say our vows again on the morrow in the sept. I am Prince Regent now, I sit upon the Iron Throne, no one can deny us. You will be mine for the rest of our lives.” 

The crack in your heart that has festered over the last year healed over instantly and you scrambled upon his lap as you kissed him once more. 

As your tongue tangled with his and you both gripped one another tighter, as he held you closer than you’d ever been held. 

‘Finally, finally, finally’ your heart and soul sang. He let out a cocky chuckle and you realized you’d said the words out loud. 

He pulled your legs apart, spreading them as you settled more comfortably on his lap, your dress no longer a barrier between the two of you as his tongue flicked against yours. 

Heat ran up your spine as the taste of him filled your mouth, as your blood pounded through your veins, as he somehow managed to pull you even closer- practically crushing you against him. 

His hand ran up from your waist, his palm enveloping and gently squeezing your breast, and an erotic moan escaped from your lips, spilling into his mouth. 

He pulled your mouth closer, tangling his tongue with yours as he moaned back. His fingers began to tug at the laces of your bodice, and you pulled back with a small gasp. 

“Aemond,” you whispered in concern, looking back to make sure you were well and truly alone. 

“I ordered them to leave us be and guard the doors. No one will interrupt us,” he reassured as he tugged again at the tie covering your heaving bosom. 

Your breasts spilled from your dress as you stared into his eye. You reached around his head and unbuckled the eyepatch, letting it fall to the side, rendering him bare too as the sapphire eye glittered- a reflection of the flashing lightning. 

His gaze dropped to your chest, and with hands on your waist he led you to move your hips, grinding down on his hardened length.  

Your whimper turned into a gasp as his lips left hot opened mouthed kisses that trailed from the hollow of your throat to your breasts. 

As his mouth enveloped your nipple, his tongue swirled on the sensitive bud and you let out a breathy, “Oh!”. You continued to grind down on him, your breaths quickening as heat filled your core. 

His thumb flicked your other nipple as he suckled and moaned. The crown on his head slid down on his forehead for the third time, getting in his way and irritating him. He yanked it off his brow and placed it on your head before returning his attention to your breasts. 

Your head fell back and you moaned wantonly at the eroticism of the action. His hands yanked at your skirts, rucking them up enough that his long warm fingers met the sensitive skin of your upper thighs. 

You shivered at his touch even as a bead of sweat dripped down your spine in the cold throne room. 

Never, you’d never been touched in such a way, never been worshiped in such a way, never had the love of your life fully expressed his devotion to you. And when his fingers slipped into your slick and lust swollen cunt, you knew you’d be his until the day you died.

Those fingers teased and rubbed, finding their way to the pinpoint of your pleasure and you gasped so loud it echoed throughout the room. 

He hummed in approval, his lips quirking into a smirk as he looked up at you and you yanked on his hair pulling him into another heated kiss. 

His finger, that damned finger, swirled around your clit and you bit his lip. 

He hissed your name and sunk a finger inside your desperate cunt. This, this was heaven. Fuck the gods and religion, you were his and he was yours and nothing else mattered. 

He slipped another finger inside you, pumping them in and out gently and you moaned as you clenched around those perfect fingers. 

“You’re perfect like this,” he groaned and you whined once more at the praise and with the flick of his thumb against your clit you gasped his name. 

His breaths came heavier as he watched you near your peak, the pupil in his eye lust blown, and the type of adoration in his gaze you’d always yearned for from him. 

Heat coiled in your core, your heartbeat pounded throughout your whole body, and with a moan of his name you came harder than your own fingers had ever brought you. 

His lips were on yours, consuming and devouring you hungrily, swallowing the sounds of pleasure from your lips that only he could elicit. 

Your desire for him did not diminish, no you needed him somehow even more now. You wiggled your hand between the two of you and ran your hand across his hardened cock. 

He moaned into your mouth, and feeling emboldened, you began to attempt to free it from his tight pants. He chuckled, placed a kiss on your jaw and took mercy on you, and assisted you. 

You wrapped your hand around his hardened length, trepidation filling you at the size of him, and you looked back up at his face with a shaky breath, suddenly feeling bashful at your lack of experience.  

Doubt flickered in your mind, what if you couldn’t please him? What if- 

His lips were on yours once again, he kissed you with a steadfastness that reminded you that this was in no way meaningless, this was Aemond - your best friend- expressing his love for you. 

“I’ve got you,” he murmured in your ear as he trailed his lips across your throat. His large hand wrapped around your much smaller one and guided you to wrap your hand around his cock. 

You whimpered in desire as he continued to guide you to stroke his throbbing length. He led you to twist your wrist, showed you where to grip tighter, guided you to pump his cock up and down until he was groaning. 

He let go of your hand, and you continued to pleasure him, feeling more powerful than ever before as you held the cock of the Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, as he again dipped his head and encapsulated your nipple in his warm wet mouth. 

You both whimpered in pleasure, and as you ran your other hand through his silver tresses, pulling his head closer into your chest, you felt that there was nothing better in this life than this. 

Until he lifted his head once more, his eye wide and filled with love, and you crushed your lips into his. 

His hand met yours once more, brushing yours away, and he guided his cock to the entrance of your sopping cunt as you settled your hips over his once more. 

Your breaths came heavier as he said, “You are mine.” 

“I’m yours,” you responded, nodding and following his guidance as you began to sink your hips down on his throbbing cock. 

You winced slightly at the stretch, but he ran a hand up and down your back, pulled you closer to him- your chest crushing against his, and dripped honeyed reassurances in your ear.

”You can fit me, my love. You were made for me,” he said. 

Your heart burned for him, and with his grip on your hip you managed to take him completely inside your soaked cunt.  

The frantic feeling in both of you eased as you sat on his lap, stuffed full of him, and felt complete in a way you never had before. 

Your hands ran across his chest, up his shoulders and down to his biceps, gripping the corded muscle you found everywhere. In tandem, he ran his hands up and down your curves, gripping the flesh he found, until his hands enveloped your ass. 

He gripped your ass and led you to shift your hips, grinding down on him in a circular motion. You let out a breathy, “oh!” The feel of him inside of you as you shifted, moving in an erotic way you’d never moved before, threatened to overcome you. 

“You are perfect,” he reassured and you clenched down on him, causing you both to moan. 

When you were ready, he then guided you to lift your hips up until his cock was almost completely out of your cunt, then you sunk back all the way down, sucking him inside your desperate hole, becoming his in a way that was irreversible. 

“Aemond,” you gasped as you repeated the action, continuing to let him guide you. You finally learned how good it felt to be full, to be so full of him you realized how empty and aching for him you’d felt for years. 

His grip tight on you, stuffed full of his cock, as his teeth bit down on your neck, you’d never felt so alive- so free. 

And so you found a rhythm, bounding up and down on his cock, bringing you both pleasure unlike any other. 

With his hands on your hips, your pace quickened, and one of your hands slipped from his shoulder, looking for more leverage and you cut yourself on a blade of the throne. 

You yanked your hand back with a gasp, ceasing your motions atop him, and he looked at you wide eyed. 

“What is it?” He asked and you placed your hand in his. He surveyed the small cut on your finger, you both realized it was small, barely more than a papercut really, you were lucky, and then he brought your hand to his lips. 

You blinked in surprise as he enveloped your finger in his mouth, lips parting and tongue licking the blood off it. 

You stared at him in shock for one moment, two, then three…. long enough that his expression became bashful, before you crushed your lips into his, pillaging his mouth with your tongue, desperate to taste yourself inside his mouth. 

He moaned as his hand on the back of your neck pulled you closer, and then you were both moving again. 

You felt blissful, stretched out in such a wonderful way, and desperate for anything he threw at you. 

“Made for me,” he breathed out once again against your lips. 

“You’re mine,” you replied as you ground down on him. 

He huffed out something between a chuckle and a moan, and with a tight grip of your hips, he said, “I am yours until the day I die.” 

He punctuated every word with a sharp thrust inside you, and with that he took control from you. You gave it to him gladly, and held onto his shoulders, tangled your fingers in his hair as he thrust up inside you at a pace that kept you from breathing properly. 

There was a spot inside you, that you’d explored before with your fingers, but never once had you felt like this as his cock hit that spot repeatedly. Your toes curled and you whined his name in a high pitched voice you didn’t even recognize as your own. 

“For so long I dreamed of what noises I could pull from your lips. Mmmm… the real thing is so much better than anything I could have imagined,” he purred in your ear. 

Your only possible response was a gasp and clenching on his thick length as your mind had separated from your body, there was only him and the pleasure his body provided yours. 

His muttered words in high valyrian, sweet promises of devotion as he continued to fill you. He filled your body, your heart, your soul, and the only expression of devotion you could return was to come on his cock. 

With a moan and a squelch you gushed around him and he gasped, holding you tighter, somehow increasing his pace- the intensity of his thrusts as he followed you over the edge. 

With one final push inside your cunt, he climaxed inside you, filling you with his come, and it was all you could do to kiss him, sloppily and desperate, as he marked you as his. 

You rested your head in his shoulder, breathing him in as you both came down and attempted to slow your heart rates. 

He tattooed his name against your being as he pressed his lips to any bare skin he could reach. 

“I love you,” you whispered, completely baring yourself to him, feeling more vulnerable than ever before, despite your state of undress, despite the fact that he was still inside you. 

“I have loved you for as long as I have known what love is, and I will continue to do so until I am ashes in the wind,” he swore, pulling back to meet your gaze. 

You could only wrap your arms tighter around him and hold him. 

Eventually, he disentangled the two of you, but swatted your hands away as you attempted to retie your bodice. 

“I never said I was done with you,” he growled. 

A shiver ran down your sweat slicked spine. 

You merely let him lead you to stand, watched as he tucked himself back into his pants, then he led you to sit on the iron throne. 

“Aemond,” you protested, but he merely shook his head at you, took a step back, and stared at you. 

There was desire, possessiveness, and feral satisfaction in his eye as he looked you up and down in your disheveled state that he caused. 

You could only imagine how you looked, sprawled on a throne you had no right to sit on, your breasts spilling from your dress, your hair disheveled, and a Targaryen crown crooked utop your head. 

But the Prince Regent only kneeled before you. 

Any doubts of his allegiance, any doubts in him flew away like feathers in the wind as Aemond Targaryen knelt before you, bowed his silver head, then lifted your skirts and spread your legs. 

His groan was drowned out by your loud gasp as he began to feast on you. 

Aemond ruined you and made you anew in the throne room that night, and at dawn the next morning he brought you to the sept and made good on his promise to marry you. 

Damn the consequences and opinions of others, before all the gods Aemond Targaryen declared his devotion to you above all. 

[rinhaler]

I’m begging you to write a bimbo x Toji fanfic

IM ON MY KNEES PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE IM BEGGING YOU🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

Been in a BJ mood so enjoy some 69ing xoxo

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, bimbo!reader, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby), daddy kink, spanking, 69ing, messy blowjob + pussy eating (duh), head pushing, praise, dumbification, degradation, age gap, exhibitionism ig?

words: 2.1k

“He’s not here, sweetheart.”

The bass of his voice rattles throughout your nervous system. And before you know it, you’re squeezing your thighs together and biting your lip as you look up at him, the way he almost entirely fills the space between the door frame. A slow smirk beginning to play on his lips as he watches you.

You’ve had a crush on your best friends dad since the first time he brought you over to hang out. He didn’t seem particularly interested in you, at first. Not until your skirts got shorter and your tops became skimpier.

“We had plans…” you pout a little, glossy lips shimmering in the afternoon sun. He clears his throat, adjusting his stance a little as he continues to look down at you.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, a little more curtly than intended. “And what plans were those?”

“Mm,” you hum, flicking through your texts to pull up your thread with Megumi. “Wanna hang out on Thursday? I can get us some booze and we can relax around the pool. My dad will be at wor— wait, you’re not at work?”

“Because it’s Monday, baby. Not Thursday.” he laughs a little as he shows you the date on his own phone. “Got a little confused there, huh? He’s at the library with the pink haired one, he ain’t here.”

“Oh…” you pout again. “’m sorry. I guess I should be studying too, I’ll go meet him there. See ya later Mister Fushiguroooo~!” you smile before beginning to skip away.

“Hey,” he calls after you. A grin quickly spreads across your face before you turn to face him again. He kisses his teeth, looking you up and down slower and more purposefully than ever before. He curls his finger, prompting you to come closer. “You’re all dressed for the beach, not the library. You can come in ‘n wait for him here, baby. You even brought your li’l swimsuit in your bag, huh? Come on.” he tilts his head as he walks inside.

You follow him hurriedly, closing the door after yourself when you enter. He doesn’t wait around for you, jogging up the stairs and shutting the door loudly after himself. You huff, wondering what the point of coming inside was if you’re just gonna be waiting by yourself anyway.

It doesn’t deter you, though. You dip into the downstairs bathroom and change into your swimsuit, sauntering outside to set up a lounger so you can at least catch a few rays before Megumi gets back.

You lay back, immediately feeling your skin heat up as the sun burns down onto your still body. There’s a lack of breeze, and the warmth soon becomes suffocating.

But soon enough, the sun disappears. Your eyebrows scrunch at the sudden change, your body plunged into shade and your temperature drops. You open your eyes, your best friends obscenely large father blocking out the ball of fire as he stands above you.

“Here, keep hydrated.” he orders, putting down a fruity looking cocktail filled to the brim with ice by your side. His white, open shirt begins to billow from a brief gust of wind, and he takes his seat with his own drink on the lounger beside yours.

He wasn’t avoiding you after all, he was getting changed.

You lean over, taking a small sip of the cocktail by your side. “Oh shit, that’s so yummy. Did you make it?”

He smirks again, but keeps his eyes closed as he lays back under the shade of his parasol. “Nah, the butler did it.”

“Really?” you ask, excitedly.

He can’t help but laugh at your naivety, turning his head to look at you. “No, sweetheart. Have you ever seen a butler around here? Course I made it.” he tells you, drinking in your bewildered expression as how gullible you are begins to dawn on you. “You ain’t too bright, are ya?”

“That’s—” you speak instantly, but put your drink back down to soak up the sun once more. “Mean.”

“Awe, sorry darlin’,” he smiles at you, but you don’t see it. “At least you’re pretty.”

He angles his head to face the sun, while yours snaps to look at him. You can’t hide your wide, cheesy smile as the words race through your mind.

At least you’re pretty.

At least you’re pretty.

At least you’re—

“You think I’m pretty?” you blurt out, though you feel no shame as the words leave your mouth. It’s the best thing you’ve ever heard another human being say to you in your life. Megumi’s hot dad thinks you’re pretty.

“You’re not that dumb, are you?” he faces you, finally, running his tongue along his top row of teeth. “You’re a gorgeous little thing, that’s for sure. Gonna give an old man like me the wrong idea, walkin’ around in a skimpy swimsuit like that.”

“The wrong idea?” you tilt your head at him. “I dunno what you mean, Mister Fushiguro.”

“Mmm, I betch’a don’t. I love li’l airheads like you.” he sneers. “Or maybe you know exactly what I mean, ‘n you’re just pretending to be dumb.”

You pout again as you think about what he’s saying. He watches you as you try and understand his words, the notion of pretending to be anything utterly perplexing you. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, though he’s a little surprised to see you roll onto your side so you can look at him properly.

“… Are you flirting with me?” you wonder.

“Hah,” he snickers. “You’re really tryna get me in trouble, huh? Would ya like that?”

“… uh-huh…” you nod slowly, biting your lip again. You watch as he smirks at you, adrenaline running through your veins as you wonder where this is heading. Is he simply teasing you?

“Have you got a li’l crush on me, sweetheart? That’s real bad. Remember who I am? Your best friends old man.”

“You’re not an old man,” you try to assure him. But he can only laugh at your idiocy once more. “Had a crush on you forever…” you admit, getting up from your lounger and walking over to his. You decide to take the risk, moving each of your legs on either side of him before slowly lowering yourself.

He bites his own lip, aged scar pulling deliciously as he smooths his hands over the curves of your waist. A grunt rumbles through his throat as you barely move, lightly humping against his stiffening cock.

And in an instant, your bikini is soaked.

You rut your hips more, and more, until he holds you still.

“Wanna fuck.” you whimper, and he starts to tut.

“Mmm, me too. Maybe next time.” he thinks, cock flexing as he imagines the feeling of your tight walls wrapping around him so perfectly. “Wan’ you to put that empty head of yours to good use.” he tells you.

A dazed expression decorates your face as you try and decode what he means. But instead of leaving you confused, he carefully pushes you away from his growing bulge so he can pull out his leaking length.

“Go on, princess. Suck me off.” he tells you.

You’re too astonished by the sight of his cock to even move. A beautiful thickness with a gorgeous curve you can only use as a fantasy for future reference as you imagine it hitting and stretching every spot inside.

He’s amazed that you don’t need to be told twice, however, you soon position yourself to take his length into your salivating mouth. You look up at him with wide, wet eyes as you kiss and suck his tip. Only looking away to spit into your hand, using it to jerk him off whilst you continue to suck like your life depends on it.

He can’t take his eyes off you, even taken aback as you further pull down his beach shorts to free his balls. He’s besotted at the sight of you, completely and wholly lovestruck as you produce enough saliva to completely soak his length, spittle dripping and sliding as it drenches his cock and balls. He winces as you cup them, licking up and down his cock before you suck one into your mouth.

All the while, your eyes are on him. Never before has he felt embarrassed whilst receiving head. But right now, he feels entirely at your mercy. He holds your gaze, though, intent on overriding the feelings of embarrassment as you turn him into a grunting and groaning puddle.

“Fuuuuuck, sweetheart,” he grins, chest heaving as you don’t let up on him. Your fist becomes a blur, and even still, he can’t stop himself from thrusting into your grip. “Pretty little girl… look s’cute with your mouth full’a my cock.”

You moan, at that. The praise overwhelming you enough to release one of his balls from your mouth before you go back to sucking him off. You take him deeper and deeper, as deep as you can take him without showing any signs of gagging.

“Such a good cocksucker for me, baby,” he tells you as he starts to push your head down on him. “Knew that an airhead like you would be a fucking pro.”

“G-Got such a big dick, daddy.” you tell him as you push off of him, desperate to tell him. He drags you up closer to him, kissing you sloppily as your body presses into his. You lie comfortably in his embrace in the shaded spot, moaning into his mouth as you grind down on his cock. “P-Please fuck me.”

“Oh, princess… does your little cunt need daddy’s attention?” he wonders, kissing you again. “Told ya, I want my cock sucked.” he slaps your ass. “Move, go on.” he orders, though despite his instruction, he begins to manhandle you.

You’re soon positioned so you’re practically sitting on his face while his throbbing cock is back in yours. He moves the material of your bikini into the crease of your thigh and gives your pussy a light spank.

“Don’t stare at it, sweetheart. Suck my cock, now.”

You immediately do as you’re told, taking him down your throat while he teases you enough to have you trembling. Touching anywhere and everywhere except where you need him most. Until finally, he places a delicate kiss between your sodden folds.

“Baby, she’s drooling. You really do have a crush on me.” he chuckles. He wastes no more time, after that, burying his face between your thighs and slurping up your lewdness. He moans into your folds before he shoves two fingers into your clenching hole.

His cock falls from between your lips, then, and you moan loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to hear you. He slaps your ass again, and it’s hard. “Shut up.” he warns. “I won’t let you cum if you do that again.”

The warning is enough to make you focus yourself on his pleasure. His mouth is making your toes curl and your head become emptier than even he thought possible. Tears begin to flow from your eyes as you do all you can to prioritise him and keep your moans to yourself.

Your throat tightens and constricts the more you withhold. You can’t control it fully, still humming around him. It’s somewhat calculated, yes. But the thought of being caught or ratted out to Megumi is making him a little more cautious. Then again, if he really didn’t wanna be caught, he wouldn’t be fucking his sons best friend in the backyard.

He pulls away, still curling his fingers into your g-spot as his face shimmers from your sticky folds. “Can’t believe you called me daddy you little slut,” he spanks you. “That’s right, isn’t it baby? You’re daddy’s dumb little slut.”

“Mhmm!” you mewl. “Mmm, mmm, mmm~!” you whine as you begin to unfurl. Your cunt squeezes hard enough to almost break his fingers, though it doesn’t deter him from devouring you whole. He begins to thrust up into your mouth, and he shoots ribbon after ribbon of hot white cum between your drool soaked lips.

Neither of you move, both exhausted from the overwhelming release.

“Wh— Did that just… happen?” you ask, breathlessly.

“Sure did,” he laughs, slapping your ass as he does. “You need to give me your number, baby. I gotta be able to text you when Megumi ain’t home.”

“Hm…” you consider it. “Why would I come over again when Megumi isn’t here?”

“God, princess, you really can’t think why? Daddy wants to be able to split your pussy open on his cock whenever he wants. Don’t want Megumi home for that, do ya baby?”

“N-No…” you sigh dreamily, closing your eyes as you finally move to lie comfortably beside him. “You better fuck me next time!”

“Next time?” he grins. “Megs won’t be home for a few hours. I’ll fuck you in a few minutes, sweetheart.”

© 2024 rinhaler

[samzzarella]

Can you write a fanfic about Se-Mi where reader is cheating on her bf for Se-Mi— or maybe reader has unsupportive parents so she has to hire a fake bf just so she can have a relaxing with Se-Mi???

(no rush in writing, take your time!!)

I hope you like it!!

THINK THAT I’M GONNA STEAL YOU FROM HIM, I COULD BE SUCH A GENTLEMAN

~ pairing: se-mi/player 380 x reader

~ BIKER SE-MI!!, cute stuff, CW: cheating (kinda)

You mourned the loss of your Friday night that you had planned to spend with a hot cup of tea and a cheesy rom-com, and had instead been dragged to a party by your ‘boyfriend’. The blaring music was giving you a headache, and you just felt tired. What were you doing here? You didn’t even like this guy. But he fit the description of someone your parents would approve of, even if it was just from the outside. A ‘Mr. Nice guy’ so you wouldn’t have to deal with any more pestering. And so you had spent the evening tailing behind him, uncomfortable under his arm as he talked to all of his ‘corporate bros’. Pretty soon, you had had enough. “I’m going to the bathroom”, you huffed, tugging at your tight dress. He barely looked at you as he nodded. You could barely conceal your eye-roll as you walked away.

When you came back out to find your boyfriend, he wasn’t where you’d left him. You didn’t know anyone here, feeling nervous as you searched for him. You spotted him next to the bar, and were about to approach him when you noticed the girl next to him. She had his hand on his chest as they flirted with each other. That piece of shit. He had come here with you and had the audacity to flirt with someone else the second you weren’t there. You were upset, but there was no point in causing a scene. After all, you didn’t really care about him.

I should just leave, you thought. You turned around, heading towards the door when you saw her. A gorgeous girl, tall and lanky, stood in a corner, chatting with some guy. She was wearing a baggy button-up shirt, a tie hung loose around her neck. Wide black jeans hung low on her hips, the waistband of her boxers peeking out. One of her hands clutched a beer bottle, showing off the rings on her slender fingers, the other one fiddling with the ring at her lip. The sight of her knocked the breath out of you. You couldn’t pull your eyes away from her, and she seemed to notice because her gaze met yours. She grinned at you, saying something to the boy before heading in your direction.

“Hey there”, she said, her voice perfectly husky, “I’m Se-mi, and you are…?”. You blurted your name out, barely being able to conceal your nerves. She chuckled, the sound whiskey-smooth. Soon, you were able to ease into the conversation as you talked about this and that. Se-mi was captivating, charming, and you couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to be with someone like her. Attentive, sweet, unlike the boys you’d dated in the past.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard the song streaming through the speakers. “You wanna dance?”, you asked, a cheeky smile on your face. Se-mi raised her eyebrows, “Sure”. You both joined the cluster of people that were already dancing at the centre of the room. You liked the song, and it was easy to sway to the music, arms above your head. Se-mi was a little more awkward, her movements more stiff than yours, but she seemed to be enjoying herself. You moved closer to her, mischief in your eyes as you smirked up at her.

Her demeanour completely changed as she placed her hands on your hips, pulling you closer. You looped your arms around her neck as you swayed to the music, body flush against hers. She matched your rhythm, looking down at you in a way that made your knees weak. When she was close like this, you could smell her cologne, and god she smelled so good. Suddenly feeling shy, you pulled your gaze down, away from hers. “What a sweet thing you are”, she preened as her hand left your hip, a finger tipping your chin up, “Don’t be so shy”. You sucked in a breath as her face inched closer. Softly, she pressed her lips against yours. You could feel her fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips, heat sparking up your spine as she kissed you hungrily. Your knees nearly buckled as she slid her tongue into your mouth, the cool metal of her tongue piercing against your warm flesh. She was nearly panting as she asked, “How about we get out of here, huh?”. You nodded as she gave you a wolfish grin.

As you approached the door to leave, you realized, “Wait… I need to tell you something”. She turned back at you, eyebrows raised. “What? Is everything ok?”, she seemed worried as she asked.

“Um, no, it’s just… I didn’t come alone tonight. I…uh… I was here with my boyfriend. But it’s a bit complicated. I don’t actually like him that much and he’s…-“

“Hey, hey relax. I know already. I saw you walk in with him… and I also saw him flirting with another girl… so I assumed he was a douche”, she shrugged,” Don’t worry”, she leaned down, her lips brushing your earlobe, “I can do much better than him”.

You felt the blood rushing to your face as she chuckled. She gave you a sweet smile as she said, “But I understand if you don’t want to rush into anything. We can just…get to know each other tonight. What’d you say?”

You grinned, “That’ll be great”.

“Let’s go then”, She intertwined her fingers with yours, pulling you out the door. She led you to where her motorcycle was parked. She was a biker?? Fuck, that’s so hot, you thought “Will you be comfortable on this?”, she said as she handed you a helmet. “Yeah, I’ll be fine”, you pulled down the hem of your dress as you got on behind her.

“Hold on tight, ok? Oh and, what do you think about getting ice cream?”

“I’d love that”

Your hands were firm around her waist as you took off into the night. You closed your eyes as the world rushed past you.

°°••....••°°

You both ate the ice cream Se-mi had bought as you strolled beside a nearby lake that was glimmering like a gem under the moonlight. You talked and you made her laugh and the night felt enchanting, a new excitement simmering underneath your veins. You were hopeful, and this felt like the start of something special.

“I don’t even know what you saw in him”, Se-mi laughed incredulously. You sucked your teeth, “Honestly… it was just a ‘if I get a boyfriend will you leave me alone, mom’ kinda situation. But I’m totally gonna dump him. I don’t think I actually care what anybody has to say about my life anymore”.

“Well, I’m happy for you”

You both had stopped walking, now facing each other. “Thanks”, your voice had become impossibly soft as your gaze pulled down to her lips. You cupped her cheek, thumb caressing her skin softly. You kissed her then, and it was wildly different from the kiss at the party. This one was tender, and you could taste the chocolate on her lips. Her arm was around your waist, holding you close, as both your hands were now holding her face. You parted, eyes fluttering open and the moment was pure magic.

°°••....••°°

After that perfect night, Se-mi took you home, saved your number and kissed you good night. As she was leaving, she chewed on her lower lip as she said, “Can’t wait for our next date, sweetheart”.

Btw, I’m a slut for Biker Se-mi, and I will definitely be writing more of her!

[paxtito]

valentine

pairings: wednesday x fem!reader

word count: 2.55k

warnings: smut 18+, mentions of dissecting animals, strap-on referred to as cock (w receiving)

summary: enid convinces you to get wednesday a valentine’s gift so you think of something morbid, reader is a shape-shifter and a huge arachnophobe

a/n: this is my first time writing a fanfic let alone smut so do keep that in mind ;)

MASTERLIST

⋆ ♰.˚🦇🕸️ˎˊ˗

The rain creates a relaxing sound against the greenhouse’s glass as Miss Thornhill teaches. It’s so relaxing that you’re one blink away from the spectacular thing that is sleep. Your eyes feel heavy and slowly roll back every so often, it’s taking all your willpower not to fall asleep. Most of the other students are listening, and some messing about. Enid’s giggling can be heard which causes Miss Thornhill to send her a knowing glare with a raised brow. Enid, who is sitting a row down from you, quickly becomes quiet, her face turning red, almost like a beetroot.

You then avert your gaze to the girl sitting next to you, Wednesday. You can’t help but wonder how she has such good posture… with how straight she’s sitting, there’s no way on Earth her back doesn’t hurt. But, there’s no denying that you feel like you’ve got a back of an 80-year-old.

09:38

That’s what the clock reads. You groan internally, still another 22 minutes left of the lesson. At least you don’t have to write and give your poor hand a workout… right?

After spending the majority of the lesson talking about the plant that’s situated (in seed form) on every desk, Miss Thornhill finally instructs the class to plant it in their designated plant pot.

Wednesday takes the watering can before looking over at you with a deadpan expression.

You frown, too tired to even understand what she’s signalling. You stare at her blankly before speaking. “Wha-“

“-The seed.” She points out the obvious, her once deadpan expression turning into a slight glare at your laziness.

You take the seed out of the packet, placing it into the dirt but you jump, quickly pulling your hand away. “Fuck me! There’s a spider!” You push yourself away from the desk. If it wasn’t obvious by now; you’ve got arachnophobia.

Miss Thornhill’s eyes widen at the sudden commotion. She averts her gaze to you and Wednesday. You’re sat quite a distance away from your desk whereas Wednesday just rolls her eyes, returning to the task.

“Y/N, please. Be more mindful of your language.” Miss Thornhill affirmed, causing a few students to turn their heads. Her tone is stern but soft at the same time, giving her that nurturing presence.

“I’m sorry, miss- but I almost just died.” You protested an expression of disbelief painted on your face. Still shaken by the whole thing. It’s hairy legs… ugh. You close your eyes with a frown, shivering as you recall what you’d just witnessed. Your response elicits a few muffled chuckles from your classmates.

Miss Thornhill just sighs in response, crossing her arms and looking at you with a sympathetic expression. “If I hear any more of that language coming out of your mouth; you’ll get detention.” You let out a small sigh at her words, slumping down into your chair out of defeat.

Wednesday glances at you from the corner of her eye, an amused yet displeased look. “Remind me, why do I entertain you with my company?” She mutters, not at all amused by your little show with the spider.

You let out a small huff at her words, crossing your arms and moving closer to the table. “Where did it go?” You ask, warily looking over at the plant pot.

“I threw it across the classroom,” Wednesday replied nonchalantly. Placing the watering can back down once she’d finished.

Your eyebrows raise, looking over at her with a heartfelt pout. “Aww, thank you, Wends!” You jokingly put a hand over your heart, showcasing your ‘appreciation’ of such affection.

“I didn’t do it for you. It was merely a distraction to me. Don’t flatter yourself.” She responds, looking over at you with a glare. Her back is still as straight as ever and her arms are crossed. Deep down both you and her know she did it for you.

The bell soon rings, signalling the end of the lesson. You stand up, tucking in your chair before picking up your bag. Wednesday’s already gone, it’s as if she just vanishes into thin air the moment the bell rings. Not once have you seen her leave the classroom.

Enid quickly catches up to you, both her hands resting on her backpack’s straps. She smiles brightly, it’s sickening how happy she always is.

“So… Have you got Wednesday anything for good ole Valentine’s Day? You do know that’s tomorrow?” She proclaimed, her eyes wide with anticipation as she strides beside you in the hallway.

You let out a small sigh, rolling your eyes. “You know how she feels about that day. She ‘doesn’t see the point in such a frivolous and commercialised holiday.’” You mimic, making a bad impression of her.

Enid pouts, looking at you with puppy eyes. It’s irritating how nosy and obsessed she is with you and Wednesday’s relationship. It’s as though she doesn’t know what privacy is or what boundaries are.

“Come ooonnn, Y/N! Get her something!” She presses, it’s obvious you’re not going to win this. You clench your jaw, looking over at her before sighing. You hesitate before nodding. Enid swirls in response, jumping up and down ever so slightly which elicits a few glares from the other students in the hallway. She ends up bumping into a student, she’s too distracted apologising so you take this as a chance to slip away.

⋆ ♰.˚🦇🕸️ˎˊ˗

21:53

That’s what your phone read. Throughout the day you’d been thinking about the perfect gift for Wednesday. You’re lying on your back in bed. Yoko, your roommate, is down in the shower block, you’re alone. Your eyebrows suddenly raise, eyes widening.

Dissecting!! Dissection..? whatever.

You should catch an animal that she can… cut open? Whatever it is she does. You smile to yourself, fist-bumping the air at your spectacular idea. You take out your phone, searching up ‘popular dissecting animals.’

• frogs

• fetal pigs

• cats

You frown at the results… Not gonna kill a poor cat, where in the hell would you even get a frog and fetal pig?? You scroll down more, your eyes land on the perfect animal: a rat.

They’re everywhere, you’re also pretty sure that the school’s waste area is full of them. Easy target. You prepare for your rendezvous. Finding a carrier bag to put the rat in.

Shape-shifting into a bird of prey was your best bet at catching a rat. Especially with the limited time you had. You hate shape-shifting, your body always felt all yucky and tingly afterwards. But, as cheesy as it sounds; she’s worth it.

As soon as you sneak out of the building, the cool air hits you. It’s a clear sky, giving you a perfect view of the stars. The moonlight creates a relaxing and dark atmosphere. You walk to where the bins are. The autumn leaves crunch under your feet with each step. You place the carrier bag on the floor, making sure you’ll be able to put the rat in once you’re a bird.

You shapeshift into a hawk, perching yourself on a roof that gives you a perfect spot to spy on the area. Using the exceptional eyesight of the bird, you spot a rat. You keep your eyes locked on it, waiting for the perfect moment.

Spotting the perfect moment, you swoop down, you extend the bird’s leg, capturing the rat with your claws. You fly over to where the bag is situated, dropping the rat into it. You shape shift back into your human form, looking at the live rat. Wednesday would probably prefer it to be alive- at least that’s what you think.

⋆ ♰.˚🦇🕸️ˎˊ˗

05:00

Your alarm went off painfully early. Wednesday was always up early in the cafeteria. You saw this as a chance to give her the ‘gift.’ It may not be conventional but she’ll like it… right? In her own way.

You soon get dressed, dragging yourself out of your dorm and to the cafeteria. The plastic carrier bag in your left-hand carries the rat. It’s not moving, might be asleep or might be dead. You don’t know.

Wednesday is already there, she’s the only person besides the dinner crew there. She’s got a bowl of the odd porridge she eats every morning. You know better than to ask what’s in that. You wouldn’t be surprised if she had some bugs in there for ‘protein.’

“Hiya, Wends… Wed-nes.” You smirk, sliding yourself onto the chair opposite her. You know she hates nicknames but it’s not your fault she’s extremely fun to tease.

“Y/N.” She responds dryly, her eyes focused on her porridge. She’s happy to see you, though she’ll never admit it or show it, she is. She moves her eyes onto your face, a curious glint in them.

“You’re not usually up this early.” She states, acknowledging the fact that you’re not a morning person. It’s pretty obvious, you still look half asleep.

“I got you something for Valentine’s Day. Just hear me out before you say anything.” You plead, bringing the bag up and placing it on the table. Definitely unhygienic.

Wednesday opens her mouth to protests but decides against it. She sighs and lets go of her spoon, leaning over and looking in the bag. Her eyebrows raise ever so slightly. Not at all expect the Valentine’s gift to be an animal.

“It’s for the dissecting stuff. I don’t know what it’s called.” You shrug, adjusting yourself to a more comfortable position on the stool.

“A rat.” She hums, moving her gaze from the sleeping rat and onto you. Her face portrays the fact that she seems to be impressed.

“I don’t like such a commercialised and pointless day… But, I must say, I’m not exactly opposed to such a gift.” Her dark eyes analyse the animal in front of her. She nodded one last time before averting her eyes to your face.

You smile at her reaction. Glad that she reacted well. Wednesday on the other hand stares at you, she’s very much happy with such a thoughtful gift, but she’d never admit that- not while she’s alive anyway.

She looks around the cafeteria, making sure there are no prying eyes. She turns back to you and grabs you by your tie, pulling you into a soft kiss. The kiss conveys an unspoken ‘thank you’ from her. After a few seconds, she pulls away, going back to her breakfast.

⋆ ♰.˚🦇🕸️ˎˊ˗

Wednesday had been experimenting on the rat specimen all evening in Eugene’s shed. Holding a scalpel, she observes the rat’s organs, pulling the skin back with her gloved hands to see different angles.

By the time you’d arrived, she was finished. The shed was nice and clean, the rat nowhere to be seen and her equipment back in her satchel. Wednesday, still in the school uniform, pats her blazer down, making sure she looks presentable before turning to greet you.

“Hello.” She greets, her voice soft. She leans back against the desk that’s in the shed, her arms folded against her chest.

“I was entertained by the rat you had given me.” She says, her eyes fixated on yours before she continues hesitantly. “…Thank you.” She whispers, moving her gaze away due to the vulnerability she’s feeling.

You smile, just nodding in response. You understand she’s feeling a bit uncomfortable with how open and vulnerable she’s feeling, you don’t want to escalate those feelings. You move closer, eat step sending a surge of electricity throughout you. Your hand moves forward, gently taking her own. Leaning down, you brush your lips against hers allowing Wednesday to close the distance, which, she takes. Wednesday leans forward, capturing your lips into a dance with her own.

After a few moments, Wednesday pulls away, a small smirk on her face. She turns around and reaches for her black satchel. Her manicured nails brushed against the leather. She unzips the back and pulls out a harness- sorry… strap-on?

“How’d that even fit-“ She quickly cuts you off, lifting her cold finger to your lips, silencing you. A small amused smirk plays on her lips.

“The Addams family holds many secrets…” She purrs, her nails gently scratching your cheek, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Very relaxing. With skilled hands, she secures the strap-on around your waist, even through your clothes you can feel the cold leather. Her fingers linger, tracing the outline. You shiver at her touch, captivated by the intensity of her gaze.

“I might open up to this nauseating holiday after this…” Without wanting, she shoves you back roughly, causing you to stumble onto the floor. She straddles your body, the strap-on pressing up against her stomach. Her pale hands reach under her skirt, pulling her black lacy panties to the side.

“Inside. Now.” She says, her tone leaving no room for argument. You quickly nod, your hand wrapping around the cock and blindly positioning it at her glistening entrance under her skirt.

Once she feels the tip run against her, she lowers herself down. Impaling herself with the cock. A small sigh escapes her lips, eyes closed as she starts to move. Her hands on your shoulders for support.

“Guide me.” She coaxed, looking down into your eyes. Her face is flushed, hair slightly dishevelled. It’s a sight a single soul would never expect to see or happen. You obliged to her request- or demand, your hands move to her hips, helping her move. Her hips buck involuntarily now and then.

Over the next few minutes, her movements evoke small whimpers every so often and small sighs of pleasure. Her noises started to escape her cold lips more often, signalling she was getting closer and closer to the edge. Her forehead rests against yours as she continues to ride you, her moans and the sound of the cock entering her is all that can be heard. She kisses your cheek, letting out another small whimper as your fingers move to her sensitive bud under her skirt. Your thumb rubs tight circles against the swollen bundle of nerves, her hips grinding down on both your thumb and the cock.

“Oh- Th��� That’s it, good… pet.” She whispers breathlessly, her tone betraying how needy she is for a release. Her nails dig even tighter into your shoulders, even through your blazer you swear she’s broken your skin. Wednesday’s teeth are gritted as her movements become more forceful.

“Bite my neck… Now.” Her hands bury in your hair, using it as leverage to push you into her neck. You open your mouth, your teeth coming into contact with her neck, biting down. She throws her head back, both out of pleasure and wanting to give you more access. The metallic taste fills your mouth, hearing her noises and the taste elicits a moan from you.

“Y/N…” She moans in a growl-like manner as she climaxes, her juices coating the silicone cock. You take your hand away as you move away from her. She collapses against you, breathless as she recovers from her climax. Her hips bucking and legs still shaking around you. She pulls back and looks at you with that same smirk as she did earlier. She presses her hands against your chest, pushing you so your back is fully pressed against the floor.

“Now… Be good, pet, and lick me clean.”

⋆ ♰.˚🦇🕸️ˎˊ˗

[h0lahey]

Two months after the outbreak.

Viktor is a lot more capable than Jayce thinks. His calm demeanor and pragmatic thinking got them out of many stressful life threatening situations. He can also handle him self pretty well in physical encounters. Suspiciously well given his leg.

Viktor is infected. Had been for a few weeks. His bad leg got bit but surprisingly he feels fine. Maybe the virus isn’t as bad as they thought.

He’s even getting better but can’t bring himself to tell Jayce. Not after what happened

Jayce isn’t taking the whole apocalypse thing well. He misses his old life. Family, friends, work, everything. He’s trying not to show it but some days are worse than others.

The only thing that keeps him going is Viktor. The memory of the good times. He is constantly worried about Viktor, tries his best to take care of him. He can sometimes get a little overbearing.

Jayce clings to the idea of them being able to stop all of this and get his life back. They need to get to the checkpoint. They have to.

Okay I have a new obsession.

I want to write a fanfic so bad but my academic career would go up in flames sooo

But maybe one day I’ll break and just say fuck it xd

(I’m really close ngl)

[ichimerapunk]

Scene/ part of a story idea I want to put into a fanfic somewhere at some point

So, Danny had been staying with the Waynes. One evening without warning the GIW show up and managed to brute force their way into the manor and past Alfred just long enough to take down Danny and take off with him into one of several white vans of theirs.

The Bats, who had just left for their nightly patrol, give chase. However right before they catch up to the vans booking it out of Gotham, an 18 wheeler pulls out in front of the vans blocking their way. As several of agents pile out to confront the driver (and then pull out their guns when the truck is empty), they don’t automatically notice as the agents that were in the van containing Danny are yeeted out of the vehicle, unconscious.

The remaining agents turn in time to see what appears to be Danny being carried off by another ghost. The remaining agents pile into the remaining vans and take off down a side road to follow them. Jason and Dick are ordered to follow them. At the same time the doors of the remaining van close and Dan behind the wheel takes off.

With Sam giving directions over comms and Tucker manipulating traffic lights Dan intentionally gets as many cops as possible on his tail, driving the van just how his dad taught him in the GAV. The cops are quickly joined by Tim on his bike. During the chase Barbara manages to hack into the signals of whoever had been changing the lights and, through abnormal static, heard several voices coordinating their every move. After catching the attention of enough cops, Dan, while evading but not losing them, books it towards where the remaining vans are still chasing who they think is Danny. Dan catches up to them under an underpass/ short tunnel and uses a brief moment of being obscured by the police to wedge himself in amongst them. [Basically, take the opening chase scene from Baby Driver for the most part; I’m unashamedly taking inspiration from that.]

The vans are all unmarked and have tinted windows. The police have no way of quickly discerning which van they had been chasing down and so the now large number of police surround and forcibly stop all them. (Enjoy getting tied up with that mess for a while, agents.) As they are being stopped, Tim jumps off his bike and runs to the one he knows Danny was in only to just in time see someone that looked like Danny, but had long hair and eyes that turned from blue to red, disappear without a trace.

Above them, the two fleeing figures also disappear. Dani/Ellie* had been dressed as Danny and had been carried by a Dan duplicate. Back near where the chaos happened, Jazz slips out of her hiding spot in the shadows struggling with an unconscious and injured Danny. As soon as she slips out of her hiding spot, Batman appears having not been fooled by the distractions.  

…

That’s the basic rough idea of it. I don’t know if this scene sounds at all as epic and cool as I imagine it to be. I think hope it could actually be pretty cool if I can manage to write an action scene.

*Not sure which I would go with in the story

[spaceessiren]

Noise Complaints (Pt. 1 (?))

Logan Howlett x Reader

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem! AFAB! Reader

Warnings: smut, MINORS DNI, dry humping, slight dacryphilia (only if you squint), desperate!logan, pet names, no use of y/n, knife use (not sexual, not knifeplay)

a/n: yall pls go easy on me this is my first time ever publishing a fanfic :O. if there are any errors or if i forgot to mention any warnings or triggers please LMK! constructive criticism is heavily encouraged as i mentioned this is my first fic. ALSO so sorry i am legit incapable of writing sexual tension/ buildup forgive me! Hope you guys enjoy! let me know what you think :) (p.s. i have a part two drafted if anyone is interested i can edit it and post soon!)

It was a boring day at the X-Mansion…

You pass through the living room on the way to the kitchen to grab something to eat. Your eyes glance around the room and see Logan sitting on one of the armchairs with a cigar in his hand. Some random show is playing on the TV but you can tell he isn’t paying attention; his mind is somewhere else.

“Hey lo! Whatcha up to?”

He’s lost in thought, but his head snaps up when hears you. He looks up at you and gives you small smile, taking a drag from his cigar before responding.

“Just thinkin'. Nothin' important, Darlin'. What're you up to?”

You move across the room towards the entrance of the kitchen and point, your cheeks turning pink at his petname for you.

“Gonna make something to eat. You hungry?” You ask.

He stays silent for a moment, thinking about it, before nodding.

“Yeah, I could eat. What're you making?”

“Probably just a sandwich,” You shrug, “Nothin’ crazy”

He chuckles as he stands up and stretches a little, his shirt riding up slightly to show a sliver of his tanned stomach. He stubs out his cigar before nodding. Your eyes are glued to the small piece of tanned skin showing before his words snap your attention back to your task.

“Sure thing, Darlin'. Lead the way.”

You walk into the kitchen, Logan trailing behind you. You can feel his gaze burning into the back of you. You turn to him,

“Okay ill grab the stuff from the pantry if you wanna grab the stuff from the fridge?” He nods.

“Yeah, sure thing, Darlin’.”

He turns to the fridge and you turn towards the cabinets, searching for what you need when you notice the bread is on a high shelf out of reach

“Who the fuck put the bread up there?” You mutter under your breath and turn to ask Logan for help, leaning your back against the counter

.

“Hey Lo? Help a girl out, would you?” You ask with a fake pout making grabby hands at the bread that’s out of reach. He chuckles as you made grabby hands at it and strain to try to reach the shelf. He closes the fridge and walks over to you.

“Sure thing, Darlin'.”

Your breath hitches as you feel him pressed against you, caging you in against the counter with one of his hands resting on the counter near your hip. Looking up at him as he hands you the bread, you realize just how much taller he is than you, how much bigger.

“T-thanks, Lo,” you stutter. He smirks as he watches you flush, his eyes tracing every part of you.

“No problem, Darlin'.” He leans down so he was right next to your ear, his voice lowering as he spoke.

“You’re just a little too small, huh?” He teases. You playfully smack his arm and roll your eyes at his teasing words, blushing slightly.

“It’s not my fault I’m not freakishly tall like you,” you tease back.

“I think it’s cute,” he smirks as he leans even closer, his body pressed right against yours, your faces only inches apart. “Perfect jus’ the way ya are, Princess'.”

You feel your face getting even redder at his compliments. Your breath gets caught in your chest as he leans impossibly closer, embarrassed knowing he can probably hear your heart hammering against your ribcage.

“Thanks, Logan.” You say averting your eyes and turning your back to him, trying to focus on what you were doing before.

You hear him chuckle softly behind you at your embarrassment. He pushes off the counter to lean back against the island a few steps away from you. You take in a shuddering breath now that he was no longer pressed up against you, trying to focus on the sandwich-in-progress on the counter in front of you. You glance back to where he’s leaning against the counter. He watches you carefully as you make your sandwich, his eyes never leaving you. He shifts his weight against the counter with his arms crossed, his muscles flexing slightly as he moves. Your eyes involuntarily widen at the sight of his arms bulging. You quickly turn back around, trying to force down the thoughts running through your mind at the sight.

Your hands shake a bit with nervousness as you try to steady your thoughts. The idea of him pressed up against you again flashes through your head and you gasp lightly. The knife in your hand clatters to the floor.

“Shit!” You yelp. You bend down to pick up the knife, still trying to steady your breathing. He immediately looks down as the knife drops to the floor, his gaze trained on you as you bent over to pick it up. He instantly tenses, his face becoming flushed almost instantly at the sight in front of him. He steps up closer behind you, his body almost completely pressed up against yours again. His voice is low as he speaks.

“Careful, hon. Don’t wanna hurt yourself.” You jump slightly at the sound of his deep voice, realizing just how close to you he was again. You straighten back up and toss the knife into the sink, giving up on making your sandwich.

“Im okay!”

He was still standing right behind you, his body pressed right up against yours. he leans down towards your ear and speaks in a low, gruff voice,

“Yer makin' me think naughty thoughts with you bendin’ over like that, Darlin’.” You suck in a breath at his words. His intoxicating scent surrounds you and you feel the stubble on his chin run against the sensitive skin of your neck

“O-oh.” You stutter, “what kind of naughty thoughts?” He smirks as you stutter at his words, his hand slowly running up the side of your hip. His hot breath ghosts across the skin of your neck and shoulder, giving you chills.

“Oh, just the things I want to do to you, Darlin'...” You whimper at his grip on your hips and his breath against your neck, leaving you breathless and wanting him. You feel his hard bulge press against your ass and moan softly at the contact

“Logan, I--“ you pant, “didn’t think you liked me like that.” He chuckles at your reaction and places a gentle kiss on the underside of your jaw, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he presses his body even tighter against yours. He hums softly,

“I've been wantin' ya for a while now, Darlin'. You’ve been drivin' me crazy since I first met ya,”

You sigh as he kisses your jaw and neck, moaning as you feel his sculpted chest and abs against your back and his bulge pressing into your ass.

“Fuck Logan- I want you,” You say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

Hearing you moan like that sends a shiver down his spine. He growls softly and pushes his hips against you a bit, his body yearning for you.

“Mm, is that so, princess? Sounds like someone's getting excited...” He trails off as he continues his kisses down your jawline and your neck, the stubble of his chin scratching deliciously across your sensitive skin.

You turn around in his grasp and wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“You came onto me Lo… don’t blame me for getting all hot and bothered at you pressing up against me like that” He chuckles at your comment, his own arms wrapping around your waist and holding you tightly against him. He hums at the feel of your fingers in his hair and tilts his head back slightly.

“Can ya blame me for wanting you? You're so damn sexy like this...” His mouth goes back to your neck, slowly leaving a trail of kisses and occasionally a few hickies down your throat. You throw your head back and tug at the locks of his hair between your fingers. You groan as you feel his hands slip up under your shirt and squeeze your hips.

“F-fuck-“ you sigh. Hearing you moan and sigh at his touch sends waves of heat through him and he groans slightly. He continues to kiss and bite your neck, his hands moving up and downyour sides under your shirt, the calloused skin of his hands rough against your softer skin.

“Such a sweet little thing... I wonder how long you'll last...”

You whimper from his words and buck your hips to meet his. You place a hand under his chin to tilt him back towards your face, leaning in and slotting your lips against his. You gasp as you feel him slide his hands down your back to your ass and feel him squeeze. He slides them down further and grasps the back of your thighs firmly, lifting you up with ease so he can set you on the counter.

He groans against your lips as he feels you grind your hips against his. He eagerly returns the kiss, his lips moving in perfect sync with yours. Once he lifts you up onto the counter he immediately steps between your legs, parting them. His hands once again on your hips, holding you.

“Mmm,” he moans, “Darlin' you're gettin' me all worked up here...”

“Logan,” you whimper, head tilting back, hands still gripping his hair. You feel his bulge press against your clothed core. “Oh, there—"

His voice deep and gravelly in your ear, “Yeah, baby? Like this?”

He rolls his hips against you gently, his breath getting heavier in your ear. Your eyes roll back into your head in pleasure at the feeling of him rutting against you. You wrap your legs around his waist to pull him impossibly closer.

“Holy shit—”

His breath hitches slightly at the sound of your soft moans. He grunts as he’s pulled closer, his face burying in the crook of your neck.

“S-so damn needy... Sound so pretty for me, doll.”

You’re a moaning, whimpering mess as he thrusts against you, the feeling of his body engulfing you, driving you close to the edge. He continues to grind against you, nearly losing his mind with you being so needy against him. The thin material of your shorts leaves nothing to the imagination as the friction from the rough denim against your clit sends sparks of pleasure straight to your core.

“Logan,” you gasp. “So good—"

“Don't worry, Darlin'... “ He breathes back, “I've got you”

His hands start to slide up under your shirt, tracing his hands over your stomach and up towards your chest, kneading the soft skin with his large palms. You moan loudly against his shoulder, biting down to try to muffle the noises escaping you. You grip his shoulders with all your strength as your legs start to shake against him. His hands pinch and pull at your nipples and you throw your head back and a throaty groan escapes your lips at the euphoric sensation

“Logan—shit!” you whimper, “Don’t stop—” You say as he starts to slow his movements, like he was going to pull away. A wicked grin spreads across his face as he comes to a realization.

“Is this gonna get you baby? You’re a mess already and I’ve barely touched you.”

You blush at his words, his thrusts picking up speed again. The feeling of his clothed tip nudging your clit brings you closer and closer to your release. You clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds of your climax approaching. Tears well in the waterline of your eyes from the overwhelming feeling of him pleasuring you.

“Look at me doll,” he demands. You snap your head up to look at him, surely with a fucked-out expression on your face. “Look so pretty f’me darlin’. Look at you crying from my cock, feels too good, huh?”

Your eyes roll back and you whimper at his words, “God—Yes, Lo. Getting s-so close—"

He returns his lips to your neck to press wet, hot kisses over the skin again, trailing up your jawline to nip at your earlobe.

“That’s it, baby. C’mon” he encourages you as you buck your hips to meet his thrusts, chasing your rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Lo—” You whine, “Gonna come-! Don’t stop d-don’t stop, please” you whine tearfully, gripping his shoulders and digging your nails in to ground yourself.

He groans into the crook of your neck, loving the painful pleasure of your nails biting into his skin. He starts to come undone from your begging, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you as close as he could, guiding your hips to meet his quick thrusts.

“Yeah, Darlin'... Need you to come for me. Be a good girl and let go”

He continues marking up your neck for the world to see, inhaling your sweet scent that he can’t seem to get enough of. His breathing becoming heavier and more uneven as his need for you increases.

“Logan! Feels so fucking good- oh god I’m so close—"

Hearing the sounds of you falling apart in his arms pushes him over the edge, his heaving breaths uneven and his muscles tensing from the feeling of you coming undone against him.

“Mmm, yes, Darlin'... Let go baby... Come for me, princess” he moans and licks a stripe up the shell of your ear. His deliciously large hands groping your chest and pinching your stiff peaks.

The feeling of his hands on you, all over you, send you over the edge. Your orgasm lighting you up and splitting you open from top to bottom. Your eyesight goes slightly blurry from the intensity of your release. You grip his hair and pull hard to ground yourself. You pull him towards you and crash your lips to his in a heated kiss. You could feel his thrusts become faster and shorter, knowing he was close

“Fuck princess... you're drivin' me crazy... gonna make me come—" His body trembles and his hips start to lose rhythm.

“Logan—” you pant against his ear, “Want you to come for me- please baby- need to feel you.” You press your lips to his jaw and kiss down the column of his throat, winding one of your hands in his hair to tug at it. You pull away for a second to whisper against him again

“I know you’re close Lo,” you nip at his lower lip and he whines into your mouth. “Wanna feel you. C’mon baby… let go for me Logan.”

He nearly loses it when he hears your throaty voice in his ear again, his name sounding like a prayer from your lips. He could only focus on your voice and your breath against his skin as you spoke, his control slipping more with every word. He could feel the pressure building and building almost to the breaking point, his body quivering with need and his hands gripping your hips with a bruising force.

“F-fuck Logan… so fucking good baby. Need you to come. Get it lo, come for me”

He groans loudly against your skin, barely able to think or speak as his climax rapidly approaches, all he could say was your name.

“Fuck—oh, fuck—I’m coming doll—shit!”

With one more desperate moan against your skin and a final roll of his hips against you, he completely unravels, his mind lost in a haze of lust from you. He groans your name in a low, gruff voice as he rides out his orgasm.

“So good baby… so fucking good for me Lo,” You scratch your nails against his scalp lightly to ground him, his clothed cock still throbbing against your core

Your words and the feel of your nails against his skin was the only thing he could focus on as he tried to regain his breathing and composure.

“Ah... mmm... Darlin'... You'll be the death of me...” He pants against your neck, pressing light kisses on your shoulder.

“Big words comin’ from a man who can’t die” You smirk at him teasingly. He chuckles softly at your words, taking a few more deep breaths to try to calm himself down

“Heh, Darlin', you know what I mean... You drive me crazy, gonna kill me one of these days...” he breathes.You lean into the weight of his against your neck, turning your head to place a gentle kiss against his, sliding your hands up and down his shoulders soothingly.

“I sure hope not,” You tease, “I’m gonna need you to stick around for a while now that I know what you’re capable of.” He hums softly as your hands slide across his shoulders gently gripping your hips with his hands, fingers tracing small patterns on your skin.

”Mmm, don’t you worry, Darlin'. I ain’t goin’ anywhere. You’re stuck with me now.”

“Good.” You sigh against his hair, “Let’s go get cleaned up honey.” You hop down from the counter as he releases your hips. You stumble slightly, legs shaky from the aftermath of your intense orgasm, and you wrap a hand around his bicep for stability.

He chuckles at your lack of balance and shaky legs, a sense of pride and satisfaction surging through his chest. He wraps his arms around you and steadies you against him.

“Easy there, princess. Looks like I did a number on ya, huh?” He gives you a cocky smirk as he holds you close against his chest. You look up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Is that all you got, Howlett?” Before he can react, you sprint out of the kitchen towards the stairs. He was caught off guard at first, his eyes widening in surprise as he watches you flee from him. He takes a moment to react, then smiles and lets out a huff in response. He could hear you laughing and the grin on his face only grew.

“Darlin'... you're playin’ a dangerous game with me right now,” He calls after you. You started giggling madly as you hear his heavy footsteps start behind you. He lets out a low chuckle as he chases after you up the stairs, slowly gaining on you as his legs were much longer than yours. You giggle and squeal as you feel his strong, muscular arms wrap around you, lifting you from the ground.

“Logan!” You shriek, as he lifts you higher to put one arm around your back and the other behind your legs, carrying you bridal style, holding you close against his solid chest.

“Heh, I gotcha now darlin’.” He ducks down to whisper huskily in your ear.

And have you he did.

[cybernaght]

The fandom echo chamber: fanon, microanalysis and conspiracy brain 

As someone who has been in fandom spaces, on and off, for 20 years, I find some fascinating trends popping up in the last decade that I thought to be fandom-specific but clearly aren’t. So, I would like to do a little examination of where those things come from, how they are engaged with, and what it says about the way we consume media. This is a think piece, of sorts, with my brain being the main source. As such, we will spend some time down the memory lane of a fandom-focused millennial.

This is largely brought about by Good Omens. But it’s also not really about Good Omens at all.

Part one. Fanon.

The way we see characters in any story is always skewed by our very selves. This is a neutral statement, and it does not have a value judgement. It’s simply unavoidable. We recognise aspects of them, love aspects of them, and choose aspects of them to highlight based entirely on our own vision of the universe. 

Recognition comes into this. There is a reason so many protagonists of romance novels have a “blank slate” problem. Even when they do not, we love characters who are like us or versions of us that we would like to be. And when we say “we”, I also mean, “me”. 

(I remember very clearly this realisation hit me after a whole season of Doctor Who with writing which I hated utterly when I questioned why I still clung so incredibly hard to Clara Oswald as my favourite companion. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Oh. Well. That would do it, wouldn’t it?)

Then, there is projection, and, again, this is a neutral statement. Projection exists, and it is completely normal and, dare I say it, valid way of engaging with — well, anything. Is the character queer? Trans? Neurodivergent? Are they in love? Do they like chocolate? Are they a cat person? Well, yes, if this is what the text says, but if the text does not say anything… You tell me. Please, do tell me. Because, in that moment of projection, they are yours. 

And then, there is fandom osmosis, and that is the most fascinating one of them all, the one that is not very easy to note while you are inside the echo chamber. It’s the way we collectively, consciously or not, make decisions on who or what the characters are, what their relationships are, and what happens to them.  

(Back when I was writing egregiously long Guardian recaps on this blog I actually asked if Shen Wei’s power being learning actually was stated anywhere in the canon of the show. Because I had no idea. I have read and reread dozen of fanfics where that is the case, and at some point through enough repetition, it became reality.)

We are all kind of making our own reality here, aren’t we? 

Back when things were happening in a much less centralised manner - in closed livejournal groups, and forums of all shapes and sizes - I don’t remember there being quite as much universally agreed upon fanon. Frankly, I don’t remember much of universally agreed upon anything. But now, everything is in one place: we have this, and we have AO3, and it’s wonderful, it really is so much easier to navigate, but it’s also one gigantic reality-shifting echo chamber, with blogs, reblogs, trends, and rituals. 

Accessibility plays its part, too. If you were, say, in Life on Mars (UK) fandom between seasons, and you wanted to post your speculation fic, you had to have had an account, and then find and gain access to one of the bigger groups (lifein1973 was my poison, but ymmv), and then, if you feel brave you may post it, but also, you may want to do so from your alt account if you wanted to keep yours separate, and then you would have to go through the whole process again. And I’m not saying that fan creations then were somehow inherently better for it than fan creations now (although Life on Mars Hiatus Era is perhaps a bad example - because some of the Speculation Fic there was breathtaking), but there is something to say about the ease of access that made the fandoms go through a big bang of sorts.

(I mean, come on, I can just come here and post this - and I am certain people will read it, and this blog is a pandemic cope baby about Chinese television for goodness sake.)

The canon transformations that happen in the fandom echo chamber truly are fascinating to witness as someone who is more or less a fandom butterfly. I get into something, float around for a bit, then get into something else and move on. I might come back eventually when the need arises, but I don’t sustain a hiatus mind-state. This means that when I float away and return, I find some very intriguing stuff.

Let’s actually look at Good Omens here. Season two aired, and I found it spectacular in its cosy and anguished way; deliberately and intelligently fanfic-y in its plot building; simple but subversive, and so very tender. (I will have to circle back to this eventually, because, truly, I love how deliberately it takes the tropes and shatters them - it’s glorious). And, to me - a person who read the book, watched the first season, hung around AO3 for a few weeks and moved on - absolutely on-point in terms of characterisation. 

So imagine my surprise when the fandom disagreed so vehemently that there are actual multi-tiered theories on how characters were not in possession of their senses. Nothing there, in my mind, ever contradicted any of the stated text, as it stood. This remained a strange little mystery until I did what I always do when I flutter close to an ongoing fandom.

I loaded AO3 and sorted the existing fic by popularity. And there it was, all there: the actual earth-shattering mutual devotion of the angel and the demon; willingness to Fall; openness and long heart-aching confession speeches. There was all of the fanon surrounding Aziraphale and Crowley, which, to me, read as out of character, and to one for whom they became the reality over the last four years, read as truth. 

Again, only neutral statements here. This is not a bad thing, and neither this is a good thing, this is just something that happens, after a while, especially when there are years for the fandom-born ideas to bounce around and stew. I can’t help but think that so much of what we see as real in spaces such as this one is a chimaera of the actual source and all the collective fan additions which had time and space to grow, change, develop, and inspire, reverberating over and over again, until the echoes fill the entirety of the space. 

Eventually, this chimaera becomes a reality. 

Part two. Microanalysis 

Here are my two suppositions on the matter:

1. Some writers really love breadcrumb storytelling. 

Russel T Davies, for instance, on his run of Doctor Who (and, if you are reading it much later - I do mean the original one), loved that technique for his seasonal arcs. What is a Bad Wolf? Who is Harold Saxon? Well, you can watch very very carefully, make a theory, and see it proven right or wrong by the end of the season. 

Naturally, mystery box writers are all about breadcrumb storytelling: your Losts and your Westworlds are all about giving you snippets to get your brain firing, almost challenging you to figure things out just ahead of the reveal. 

2. We, as humans, love breadcrumbs.

And why wouldn’t we? Breadcrumbs are delicious. They are, however, a seasoning, or a coating. They are not the meal. 

Too much metaphor?

Let’s unpack it and start from the beginning.

Pattern recognition colours every aspect of our lives, and it colours the way we view art to a great extent. I think we truly underestimate how much it’s influenced by our lived experiences.

If you are, broadly speaking, living somewhere in Western/North-Western Europe in the 14th century, and you see a painting in which there is a very very large figure surrounded by some smaller figures and holding really tiny figures, you may know absolutely nothing about who those figures are, but you know that the big figure is the Important One, and the small ones are Less Important Ones, and the tiny ones are In Their Care. You know where your reverence would lie, looking at this picture. And, I imagine, as someone living in the 14th century, you may be inspired to a sense of awe looking at this composition, because in the world you live in, this is how art works. 

If you, on the other hand, watch a piece of recorded media and see the eyes of two characters meet as the violins swell, you know what you are being told at that moment. You don’t have to have a film degree to feel a sort of way when you see a green-tinged pallet used, when cross-cuts use juxtaposing images, or notice where your focus is pulled in any given shot. This stuff - this recognition of patterns - has been trained into us by the simple fact that we live in this time, on this planet, and we have been doing so long enough to have engaged recorded media for a period of time. 

As humans, we notice things. Our brains flare up when they see something they recognise, and then we seek to find other similar details and form a bigger picture. This often happens unconsciously, but sometimes it does not. Sometimes we do it on purpose: finding breadcrumbs in stories is a little bit like solving a mystery. It allows us to stretch that brain muscle that puts two and two together. It makes us feel clever. 

So yes, we love breadcrumbs, and, frankly, quite a lot of storytelling takes advantage of this. It’s very useful for foreshadowing, creating thematic coherence, or introducing narrative parallels and complexity. It’s useful for nudging the viewer into one or the other emotional direction, or to cue them into what will happen in the next moment, or what exactly is the one important detail they should pay attention to.

Because this is something media does intentionally, and something we pick up both consciously and not, it is very hard to know when to stop. We don't really ever know when all of the breadcrumbs have been collected. It becomes very easy to get carried away. There is a very specific kind of pleasure in digging into content frame by frame, soundbite by soundbite, chasing that pleasure of finding. 

But it is almost never breadcrumbs all the way down. They are techniques to help us focus on the main event: the story. I truly believe those who make media want it to reach the widest possible audience, and that includes all of us who like to watch every single thing ever created with our Media Analysis Goggles on and those who are just here to enjoy the twists and turns of the story at the pace offered to them. And I think, sometimes in our chase to collect and understand every little clue we forget that media is not made to just cater for us.

One can call it missing a forest for the trees. But I would hate to mix my metaphors, so let’s call it missing a schnitzel for the breadcrumbs. 

Part three. The Conspiracy Brain. 

If you are there with me, in the midst of the excited frenzy, chasing after all those delicious breadcrumbs, then patterns can grow, merge together, and become all-encompassing theories. Let’s call them conspiracy theories, even though this is not what they truly are.

So, why do we believe in conspiracy theories?

One, Because We Have Been Lied To. 

All conspiracies start with distrust.

If you are in fandom spaces - especially if you are in fandom spaces which revolve around a queer fictional couple - especially-especially if you have been in such spaces for a period of time, you have most certainly been lied to at one point or another. 

We don’t even have to talk about Sherlock - and let’s not do that - but do you remember Merlin? Because I remember Merlin. Specifically, I remember the publicity surrounding the first season, with its weaponised usage of “bromance” and assertions that this whole thing is a love story of sorts, and then the daunting realisation that this was all a stunt, deliberately orchestrated to gather viewership. 

And, because we were lied to in such a deliberate manner for such an extensive period of time, I genuinely believe that it forever altered our pattern recognition habits, because what was this if not encouragement to read into things? Now we are trained to read between the lines or see little cries for help where they might not be. Because we were told, over and over again, that we should.

(Yes, I think we are all existing in these spaces coloured by the trauma of queer-bating. I am, however, looking forward to a world where I can unlearn all of that.)

Two, Cognitive Dissonance.

The chain reaction works a bit like this: the world is wrong - it can’t possibly be wrong by coincidence - this must be on purpose - someone is responsible for it.

Being Lied To is a preamble, but cognitive dissonance is where it all originates. In so many cross-fandom theories I have noticed a four-step process:

A) this is not good

B) this author could not have made a mistake 

C) this must be done on purpose

D) here is why 

(Funny thing is, I have been on the receiving end of the small conspiracy spiral, and it is a very interesting experience. Not relevant to this conversation is the fact that a lot of my job revolves around storytelling. What is relevant is that my hobbies also revolve around storytelling. And one of them is DnD. Now, imagine my genuine shock when one of the players I am currently writing a campaign for noticed a small detail that did not make a logical sense within the complexity of the world, and latched on to it as something clearly indicating some kind of a secret subplot. Their thinking process also went a bit like this: this detail is not a good piece of writing — this DM knows how to tell stories well — this is obviously there on purpose. It was not there on purpose. I created a clumsy shorthand. I erred, in that pesky manner humans tend to. And, seeing this entire thought process recited to me directly in the moment, I felt somewhere between flattered and mortified.)

This whole line of thinking, I think, exists on a knife’s edge between veneration and brutal criticism, relentlessly dissecting everything “wrong”, with a reverent “but this is deliberate” attached to it like a vice, because it is preferable to a simple conclusion that the author let you down, in one way or another. 

Three, Intentionality 

I believe that there is no right or wrong way of engaging with stories, regardless of their medium, and assuming no one gets hurt in the process. While in a strictly academic way, there is a “correct” way of reading (and reading into) media, we here are largely not academics but consumers; consumption is subjective.

However, this all changes when intentionality is ascribed. 

The one I find particularly fascinating is the intentionality of “making it bad on purpose” because, as open-minded as I intend to always be, this just does not happen.

It certainly does not happen in long-form media. Even in the bread-crumb mystery box-type long-form media. 

When television programs underdeliver, they also underperform, and then they get cancelled.

If all the elements of Westworld Season 4 that did not sit together in a completely satisfactory way were written deliberately as some sort of deconstruction for the final season to explore, then it failed because that final season will now never come.

(There will likely never be a Secret Fourth Episode.)

And look, I am not here to refute your theories. Creativity is fun, and theorising is fantastic. 

But, perhaps, when the line of thought ventures into the “bad on purpose” territory, it could be recognised for what it is: disappointment and optimism, attempting to coexist in a single space. And I relate to that, I do, and I am sorry that there is even a need for this line of thinking. It’s always so incredibly disappointing that a creator you believed to be devoid of flaws makes something that does not hit in the way you hoped it would. It’s pretty heartbreaking. 

Unfortunately, people make mistakes. We are all fallible that way. 

Four, Wildfire.

Then, when the crumbs are found, a theory is crafted, and intentionality is ascribed, all that needs to happen is for it to catch on. And hey, what better place for it than this massive hollow funnel that we exist in, where thoughts, ideas and interpretations reverberate so much they become inextricable from the source material in collective consciousness. 

Conspiracy theories create alternate realities, very much like we all do here. 

So where are we now?

I am not here to tell you what is right and what is wrong; what is true, and what is not. We are all entitled to engage with anything we wish, in whichever way we wish to do it. This is not it, at all. 

All I am saying is… listen.

Do you hear that echo? 

I do. 

[the-peak-tmnt]

Hey The Neon Void readers, quick update from the author's sister!

(art commission by @kaysdenofchaos)

Hi readers of The Neon Void fanfic. This is the author’s older sister. She’s been getting a lot of fan art and asks lately. She’s sent me screenshots of a few unanswered ones looking for advice on how to respond.

While all the love and support of TNV is genuinely appreciated, my sister @sugarpasteltmnt is not equipped to respond to a small handful of these asks/comments that are, quite frankly, inappropriate.

Sugarpastels is not a therapist, and she’s certainly not an internet stranger’s therapist.

She’s an adult with an extremely demanding and stressful job for a very large client. Some of you have already experienced and enjoyed her work IRL without knowing it. Her company is close to finishing another project that will bring a lot of joy to hundreds of thousands of people every year, but working on a project of that scale is extremely stressful.

She is writing this fanfic for fun. TNV is a way for her to decompress and put her creative energy towards something other than work.

What’s not fun is coming home to asks/comments from readers who are projecting their own struggles/mental health onto TNV, and even Sugarpastels herself, and demanding some sort of attention from her over it.

Let’s be real: it’s fun to watch our blorbos suffer! So much of fandom is just us putting our favorite characters in Situations because it’s fun. Simple as that. But I think another reason TNV has resonated so strongly with readers is because of the way Sugarpastels writes the internal struggles of these characters.

We are both aware that TNV deals with mental health topics. Since the early days of “modern” fandom, fanfiction has been a way for people to explore complicated, difficult and sometimes even taboo subjects. There’s no shortage of complex feelings being explored in TNV, which is why we’re all having so much fun reading it.

But that’s all it is; an exploration. Sugarpastels is not a mental health expert. I’ve read a handful of books on PTSD and mindfulness for research while writing my own fanfic, and I would never consider myself prepared to help someone else.

It’s okay if you relate to things from TNV. I know I do! Again, fanfic has always been a way to read about things rarely dealt with (or handled poorly) in published fiction/tv shows/movies. I will always argue one of the greatest things about fanfiction and other fanworks is being able to see ourselves and our own struggles through our favorite fictional characters.

But Sugarpastels is not a fictional character. She’s a real person. Most importantly (to me at least) she’s my little sister, and this big sister cannot handle watching some of her readers expect more of her than is appropriate.

So I’m asking you to please be mindful of what you ask/say to not just her, but literally everyone on the internet. Unless you’re chatting with someone regularly, they do not know you. Whether it’s friends, family, teachers, coaches, etc, there are people in your life who know you personally, and are therefore better equipped to help you than a stranger on the internet.

Sugarpastels is so full of empathy that it’s hard to not feel for you when you send things like this. But it just isn’t fair to put that kind of unnecessary pressure on someone who is, at the end of the day, just trying to have some fun writing about ninja turtles bein’ sad.

(That being said, PLEASE DON’T BE SCARED TO SEND HER ASKS AND FAN ART!!! They make her day every single time and are seriously so, so appreciated. She’s texting me about it constantly how much she loves all of TNV’s readers. This whole post is really directed at an extremely small percentage of her readers, but there have been enough I felt something needed to be said.)

[yezznn]

Spending his break together — a Soobin drabble<3

pairings: Soobin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, comfort.

warnings: none! But pls let txt rest (I’m talking to you, HYBE employee reading fanfics for fan service purposes)

check out my masterlist | remember this is fictional!

You could see it in his eyes during video calls—the toll of constant comebacks and rehearsals. His dedication was unwavering, but his health was starting to suffer. His fans were literally begging on every social media for the company to give his group a break, but Soobin still came on camera with his beautiful dimpled smile and tried to reassure everyone that they were just fine. It didn’t take long to become more evident, though, to the point it was starting to worry you, too. Being an idol’s partner wasn’t fun all the time, you’d spent more time without him than with him, and you feared that asking him to take it easy would come out as selfishness.

But when his company finally granted him a long-term break, it was like a breath of fresh air. You received his call while at work, and the relief in his voice was palpable. "Guess who's coming home for Christmas?" he said, and your heart leaped with joy.

The moment you saw him at the airport, a mix of emotions washed over you. He looked tired but happy, and the tight hug you share says more than words ever could. "I've missed you so much," he whispered into your hair, and even with his enormous height he looked like a vulnerable child, just glad to be back.

With Soobin home, your days are filled with cozy nights in. You’d cook his favorite meals, catching up on all the moments you missed. He helps you decorate the Christmas tree, laughing as he tries to untangle the fairy lights. You make it a point to take care of him, ensuring he gets plenty of rest. You have lazy mornings with breakfast in bed, and some late night walks to play in the snow— even when the cold becomes unbearable.

Knowing how much Soobin values quality time, you plan a day of relaxation. You both decide to stay in the day of his birthday, lounging in comfortable clothes and catching up on all the shows and movies he's missed during his busy schedule.

Throughout the day, you surprise him with little gifts. A cozy sweater, a book he's been wanting to read, and a new pair of headphones. Each gift is wrapped with love, and his eyes light up with every unwrapping. "You always know exactly what I need," he says, giving you a warm hug. In the afternoon, you suggest baking a cake together. Soobin's laughter fills the kitchen as you both fumble with the ingredients, making a mess but enjoying every moment.

As the day turned into night, you led Soobin to a surprise party you'd secretly arranged with his friends and family. The moment he steps into the backyard, he's greeted with a chorus of "Happy Birthday!" And you could swear you’ve never seen him happier before. Back at home, as you both got ready for bed, Soobin wrapped his arms around you and murmured, "This has been the best birthday ever. Thank you for everything."

As the year comes to an end, you spend New Year's Eve together, reflecting on the past year and all you've been through. At midnight, he pulls you close, kissing you softly and promising that the coming year will be even better.

This time together strengthens your bond like never before. Soobin appreciates your support, and you cherish every moment spent with him. As his break comes to an end, you both know that no matter how busy life gets, your love is the constant that keeps you both going.

a/n: in honor of Soobin’s update 💗 I miss him so so so much but I’m so happy to know he’s resting and sharing with his family. I’m just hoping they’ll get the rest they deserve and come back healthier and more energized! This was really rushed so I’m sorry if it’s kind of bad, just felt like writing a something for Soob.

[themostlesbianever]

College AU Sevika x reader chapter 2

A/n: I have to warn you guys this chapter feels very bland and meh to me, I have many ideas but those only work when Sevika is actually your friend so I didn't really know what to do

I've also decided that theyre at a college in seattle for info dumping reasons lol (im not basing it on a spesific college that is in seattle)

Throughout this fanfic you'll realise im writing this fic partly just to info dump. I'm gonna work a lot of my interests into this fic trust🙏

more parts

(also pls ignore any typos or forgotten capital letters🙏)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wipe away a few stray tears with your fingers and suck in a deep breath, closing your eyes, then breathing out slowly. You start making your way back to the dorm building, you had promised to meet up with your best friend Ekko. You’ve been friends for ages and did basically everything together. Including going to the same school.

You make your way back to your dorm, giving the door a knock before entering the room. Sevika is sitting on her bed mindlessly scrolling through her phone, she looks up at you. “Sup” she says, tilting her chin upwards slightly in greeting. “Hi, I’m just coming to get my phone” you pause for a second. “I’m going to meet up with a friend. He’s going to show me his room, and after that he wants to see ours, if that's okay with you”. 

“Yeah that's fine” she answers and you grab your phone. “alright, see you in a bit then”. You leave the room and quickly check your messages. Ekko had sent you one earlier telling you which room he was in and you read it again twice to make sure you don't go knocking on the wrong door. You then make your way over to the elevator.

The building was divided in gendered floors, the first two for men and the second two for women. You step into the elevator and press the button for the second floor.

A soft ding sounds and the elevator doors slowly open, revealing your friend to you. He’s dressed in some simple black jeans that are far too big for him, they’re being held up by a white shoelace. He’s also wearing a simple white tank top with a leather jacket thrown over it, and black converse.

“Hey there stranger” he greets you with a big smile. He throws his arms out and embraces you, you encircle his torso just under his arms and pat his back a few times. “Hi dude, long time no see” you giggle after he lets you go. “Ha ha” he says sarcastically, you had seen eachother last week. “I know, im hilarious” you giggle and he playfully shoves you.

He leads you over to his room, when he opens the door your eyes widen a bit. “WHAT, this is bigger than my room” 

“Sucks to suck I guess” he shrugs. Now it's your turn to playfully shove him. You make your way further into the room, then you sit down on his bed. "That's sexism” you joke, Ekko chuckles at that. You continue to look around the room, taking in all of Ekko’s decor. 

He’s got a few, probably fake, plants on the windowsill. Plain white bedding sits on his bed, along with an owl shaped throw pillow, and a fluffy beige blanket. He also has various posters and photos stuck to his wall, including the same spiderman poster that hung on yours. He has various trinkets sitting on his desk. You recognise one of them to be a small stuffed owl you had given him quite a while ago. ”Dude, you still have this?” you ask him, picking the small owl up and petting it softly. “Yeah, why would I get rid of it?” he smiles at you as you put the owl back in its original spot.

Then your eyes wander over to the other side of the room, which remains undecorated. “Is your roommate just extremely boring?” you question and he tells you they haven't shown up yet. “Huh strange, I'm pretty sure everyone should be moved in already by now” you comment and he just shrugs his shoulders. “Lets see your room then” he says excitedly.

When you reach the door of your room you knock, alerting sevika that you’re here. “Come in” a muffled voice calls from inside. You push the door open and let ekko in. He looks around the room for a bit before his eyes land on your roommate.

“Ekko, this is Sevika, my roommate.” You gesture to sevika. “Sevika, this is Ekko, my best friend of like 11 years.” you announce, Sevika gets up to shake Ekko’s hand. “Dude you look extremely cool” he says, Sevika gives him a small smile. “Thanks man, you too”. 

Ekko takes another look around your room, his eyes falling on your decorated wall. “Oh my god, you have pictures of toothless”. He walks over to the wall to inspect the pictures of your beloved cat up close. Sevika shifts her gaze from ekko to you. “You named your cat after a fucking dragon?” she questions, a glint of amusement in her eyes. 

“What?” you exclaim, your voice taking on an offended tone. She lets out a small chuckle at this. “I’m not judging you” she reassures. 

Ekko makes his way over to the body length mirror you put up. “C’mere” he says and you walk up to him. "What's up?” you ask. “We need to take a picture, obviously” he says while taking his phone out of his pocket. You drape your arm over his shoulder, bringing your hand up to the back of his head and putting up two fingers. “Really, bunny ears?” he asks. You simply nod and smile. 

Ekko snaps a picture and holds his phone up so you can see it. “That's cute, can you send that to me?” you ask him, already knowing the answer. “Of course" he replies.

“Hey sevika, you want a picture with us?” Ekko asks Sevika, who has been quietly watching the interaction. “Why not?” she replies. She walks to the mirror and stands behind the both of you. “Damn you’re tall” Ekko says, eyeing sevika through the mirror. She just shrugs.

Ekko takes another photo, showing it to both of you to get approval. “Oh Sevika I should get your number” you say. “To send the photo and, like, for other stuff obviously”.

“Oh yeah sure man” she says and you hand her your phone, she puts her number in and hands it back to you. You thank her and take a quick glance at the time. “Ekko you wanna go exploring and get some lunch?” you ask

“You already know the answer” He replies and starts making his way to the door. You look over at sevika. “You wanna come with?” you ask her. “Oh no that's okay, a friend of mine lives off campus and i'm going to their place in a bit” she replies and you simply nod at her before walking out of the room behind Ekko.

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Tag list: @0eatmysoulll0-blog @misswynters @vikaswife @ladycupa0-0 @d3adbrainer @vintage-karma @gravegoer

[elodieunderglass]

So for some more details:

- I am fairly time-poor with a huge amount of commitments: Grownup Job Senior Promotion, three small kids on summer holidays/starting school, writing a novel fanfic for sick friend, peak growing/harvest season at allotment, etc. so im only offering “what I can actually deliver” at this time

- swan comic is a new idea, people like those don’t they? Not sure of how fundraising mechanism would work here but maybe taking prompts?

- not sure how essay would work but it’s probably my best/most appealing skill?

- material items in exchange for a minimum fixed amount. So offline I’m most known for material works. I’m not a BAD printmaker / craftworker and for this I would be looking at designing a sort of limited print run of greeting card style original hand printed prints. I know you guys aren’t familiar with this work from me, so this would involve a bit of trust that An Art from me would be worth at least £5 lmao. However it’s kind of nice to get something real in the mail right??

- super worried about fandom auction so this would be mostly a register of interest that I’d take to more experienced people and use as leverage to start an auction; I’m not in a great place to provide much actual legwork here. I also have huge guilt from like 2000-something where someone paid A HUNDRED AND LIKE 20 DOLLARS to charity for earthquake survivors and I DID NOT FINISH THE FIC AND I HAD to write to them, weepingly, apologising forever about it, and they were so graceful, they forgave me and wrote off my fandom auction contribution, but I had never watched the tv show they requested and was in the process of romancing dr glass and it all went SO wrong, this MIGHT heal my scars of shame from fandom auctions generally OR might make them worse. It itvery hard to write fic actually it’s my worst skill pls don’t pick this

Anyway

I will dance like a monkey and get sick kids out of Gaza. What would you like to see most?

[lorryicious]

do you perhaps have any more Loretta/Bill content I’m VERY curious about their dynamic now 👁️👁️

I HAVE. SO MUCH. CONTENT. Loretta has been an oc I have had for YEARS so I absolutely have SO much stuff on her! Shes definitely my favorite oc alongside Jack, my other gravity falls oc. The short of it is they are forced to work together out of inconvenience by the Axolotl.. The most recent development has been the change in Lorettas ability revolving her sight because I thought it would be so cool if Loretta had the same/similar kind of mutation to Bill. It didn't change much to her character, just another reason why they ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time (time police events. I seriously need to write fanfic of the whole story LMAO)

Their dynamic is SO FUN. They bicker ALL the time and usually are yapping about something. They live together, so I think they argue over the smallest things. When they first ended up needing to work together, Bill was not thrilled AT ALL. He was VERY closed off. Loretta, not knowing this creature at all, just decided to let him do his own thing. It's only after an event where Loretta protects Bill when he's at his weakest that Bill realizes Loretta is harmless and that it wouldn't hurt to try to get some enjoyment out of her company. That turns into an actual friendship, which turns into Bill finding out Loretta is like him. Through this, they open up and become closer because of their similar identities. They just ended up on different paths because of their own mutations AUGH. Bill wanted more, when in comparison Loretta was content with what her world was already like.

Loretta is a demon hunter. She takes bounties from individuals around town to get rid of weirdness. She naturally has a knack for attracting it, so the job is perfect for her. Bill helps her with her bounties; in exchange, Loretta lets Bill drain her energy so he can regain his physical form. I have a whole animatic on my tiktok that shows how the possession works-

They are silly. They fight over what to watch on the tv, they karaoke and drink together, it takes AGES for Bill to actually open up to Loretta, Whenever they decide to share the bed (even though Bill doesn't sleep) he kicks off Lorreta off of it anyway just to frustrate her, they do makeup together, They drive up to one of the hills in gravity falls via Loretta's motorcycle and watch the sunset together. Love them. I have SO many thoughts on their dynamic, but they are there for each other, and despite all their issues, they love each other. They NEVER say it to each other because Bill is deathly scared of that word.

They are an oc x canon ship so they are together as partners TECHNICALLY. Still, I also think they are so messed up via the canon story that an ACTUAL domestic relationship dynamic just doesn't work for the two. Plus, Bill needs help understanding labels and Loretta doesn't need them. Plus there's the Jack situation...Which is a WHOLE OTHER RANT. JACK. AUGH. The love triangle (literally) goes insane. In my happy au they are a polycule asf.

Literally ask ANY questions about them, I might even draw something up if its a fun scenario you guys send,,, I LOVE THAT PEOPLE ARE INTERESTED IN THE OCS BECAUSE !!!! I HAVE SO MUCH CONTENT FOR THEM.

Some of this is older art but it still works <33 and I STILL LOVE IT

This one I did recently-

Great side effect for being able to see outside your plane of reality AND being intertwined to a demon, you get to relive HIS trauma TOO!! (imagine how horrifying that was when Loretta told Bill the dreams shes been having) (double note: Bill played it off like they were random when he was FREAKING OUT ON THE INSIDE)

[cjlouwho]

I think I’m still just stuck on Oliver’s will they / won’t they wanting the audience to long for the relationship quote. As well as Tim quote about Buck figuring out who he is and who he wants. And Oliver’s quote about fighting to be together. I am still hopeful of the potential direction they can take this in. I do think this coming episode will be the make or break in a way. If we see villainizing Tommy (which I don’t think they will based on the way both Tim and Oliver sympathized his decision) then I think its over but if we see Chim and Maddie helping Buck to understand Tommy’s actions then I think there’s still a chance. Also to me having Chim and Maddie talk to him is very interesting. They were a couple that fought to be together, broke up and then found their way back to each other. Having them in the scenes with Buck post break up helps me to feel hopeful about the direction they’re going in tbh. I don’t think it will be resolved at all by the end of 8a. But I do think 08.08 may leave off with Buck deciding whether or not he wants to reach out.

Honestly, all the interviews are bullshit. That’s where I am now lol the actors never know wtf is going on. I think they’ve been told so many things and, like, 2 out of 20 have actually turned into something. There was a load of nothing with madney, henren, and mara. Tim had stated that Eddie would be a little left out while Buck and Tommy’s relationship grew and we got more scenes of Eddie with them than without. Buck struggled for like 10 seconds with whether or not he meant to hurt Gerrard, also nothing came from Gerrard taking him under his wing. The Ortiz storyline was meaningless, and Gerrard’s entire arc turned him into a joke. There was no “hurdle” in Buck and Tommy’s relationship, it was a fucking boulder that came through and splintered it into a million pieces.

Ryan even stated that Tim could change the script in an instant, so the actors have no idea what’s happening at any given time and neither does Tim apparently. I’m pretty sure he goes to ao3, randomly selects a fanfic with his eyes closed, then writes his scripts based off of said fic.

I know some people are being positive and saying Maddie and Chimney will help him see Tommy’s perspective, but I have absolutely no faith in the show or its writing whatsoever. I would not be surprised if we got a, “eh, Tommy’s always been distant. Always a runner and tough to crack. You dodged a bullet,” from Chimney. Not because I believe it’s actually something he’d say, but because the writing is so shit that they’d have him say it to further push Tommy out of the narrative. Then, idk, maybe Buck can go on his little fuck tour 🤷🏻‍♀️

[whereforarthur]

Ménage à trois

A/N: Getting back into writing due to my recent obsession with the British YouTube scene, especially ArthurTv and ItalianBach. There is a lack of ItalianBach imagines and I figured I’d try and fill that void.

Pairing: ItalianBach x Gf!reader x ArthurTv

Summary: As ItalianBach’s girlfriend you are asked to gather fanfics of the boys to discuss on the podcast, not knowing what could possibly happen…

Word Count: 6.4K

Rating: Mature 

Category: Smut with Fluff at the end

Content Warnings: threesome, blowjob, pussy-eating, vaginal penetration, kinda overstim, praise, degrading, reader on the pill, unprotected sex, cum in pussy, cum on pussy, lil bit of choking, kinda forceful at times

italicized text is fan fictions y/n is reading

******

After 2 years of being the girlfriend to ItalianBach, you have grown to admire his uprising and the more and more fans that began to accumulate. Of course, you were proud of your boyfriend's success, but along with it came hundreds of thirsting fans. The number of thirst traps and edits that would now pop up on your FYP was insane. You couldn’t blame them though, to be fair you were dating a Greek god of a man.

So you were quite surprised when Isaac asked you to gather some imagines and fanfics to discuss on the next episode of the Bach and Arthur Podcast.

“Are you sure you want to torture yourselves,” a blush began to rise on your cheeks as you asked Isaac, “Some of those imagines can get pretty naughty.” Having spent your fair time on Tumblr in the past you knew of the kind of filth that people could write up.

Isaac laughed at the blush that rose on your cheeks when you asked him. “Of course, love I’m sure it can’t be that bad and I think it would be great laughs for the pod.” He replied.

You couldn't help but feel a peculiar mix of excitement and trepidation as you thought about the idea of finding hot fanfics about your boyfriend and best mate.

But you hadn't expected to find a treasure trove of fanfics and smut featuring ArthurTv, the charismatic co-host of his show. The explicit scenes had taken you by surprise, You felt a guilty thrill as you realized that the raw passion in the stories had your pulse racing.

*****

Her eyes were transfixed on the words that danced before her, a particular imagine that had caught her attention. It was of Arthur, the charismatic yet enigmatic star of the screen, a man whose allure was as vast as the universe itself.

The image painted a picture of Arthur in a state of sublime surrender, his powerful form bent to the will of unseen hands.

"Arthur looked so gone with each bounce, his chest rising and falling so dramatically with each breath, his eyes half lidded and completely dumbified, the way his lips twitched slightly as though he needed to say something but couldn't between all his high whimpers and moans which had you racing towards your climax."

Her hand wandered down to her thigh, tracing the contours of her skin as she delved deeper into the narrative. The fabric of her shorts grew damp as her arousal grew in response to the erotic tale. Each word she read was a caress, a whispered promise of the intensity that awaited her if she dared to let go.

But she knew she had to move on. There was a podcast to prepare for, after all. With a shaky exhale, she closed the tab and opened the next link. The effort to shake off the excitement was Herculean, but she managed, focusing instead on the task at hand. The next fanfic began innocently enough, a gentle romance blossoming between Arthur and another character. She forced her breathing to even out, her racing heart to slow, as she willed her thoughts back to the podcast. The words on the screen swam in front of her eyes, the aftershocks of the previous story lingering in the air like a seductive perfume.

This new tale took a surprising turn, however, as Arthur's love for lingerie began to emerge.

"A side that made him seem like a menace, almost like he was a horny teenage boy who had been left alone with his female celebrity crush, becoming touchy and needy."

Her cheeks flushed as she read about his tender exploration of his partner's body, his eyes lighting up with wonder as he revealed the secrets hidden beneath layers of fabric. It was a stark contrast to the raw, unbridled passion of the first story, and she found herself drawn to this more intimate side of Arthur. Her own hands grew curious, wandering up to her chest, feeling the soft fabric of her shirt. She closed her eyes, picturing Arthur's hands, so adept at uncovering secrets, working their magic on her.

You tried to convince yourself it was just the novelty, the thrill of the forbidden. But as you scrolled through page after page of steamy content, you couldn't help but feel a wetness between your legs that had nothing to do with the innocent curiosity of reading fanfiction. Your mind began to wander, imagining the scenarios playing out in the stories, with you as the unseen participant. The way Arthur’s mischievous smile would curve into something more seductive when he looked at you. It was wrong, you knew, but the allure was undeniable.

It was like a switch had been flipped in your mind, and suddenly, you couldn't get enough of the idea. The thought of being the one to bring that passion to the surface, to be the one they both craved, was intoxicating.

*****

The sudden sound of the key in the lock jolted her out of her reverie. Her boyfriend, Isaac, was home. She took a deep breath, willing her pulse to slow and her cheeks to return to their normal color. She had to compose herself; she couldn't have him finding her in such a state. Quickly, she minimized the browser and closed her laptop, hoping the evidence of her arousal wasn't too obvious.

"Babe, what’s got you so frazzled?" He said as he entered the living room, his voice a pleasant mix of curiosity and confusion. But as she looked up at him, she saw a glint in his eye that suggested he knew exactly what you'd been reading. A smirk played on his lips, and your heart skipped a beat.

You looked down at your laptop, feeling a sudden jolt of excitement and nervousness.

“Find anything good?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. "Just the... stuff you asked me to look f-for the podcast," you managed to reply, your voice wavering slightly.

He sauntered closer, his eyes darkening as he leaned against the desk. "Oh, I know exactly what you've been looking at," he said, his voice dropping an octave.

Isaac’s smirk grew wider as he approached you, his eyes never leaving yours.

His eyes scanned the first imagine, a grin spreading slowly across his face as he read aloud, "Submissive ArthurTV smut." The title alone was enough to make you blush, and you found yourself eagerly waiting to hear his reaction.

As he read further, his smile turned into a puzzled frown. "These are all about Arthur?" he asked, looking through the opened tabs on your laptop. You nodded sheepishly, realizing your oversight in not mentioning the focus of the fanfics. "Well, I guess I'm not as popular as I thought," he said, trying to keep the sting out of his voice. Isaac looked at you, his expression unreadable. He took a sip of his coffee before finally speaking, "Well, I'm not surprised. Girls do seem to go crazy over his cuteness."

Having read all the imagines and smut all ready in perpetration, you couldn’t help but giggle and blush at Isaac. “Oh, you have no idea just how crazy they get over the boy.” Twiddling your thumbs as your gaze drops to the floor, nervous for Isaac to read them.

He leaned over the back of the couch, his fingers tracing the line of your neck. "You know, I've always wondered what you thought about Arthur," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Isaac’s hand rested on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against your skin in slow, deliberate circles.

You had always found Arthur attractive, but you had never allowed your thoughts to wander beyond the realm of friendship. Your relationship with Isaac had been a happy one, filled with love and laughter, and the occasional podcast recording. But here you were, with your body responding to the illicit thoughts that the fanfics had planted in your mind. The room grew warmer as you felt Isaac’s hand slide down your arm, his fingertips grazing the inside of your elbow, sending sparks through your body.

He chuckled softly, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "You know, the way the fans write about us. The... fantasies they have." His voice was a seductive purr, sending shivers down your spine.

"Fantasies, huh?" you replied, trying to keep your voice even as your heart thudded in your chest. He leaned closer, his eyes searching yours, a silent question hanging in the air. "I guess everyone has their fantasies," you added, trying to sound nonchalant, but the tremor in your voice betrayed your excitement.

He chuckled again, a sound that sent a thrill through you. "Yeah, they do," he said, his thumb now tracing lazy circles around the inside of your wrist. His eyes never left yours as he spoke, and you could see the mischief in them. "And what about you?" he pressed, his voice dropping another octave. "What do you fantasize about?"

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. You had never been one to shy away from your desires, but this was new territory, even for you. "I... I've had a fantasy," you began, the words spilling out of you before you could stop them. "A threesome, with you and Arthur."

Isaac’s eyes widened, the smirk on his face morphing into something more serious. "Really?" he said, his voice thick with surprise and a hint of excitement. "You've thought about that?"

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his. The idea had consumed you since you'd first stumbled upon the fanfics, growing from a simple curiosity to a full-blown obsession. The more you read, the more you found yourself craving the kind of passion that seemed to exist only in the minds of the writers and their devoted readers. "I can't stop thinking about it," you admitted, your voice barely a murmur.

Isaac’s hand stilled on your wrist, his eyes searching yours. For a moment, there was silence, the air in the room thick with anticipation. Then, he leaned in, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was both gentle and demanding. You melted into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. The taste of him was familiar, yet the context was alien, a heady mix that made your head spin.

As your kiss deepened, his hand slid down to your thigh, his thumb rubbing small circles that made you squirm.

You didn't know how this conversation had turned into this, but you didn't want it to stop.

"What if we made it a reality?" Isaac whispered against your lips, his breath hot and demanding. "What if we invited Arthur over tonight and made your fantasy come true?"

Your mind raced. Would Arthur really be up for that? Was he even attracted to you? The thought was exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure. You had known Arthur for only a couple of months, but the idea of sharing an intimate encounter with him was something you had never dared to consider. But the way Isaac was looking at you, with a mix of hunger and excitement, made it feel like anything was possible

“You think he'd be okay with it?" you asked, your voice shaking with anticipation.

Isaac’s grin grew, and he gave your thigh a firm squeeze. "I think he'd be more than okay," he said confidently. "You know he's always had a thing for you?”

The revelation sent a shiver down your spine. Arthur had always been flirty, but you had dismissed it as part of his charm. Now, the way he'd looked at you during podcasts, the lingering touches, and the way his eyes followed you around the room, took on a new meaning. You had been so wrapped up in your own life that you'd missed the signs that were staring you in the face.

Isaac’s hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "We can make it happen," he murmured, his voice a seductive promise. "But only if you're sure."

You nodded, your heart racing. The thought of being with both of them was thrilling and terrifying, but the excitement won out. "Call him," you said, your voice a breathy whisper.

Isaac pulled away, his eyes alight with excitement. He grabbed his phone and dialed Arthur’s number, his eyes never leaving yours. You watched him, your chest heaving, as he spoke in hushed tones, laying out the plan. You could only catch fragments of the conversation, but the way his eyes darkened and his voice grew lower told you that Arthur was on board.

As Isaac hung up, he turned to you, his gaze intense. "He's on his way," he said, his voice thick with desire. "Are you sure about this?"

You nodded again, unable to form coherent words. The anticipation was almost too much to bear. You could feel your body reacting, your core tightening with need. Your stomach was a whirlwind of butterflies as you thought about what was to come. You'd never been with two men at once, and the idea of it was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. You tried to calm your racing thoughts, but the anticipation was too much. You took a deep breath, feeling your chest rise and fall with the effort.

*****

When the doorbell rang, your heart skipped a beat. Isaac gave you a reassuring wink before heading to the door. You could hear the muffled sound of their greetings, and then Arthur’s voice grew clearer as he entered the room.

"Hey, gorgeous," Arthur said, walking over and kissing you on the cheek. His lips lingered just a moment too long, sending a thrill through your body. Isaac sat down next to you, his hand resting possessively on your thigh. The tension in the room was palpable, a delicious cocktail of excitement and nerves.

"So, Isaac here tells me you've been reading some... interesting fanfics about me," Arthur said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. He had a mischievous glint in his brown doe eyes, one that told you he knew exactly what was going on. You felt your cheeks heat up again, but instead of looking away, you met his gaze, letting him see the desire in your eyes.

“They were just for the podcast," you protested weakly, though the tremor in your voice gave you away. Isaac chuckled, his hand squeezing your thigh in a silent message of support.

Arthur’s eyes searched yours, a smirk playing on his lips as he sat down across from you. "Is that so?" he said, his tone teasing. "But they turned you on, didn't they?" he said, his voice low and seductive. You felt your face flush even hotter, but you didn't deny it. There was something about the way he said it that made you feel like you were sharing a naughty secret, something thrilling and taboo.

Isaac leaned back into the couch, his hand sliding up to rest on the back of your neck. "You can tell us, babe," he murmured, his thumb tracing lazy circles that made your pulse race. "It's okay to be turned on by a good story."

You took a deep breath, the words sticking in your throat like a guilty confession. "Yes," you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "They did turn me on." Isaac’s hand tightened around your neck, his thumb still tracing circles.

The two men exchanged a look, a silent communication that seemed to carry more weight than any words could. Arthur's smile grew, his eyes darkening with desire. He took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, his gaze never leaving yours. "Well, if you liked the stories, maybe we could give you a taste of the real thing," he said, his voice like velvet.

You could feel the tension between the three of you, a heady mix of excitement and nerves. Arthur leaned in, his hand landing on your other thigh, his fingers playing with the hem of your shorts. "Is that what you want?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the tumult of emotions within you. The fanfics had been a catalyst, igniting a desire you hadn't even known existed. Now, with the two men you had fantasized about so intimately right in front of you, it was like stepping into a world you had only ever dared to imagine.

Isaac's hand slid up to the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer for a kiss that was anything but gentle. His tongue danced with yours, tasting and claiming, as Arthur's hand began to inch higher up your thigh. You could feel the heat radiating from both of them, their desire a palpable force that made you feel alive in a way you hadn't in ages.

Breaking the kiss, Isaac whispered, "Take off your shirt," his voice a gruff command that sent a thrill through your body. You complied, the fabric slipping off your shoulders to reveal your lacy black bra. Arthur's eyes widened, his hand pausing for a moment before he reached out to trace the edge of the fabric with a fingertip.

The touch was electric, sending a jolt of desire through you. You watched as Isaac's gaze drifted down to your chest, his eyes dark with lust. He leaned in, his teeth grazing your neck as he unclipped your bra, freeing your breasts. Arthur’s eyes locked on them, his pupils dilating with hunger.

Isaac’s mouth found one of your nipples, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. You gasped, arching your back, your hands tangling in his hair. Arthur took the opportunity to kiss along your collarbone, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. You could feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your bare leg, his hand now resting on your hip.

The anticipation was unbearable, the room spinning with the heady scent of desire. Then, Isaac pulled away, his eyes locked on Arthur's. "Your turn," he said, his voice a rough growl. Arthur's eyes met yours, and you could see the challenge in them. You leaned in, your heart racing, and kissed him for the first time.

It was nothing like you had ever experienced before. Isaac's kisses were familiar, a dance of love and comfort that you had shared countless times. Arthur's kiss was something else entirely—it was wild, raw, and consuming. His lips were soft, yet firm, demanding your attention as his tongue slid against yours. You felt a jolt of electricity as your bodies melded together, his hand cupping your face with a gentle urgency that made your knees go weak.

Isaac’s hand slid down your back, his fingers tracing the contours of your body as he watched the two of you, his desire evident in the way his chest rose and fell. You could feel his arousal pressing into your side, a constant reminder that this wasn't just a kiss between you and Arthur, but a shared experience among the three of you.

Arthur's hand moved to your bare shoulder, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin as he deepened the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, the sound lost in the mingling of your breaths. His other hand found its way to your breast, his touch firm yet gentle, teasing the nipple until it stood at attention. You couldn't help but arch into his touch, the sensation making your toes curl.

Isaac's hand slid down to your waist, his fingers unbuttoning your shorts with a deftness that spoke of experience. He tugged them down, revealing the dampness of your panties. Arthur broke the kiss, his eyes dropping to the exposed flesh, his breath hitching in his throat. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice hoarse with need.

You felt Isaac's hand slide over your bare skin, his thumb hooking into the fabric of your panties. He tugged them down, leaving you exposed and vulnerable, yet incredibly turned on. You watched as Arthur's eyes followed the movement, his hand now resting on the bulge in his pants, his fingers tracing the outline. The sight of him, so obviously affected by your shared intimacy, was intoxicating.

"Take them off," Isaac murmured, his voice thick with need. You obeyed, standing up to shimmy out of your shorts and panties, leaving you in nothing but your heels. Arthur's eyes roamed over your body, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. You felt a thrill of power at being the object of their desire, the center of their attention.

You sat back down on the couch, sitting in between the two boys. Isaac groaned as you pressed against him, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts. Arthur leaned in, his mouth finding your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. You moaned, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. Isaac's mouth found your other nipple, sucking hard, his teeth grazing the tender flesh.

You felt Arthur's hand slip between your thighs, his fingers toying with the slick folds of your sex. You were wet, so wet, and the feeling of his touch was almost too much. Isaac's hands roamed over your body, his fingertips teasing the edge of your ass, his thumbs tracing the line of your hips. You could feel their arousal, the thickness of their cocks pressing against you, and it only made you want more.

Isaac's mouth found yours again, his tongue delving deep as his hand began to rub you in slow, deliberate circles. You gasped into the kiss, your body responding instinctively to his touch. Isaac's hands moved to your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as he rocked his hips up into you, his hardness teasing your wetness.

You could feel the fabric of the couch beneath you, rough against your skin as Arthur's fingers slid deeper, his thumb circling your clit with expert precision. Isaac's mouth traveled down your neck, planting kisses along the way, his breath hot against your skin. Your hips began to move in time with Arthur's hand, the friction building into a crescendo of pleasure.

“Let's switch things up," Arthur murmured, his voice thick with desire. He gently pushed you back until you were lying on the couch, his eyes never leaving yours. He knelt between your legs, his hands on your thighs, spreading them wider. "I want to taste you," he said, his gaze burning into yours.

You felt a thrill of excitement at his words, the reality of the situation hitting you like a wave. You nodded, unable to form coherent words, as Arthur's hands guided you closer to the edge of the couch. Isaac watched, his eyes hooded with lust, as Arthur leaned in, his breath hot against your center. You could feel the anticipation building, the tension in the room almost tangible.

Arthur's tongue flicked out, tasting you for the first time, and you moaned, your hips bucking upward. He chuckled, the vibration against your clit sending sparks of pleasure through your body. His tongue delved deeper, exploring you with a hunger that was both surprising and thrilling. He was so attentive, so eager to please. Isaac's hands were on your breasts again, pinching and teasing your nipples as he watched Arthur devour you.

The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of Arthur's skilled mouth and Isaac's firm grip on your body pushing you closer to the edge. You reached down, your fingers tangling in Arthur's hair, guiding him as he licked and sucked. You could feel the tension building, your muscles tightening as the first waves of orgasm began to crash over you. Isaac leaned down, his mouth finding yours as Arthur's tongue swirled around your clit, pushing you over the edge.

“Arthur, I'm going to cum," you gasped, the words barely making it past the lump in your throat. Arthur's eyes flicked up to meet yours, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he redoubled his efforts. You could feel the warmth spreading through your body, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until you couldn't hold it in anymore. You moaned, the sound muffled by Isaac's mouth, as you came, your body shuddering with pleasure.

The two men pulled back, their gazes locked on you as your orgasm washed over you. You felt a warm glow spread through you, a sense of satisfaction that was new and exhilarating. Isaac's hand slid down to cup your face, turning it so he could kiss you again, deep and slow, as Arthur's thumb lazily circled your clit, sending aftershocks through your body.

*****

When your breathing had evened out, Isaac whispered, "Now it's our turn." He slid out from under you, standing up and unbuckling his belt. Arthur followed suit, his eyes never leaving yours as he stripped out of his clothes. The sight of the two of them, fully aroused and ready, was like something out of your wildest dreams.

Without a word, you reached out and took Arthur's cock in your mouth, the velvety softness of his skin against your lips sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Isaac watched with rapt attention, his hand moving to stroke his erection as he took in the sight of you pleasuring his podcast partner. The sensation was foreign, yet exhilarating, and you found yourself eager to explore more.

Isaac knelt beside the couch, his eyes on your bobbing head as he stroked himself. His cock was thick and veined, the tip glistening with precum. You felt his hand on your thigh, his thumb brushing against your still-sensitive clit, sending shockwaves through your body. You moaned around Arthur's cock, the vibration making him gasp.

"Fuck, you're so good at that," Arthur groaned, his hand tightening in your hair.

"Arthur, she's incredible," Isaac said, his voice thick with desire. "Her mouth is magic." Arthur groaned in response, his eyes rolling back as you took him deeper, the sound of your gagging only adding to the intensity of the moment.

The praise sent a jolt of excitement through you, making you want to show them just how good you could be. You took Arthur deeper into your mouth, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked with all the passion and skill that Isaac had enjoyed.

Isaac leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "You're going to make him cum so hard," he whispered, his hand sliding down to your ass, his fingers teasing your opening.

The dual sensations of Arthur's cock in your mouth and Isaac's fingers on your ass were driving you wild. You felt yourself getting wetter, your pussy begging to be filled. Isaac noticed, his hand moving to stroke your clit as he whispered more dirty words of encouragement.

"That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice a low growl of approval. "Take him all in. Show him how much you want this." Your eyes watered slightly as you took him deeper, the tip brushing the back of your throat. You felt a thrill of power as Isaac's hand tightened in your hair, guiding you, his breathing growing ragged. You had never done this before, but something about the moment made it feel incredibly right.

You felt Isaac's breath against your ear, his words sending shivers down your spine. You could feel his arousal pressing against your back, his hand still working magic on your clit. Arthur's hips began to buck, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth in a rhythm that matched the strokes of your hand. You could taste the saltiness of his precum, a hint of what was to come.

Suddenly, Arthur's body tensed, and with a guttural groan, he came. You felt the warmth of his cum fill your mouth, and you swallowed eagerly, not missing a beat. The salty taste was surprisingly delicious, a testament to the power of the moment. You pulled back, licking your lips, watching the aftermath of pleasure play out on his face. Isaac's hand slid away from your clit, giving you a moment to catch your breath. Isaac leaned in, watching with hooded eyes as you continued to pleasure Arthur, drawing out every last drop of his release.

Arthur leaned back, his chest heaving, a look of pure bliss etched on his features. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at the power you had over him, the way he had lost control in your mouth. Isaac chuckled, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Good girl," he murmured, his hand tracing the line of your jaw.

You looked up at Arthur, his cock still semi-hard in front of you. "Can you go again?" you asked the question dripping with curiosity and desire. He blinked, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "For you?" he replied, his voice still thick with arousal. "Always."

Isaac chuckled, his hand guiding his erection closer to your mouth. You eagerly took him in, his taste a heady mix of desire and power. As you began to suck, Arthur's cock grew harder, the anticipation building. You felt him shift behind you, his fingers ghosting over your ass before he positioned himself at your entrance.

With a single, smooth thrust, Arthur entered you, filling you up completely. You gasped around Isaac's cock, the sensation of being filled by two men at once was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. Isaac's hand tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as Arthur began to move, his strokes long and slow, drawing out the pleasure.

"Look at her," Isaac said, his voice filled with pride. "Taking us both like a champ."

Arthur's hand smacked down on your ass, the sound echoing in the quiet room. You yelped, the sting turning into a rush of heat that only added to your arousal. He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. "That's it, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "You're so fucking sexy."

You could feel his cock pulsing inside you, his hips moving in a steady rhythm that had you on the edge of another orgasm. Isaac's eyes never left yours as you took him deeper into your mouth, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, a testament to Arthur's passionate strokes.

Arthur's hand tightened on your hip, his other hand sliding around to your throat. He didn't squeeze, but the mere presence of his touch there sent a shiver down your spine. It was a silent claim of dominance, one that had your body responding in ways you didn't fully understand. You felt Isaac's cock swell in your mouth, his breathing growing ragged.

The three of you moved in a symphony of passion, each touch and stroke building upon the last. You could feel Arthur's cock twitching, his movements growing more urgent. Isaac's hand in your hair tightened, his hips jerking as he approached his climax. You could feel your orgasm building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter.

Suddenly, Isaac's hand left your hair, his fingers sliding down to trace your cheek. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice strained. You obeyed, your eyes locking with his as he began to spurt into your mouth, filling you with his warmth. You swallowed, the salty taste of him mixing with the pleasure of Arthur's cock inside you. Isaac's eyes never left yours, the intimacy of the moment searing into your soul.

Arthur's pace quickened, his breaths coming in harsh pants as he felt his release building. He leaned over you, his hand sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb flicking the nipple. The two men watched each other over your body, their expressions a mix of lust and possessiveness. Arthur's strokes grew more erratic, his breathing ragged. "I'm going to cum," he warned, his voice tight. You felt your orgasm building, the pressure in your core threatening to shatter you.

“Come for us," Isaac murmured, his hand sliding down to stroke your clit in time with Arthur's thrusts. The combination was too much, and with a scream that was muffled by Isaac’s mouth on yours, you came again, your body convulsing around Arthur's. He followed you over the edge, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he filled you with his release.

For a moment, the three of you stayed like that, panting and trembling, lost in the aftermath of your shared climax. Then, Arthur withdrew, his cock glistening with your juices.

You felt boneless, your muscles turned to jelly as Arthur pulled out, his breathing ragged. Isaac helped you up, his arm around your waist as you swayed slightly. "You okay?" he asked, his voice a low rumble of concern. You nodded, a lazy smile on your face, still reeling from the intensity of the experience.

The three of you stood there for a moment, panting and sweaty, the air thick with the scent of sex. Isaac leaned in to kiss you, his tongue claiming your mouth in a way that left no doubt who you belonged to. Arthur's hand rested on your shoulder, his own need for dominance sated for the moment.

*****

The three of you collapsed onto the couch, breathing heavily, your bodies sticky with sweat and cum. You felt a sense of euphoria wash over you, a heady mix of satisfaction and disbelief.

“Damn, that was incredible," Arthur murmured, his voice heavy with satisfaction. You nodded, unable to find the words to express the tumult of emotions coursing through you. You felt used in the best possible way, claimed by two men who had given you pleasure beyond anything you'd ever known.

Arthur stepped closer, his hand tracing the line of your spine as he leaned in to kiss you. "You're both incredible," you managed to say, your voice a hoarse whisper.

*****

Arthur stepped back, his desire still evident in his eyes. "Let's get you cleaned up," he said, his voice still thick with lust. You nodded, your legs wobbly as Isaac helped you to your feet. He led you to the bathroom, the two of them following close behind. The warm water of the shower washed over you, the steam filling the room as they lathered your body with gentle, soothing strokes.

They took turns washing you, their hands gliding over your skin with a tenderness that belied the intensity of what had just happened. You felt cherished, desired, and utterly consumed by them. Isaac's hands lingered on your breasts, his thumbs flicking your sensitive nipples until you gasped. Arthur's soapy hands roamed down your back, his fingers tracing the lines of your ass before slipping between your cheeks.

You took a deep breath, feeling both sated and overwhelmed. "Guys," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I can't handle anymore tonight." You felt a twinge of regret, but your body was begging for a break from the intensity of the evening.

Isaac's arms tightened around you, his lips brushing against your ear. "Sshh, baby," he soothed. "You've been amazing. We'll save the rest for another time." His words were like a warm blanket, wrapping around you and easing the tension that had built up in your muscles.

Arthur nodded in agreement, his eyes still dark with hunger, but understanding in your exhaustion. "You've done more than enough," he said, his voice a soft rumble that sent shivers down your spine despite your satiation. "Let us take care of you now."

When you were clean, they helped you out of the shower, wrapping you in a soft, warm towel. Isaac's arms circled you from behind, his chest pressing against your back as he kissed your neck. Arthur took the towel from you, his eyes never leaving yours as he dried you off, his touch lingering in all the right places.

They led you to the bedroom, the soft light from the bedside lamp casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets. Isaac laid you down, his hands smoothing over your skin as Arthur climbed in beside you. They surrounded you, their warm bodies a comforting cocoon that seemed to chase away any lingering nerves or doubts.

You snuggled closer to Isaac, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you against his chest. Arthur's hand found your thigh, his fingers idly stroking the soft skin as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. You felt safe, cherished, and more alive than you had in a long time.

You looked up at Isaac, your hand sliding up to trace the line of his jaw. He opened his eyes, the intensity in them replaced with a soft, affectionate gaze. "Thank you," you whispered, the words barely carrying across the pillow.

He smiled, a gentle curve of his lips that made your heart flutter. "For what?"

You shrugged, feeling a little shy. "For making this happen. For making it feel...right."

Isaac leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft and reassuring. "You're welcome," he murmured. "Now get some rest. We've got a podcast to record tomorrow."

You chuckled, the mundane thought of the podcast a stark contrast to the erotic whirlwind of the evening. Arthur's hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray lock of hair. "Sleep tight, love," he whispered, his voice thick with affection.

“I can't believe we're going to talk about this on the podcast," you said, a hint of nervousness in your voice.

“Don't worry," Isaac assured you, his thumb tracing small circles on your hip. "We're not going to spill the beans about what happened here. That's our little secret." Arthur nodded in agreement, his hand still resting on your thigh. "But we will definitely talk about the fanfics," he added with a wink.

The three of you lay there, the tension of the evening slowly unwinding. The air was still heavy with the scent of sex and desire, but now it was tempered with a warmth that was almost comforting. Isaac’s chest rose and fell steadily beneath you, his heartbeat a reassuring throb that lulled you closer to sleep. Arthur's hand continued to move in lazy circles, his breathing evening out as his eyes drifted closed.

The podcast was going to be interesting tomorrow, you thought with a small smile. But for now, you were content to bask in the afterglow of your newfound reality. This was a night that would go down in history, not just for the podcast, but for the three of you.

******

Ménage à trois (Part 2)

A/N: Let me know what you guys think my first time writing in a while, I am going to open my requests to imagines of the British YouTube scene. Let me know if anyone would be interested in that!

A/n: Big shoutout and thanks to @g-xix and @live-laugh-lenney for letting me reference and use some of their brilliant smut in this imagine

Smuts references:

Submissive ArthurTV smut

arthur loves lingerie