#it’s so over I’m so obsessed w this now and forever

[cthuloo]

I went through a goddamn journey with this one my GOD Edge your stuff makes me go insane

"FIGHT SO DIRTY BUT YOU LOVE SO SWEET

Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth" - Teeth, 5 Seconds of Summer

MAFIA AU Arlecchino x Reader Oneshot | Part 2 of "LATE NIGHT DEVIL, PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME"

A/N - As promised, here is the (albeit, very late) 250 follower special. Art by M-Alexa. Content Warnings / Info - Arlecchino uses they/them pronouns, sugggestiveness, pet names, borderline smut, no feminine pronouns for reader, 10.7k words

Monsters are very real. You know that they’re tangible because they’ve touched you in ways so intimate you could delude yourself in being familiar with them despite how icy their touch is. What draws the line between monster and human? You can't say anymore, not when involuntary sensations and uncontrollable emotions have entangled you with the Fatui, the Fourth Harbinger to be exact, a monster in every right, and yet…

You used to think that the line was cut-throat, a visible drawn etching in the sand–so easy to see when someone passed through. As obvious as their appearance once they've entered through the doorway. It was evident in those that were painted in wretched and jagged scars like their skin was a blank canvas. Perceptible in those that too rarely stifled their brash volatility, taking pride in their bruteness and their trigger-happiness. Apparent in those with their sly-eyed, piercing scrutiny, silent as the dead they were, yet it was usually among these archetypes whose power reigned the most throughout. Discernable in those that can wear many faces, spilling a hundred lies from their lips with as much effort as it takes for them to breathe; typically, they were as inviting as a puppy guiding a lamb to a den of wolves. 

You couldn’t discern anymore what kind of monster Lord Arlecchino matched. Was it that they were never a monster to begin with, or is it just your irrationality muddying what should be the obvious? It should alarm you that your mind doesn't perceive them as such anymore, despite knowing so little of the danger they grasp underneath their fingertips. How quick they were to wrap their hand around your throat, tantalizing you with each scrape of carmine nails against your kiss-bruised skin. 

But monsters are incapable of love. You think you've been fooled in believing in it when they trace your body with their touch, but then again, what monster's touch can be akin to that of an angel’s? Maybe angels themselves were also monsters. It's how you knew they were the most fatal mistake you could have made but you remain unapologetic shamelessly. Why should you, for indulging in something so tasteful? Is it not human desire to be selfish, to satisfy oneself? It's only natural to savor sweet fruit.

Their touch still lingers, on every inch of skin their depraved and gluttonous they could reach, the heat from their contact ever present like bubbling magma underneath the surface. Even after they're gone, it still tingles with sweltering desire and comes with the vivid image of their imprintment on you. How you remembered their wet lips against your neck, teeth sunk in and the rough drag of their tongue across, while their fingers edged closer to the waistband of your fishnets. Oh, how you remembered the delicious grinding of their hips against yours, a coarse friction that sends shocks of pleasure through you as they swallow every wanton cry from your lips and stifle any movements from you with a tight grasp of your waist. As red stained marks were stamped over the expanse of your bare clavicle, you remember a particular sultry chuckle from them when they captured your wrists in one hand effortlessly, willing you unable to touch them even when you had begged to do so. How cruel of them to deprive you of what you so avidly coveted, but you think their touch is rewarding enough to dismiss the one-sidedness of the physical intimacy. 

Though, you hesitate to call it physical intimacy. Somehow, the touches that lit your heart ablaze the most only scrape the surface of indecency, as nothing transpired beyond kisses and love marks. It was the first time you left a private room relatively untouched, and though they had definitely teased you of it, no action slipped lower than your collarbone–not even a single piece of clothing peeled from your body. It leaves an unsettling, complex bundle of desires: wanting more and less of their touch simultaneously: you long for their touch, to feel that addicting fervor again, for your own unchaste gratification, however, having not been used as a tool for sensual fulfillment, you almost find it…nearly comforting–freeing may be the right word. A relief from what was usually an obligation. It’s… strange, is the least you can account it to. You’ve never wanted more from a client. Every past one has been just a means for income, hardly even considered cheap entertainment, and yet… you find your thoughts returning back to them, ensnaring your mind and plaguing your consciousness with memories of your two’s ‘unchastity.’ 

Lord Arlecchino, the Knave, the Fourth Harbinger of the Fatui, stole your thoughts just like a thief in the night, the ghost of their whispered words frequently haunting you. “‘I think I’ll keep you to myself after this,’” they had said with such certainty, and that voice would repeat indefinitely in your ears. For the most inexplicable reason, you found yourself eager, having believed them, however, you quickly discovered how naive you were–foolish to have ever hoped in such a shallow assertion and absurd to have wished for that in the first place. How dim of you to trust words influenced by fleeting ardor, for allowing irrationality to creep up in your vulnerable state of intoxication from them. They had left your body that night, with little to no effort, unsatisfied yet marked by them entirely, remnants of their presence still scattered on your body. How cruel, and yet very characteristic of them, though the latter recognition almost physically burned you to admit. A burn that you couldn’t quite associate one feeling to it. 

You think the feeling is akin to abandonment, maybe betrayal, but you couldn’t fault Arlecchino–not when you were the one to have fallen for their lies. In the heat of the moment, their amorous words had done nothing less but stroke an ember within your body, fueling your own feverish arousal, amplifying your experience, but that was all it was. Abandonment couldn’t be correct, not when you were never theirs in the first place and you had willingly offered yourself to them. Nor can betrayal suit it; there was no foundation of trust built between the two of you either. You should have known that trust, among your clients especially, is as flimsy as a sheet of paper. But what can explain this obstinate hollowness in your chest, unable to be filled no matter how many meaningless acts of intimacy you throw at it, or how many fantasies you’d delude yourself once you're in the solace being underneath your covers? It’s a clawing irritant that occupies your mind when you’ve found yourself alone, seeking for the phantom presence of them.

You miss them–at the very least, their touch–you realize belatedly, and for that you couldn’t consider yourself to be more pathetic. Never before in your experience have you ever thought of a previous client but you suppose every day is an opportunity to discover something new. Attachments were a sure way to kill yourself in this business, in the underground. You had intended on keeping yourself alive, but here you are. How degrading of you, you internally admonished, fool, fool, fool. 

What was it about them that had captivated you so much? Perhaps it was their unique charm. Curt and sharp as they were, you could not help but admit there was something alluring about their words, the authority that dripped from them, instilling you to do nothing but obey them. Perhaps it was their captivating appearance, a masterful and tasteful blend of ruggedness with class, snow white hair adorned with ebony streaks framing their porcelain-like face, but their stature was nothing of that case. Though lean as they were, from the rare prodding touches they allowed you where you could feel their toned physique, you can tell strength and power laid underneath their fingertips; if not from that, then perhaps how easily they nearly suffocated you with one hand alone, or how they had easily hoisted you up and against the wall. The red crossed pupils were nothing like you’ve ever seen and underneath that ever-piercing behold you’re little more than a timid prey before a hungry beast. 

Your interactions with Lord Arlecchino were like being teared by the fangs of a voracious wolf. Every delicate sense–touch, hearing, sight, smell, and taste–pecked away little by little until all you could register in your lust-brimmed mind was their entirety. Sapping away your strength and resistance, impelling you to submit your all to them, through their every feverish touch; deafening your eardrums with each wet noise that followed their lips; dizzying you with their faint, earthy cologne; your eyes drinking in their appearance with every chance; and oh, their sickeningly sweet taste–far too depraved and far too addictive. You’re breathless everytime you think of it. When they finally released you, peeling away from your form, your body looked as if it had just barely escaped a maiming from a wild animal: teeth indents, light scratches, and red blotches of their lipstick flecked your upper torso and face.

They parted from you hours into the early morning. It felt like they had been stealing your breath for hours. You couldn’t count how many times their lips met yours, but it was enough where you could memorize the texture of them, of their warmth and sweetness. You couldn’t recall the duration the two of you spent locked with each others’ lips, but you could recall the various positions they had you. One such position, you muse with clenched thighs, was when they towered above your lying form on the couch, a bent knee in between your legs and their arms on either side of your head, planting their palms onto the cushion underneath you while they descended down to capture kiss after kiss from you. You remembered the tickling sensation of their ivory and raven strands that fell on your cheek, and how you raised a gentle hand to brush them away. In retaliation, what could only be described as something in between a growl and a grunt came from the Harbinger’s throat, one of their hands moved away from its resting place besides your head and clasped with yours, before firmly planting it against the sofa–a clear lesson not to touch them so casually, to which you smiled cheekily. They stole that smile away with little wasted time using a harsh nip on your bottom lip. 

And then, like that, they left. 

A week has gone by–more accurately, six days–since they had last appeared, and in that period, you’ve yet seen them. You worked consecutively, opting to even neglect your free work day, with the hopes of catching a glimpse. Ultimately, however, your efforts bore no fruit; not a single of your customers was the white-haired devilish angel that plagued your thoughts. White-hot shame and crushing disappointment grew with each passing day. The first unspoken word of advice amongst your fellow dancers was that attachments to customers are never worthwhile: even frequent customers disappear, and if you are lucky, you discover why. The reasons ranged from death to simply boredom, but the latter is always the most devastating, an agonizing reminder of how insignificant your life can be. 

You had hoped to consider yourself among the smarter of your coworkers. You thought yourself immune to those follies, impenetrable to the charms and advances of all your customers–none to date had made your heart palpitate the way it did in the Harbinger's presence. It's unfathomable that you allow yourself to sink to such depths, to find yourself coveting for something you shouldn't, for something you can't have, for something that is beyond the likes of you. Convincing yourself with certainty, you were sure that you were above the idea of ardor–percase, your mistake was appraising yourself of just that. Now, you struggle against the very woes your coworkers forewarned you about. 

Lying conscious on your wretched mattress, the cycle of rue repeats internally, battling against the drowsiness from your day's work. The thin and tattered sheets do little to provide you with the warmth you seek, and the lumpy, yet simultaneously, feathersoft pillow fails to ease your neck. The discomfort is only heightened by the darkness that plunges your chamber, like an abyss that's consumed you whole– just like your thoughts.

You urge your mind to settle, to calm a roaring yearning forever left unsatisfied, for even a single minute of slumber but it's futile. Once more, your thoughts drift to your angel donned in scarlet–divine touches and blest hymns. If touching this bit of heaven garners this cruel punishment of eternal desire, then you will cling onto these phantom traces of theirs until the gates of hell swallow you whole. 

Soft, thudding noises approach you from the foot of your bed’s direction. Lifting your gaze to the door, the question comes of whose presence this is. Already having worked your shift, there is the possibility your manager came to you because of a unique request–one that he himself couldn't refuse. A weight manifests in your stomach, unease slinking towards your thoughts; this is your off-time after all and . There’s the foreboding knock on your door, before the knob turns with a click. Your manager walks through, his short, plump silhouette before you–

Your oxygen is teared from your lips, making you breathless as an imposing aura overtakes your entire form, as if gravity grew exponentially stronger just then, pushing down on you with the goal of crushing you until nothingness. Your lungs burn from the deprivation of air and a prickling sensation coats your skin, the combined effect making you tremble like a meek sheep before prey. Their footsteps as they enter your dwelling increases the pressure on your shoulders, forcing you to shrink into yourself. This commanding presence is far from being foreign, there are only a few customers–mafia members–that come to mind that can inflict this kind of dominion. Frozen in place, your heart quickly halts as your sight takes in the person before you, a dawning recognition falls upon you: this isn’t your manager. Instead, what replaces him, is a taller, leaner stature, vaguely familiar but distinctly not him. Plunged in darkness, you couldn’t discern any more details, and the unknown identity induces every hair on your limbs to stand up. 

And yet, despite the unrest that forms inside of you, for an inexplicable reason, there comes a lilt in your heart, your roseate thoughts returning to one individual with a dire need. 

The person makes no movements nor noise, but they are certainly aware of your presence. They remain in place near the doorway, as if prompting you for any action. Yet you’re too unsure, too cautious to act. With each passing second of silence, the air thickens, making it increasingly harder to not sink into the covers of your bed and allow your blanket to swallow you whole. Disbelief settles within you as the two of you linger in silence. Your whirling thoughts start to justify those doubts, crushing that meager hope inside of you. It is not them, because you have been deceived, tossed aside like a broken doll, no longer of entertainment or use to them; abandoned by someone who never truly considered you as theirs in the first place. 

Still, you couldn’t discern the reason for the palpitation of your heart at that moment–isit out of fear or anticipation? Likely, it's a combination of both. It hums in your ear, your pulse faint but tangible and steady, and a chill crawls up your spine, eliciting you to tremble in place like a mouse about to be preyed upon. Becoming more certain that they are not the Harbinger, terror worms into your mind and inflicts upon your heart. Your heart rate skyrockets as if the beating organ is thumping out of your chest, deafening you with nothing but the erratic drumming. Have they come to end you? Have you displeased a customer so much that they intend to make you repay the price with your life?

It is a simple utterance. It is a single word that echoes through the room, one syllable that rings through your ears. And yet, it is this sound that rips your heart from a cold, drowning, lonely abyss and plunges it into the warm, welcoming depths of a familiar company. It shreds any lingering doubt within you like claws would to paper, eradicating it as if it was nothing more than a miniscule pest. In your veins does your pulse sing, humming a delightful hymn, the returning sensation of warmth fills you. Had you been anyone else besides yourself viewing this, you would call it a pathetic sight, but in this whisper of time, a wild inferno of your desires is lit and swarms over your mind. With just one simple utterance, you had turned from a scared, cornered mouse into an awaiting puppy–tail wagging and ears perked–for its approaching owner.  

“Doll.” 

You know of that voice far too well, for only having heard of it for one night. A persistent, almost tantalizing voice that creeps into your dreams at all hours of the day, murmuring with an alluring lilt the same pet name in your ear like the Harbinger had done six nights prior. It is the voice of a seraph under the guise of a demon. And when an ethereal being beckons you, you have no other obligation but to respond. 

“Sir?” The softest of whispers escape you, bated breath evident in your voice. You worry that the barely audible title doesn't reach their ears, but then the soft thumping of stilettos reverberate through the room, matching the pace of your rapid heart, nearing you, until they appear by your bedside. Upclose, you swear that red x’s glint dimly.  An obscure shadow casts over you and the silhouette of a hand reaches out; their palm grazes against your throat as slender fingers seize your chin to tilt your head up–a familiar hold that involuntarily soothes you given the sigh you release. 

“I told you, didn't I?” They say with an alluring lilt, a telling sign of a smirk on their features. They stroke their thumb over your bottom lip, before pressing down. Involuntarily, your tongue peeks out to lap at their thumb pad. Your cheeks swarm with an unbearable calidity, which spreads to the rest of your body, suffocating flames that scorch your entirety. 

“I said that I'd keep you as mine. Or did you forget?” 

Forgetting their words was as plausible as you learning how to fly. You stopped yourself from carelessly revealing how their discrete promise haunts your ears, ringing through your thoughts at any spontaneous minute; you had no desire of disclosing just how much of an influence they have on you–whether that was to persuade them or yourself more. Instead you offer them a wordless shake of your head.

Arlecchino lets out a content hum, before their hand slides down from your chin to your arm, grasping it with a bit of firmness. 

“Come with me, Doll. Such a quality doll such as yourself deserves a suitable dollhouse, is that not right? This,” You assume that they gesture to the room from the shuffle of clothes. “is hardly fitting for you, the sad state that it is.” 

Your heart beat falters for a moment, as contemplation befalls you, attempting to properly comprehend their words. You surmise that the Harbinger is offering you for a new accommodation but you ponder the cost–surely, they would not provide it out of the goodness of their heart, and you were uncertain if they even held such a thing. As delightful as they are, forgetting your place in relation to others will only spell hazard for you. A ‘doll'–whatever that pertains to–is the service they likely seek from you, and you have a few estimates as to what it is. 

It's dreadfully tempting. A chance to escape from your current workplace, but what of your wellbeing? At least, here, you could sustain yourself, shelter, food, and warmth are provided, but could you expect the same with the Harbinger? If you were to come with them, would you only be pulled deeper into the underground? Was the mafia a company you wanted to linger around? As you continue to swat back the clouds of infatuation, rationality returning to you, there are too many unknowns to recklessly comply with. Then again, what would the Harbinger do to you, if you were to refuse them? For now, you're in their favor, but who is to say you will not lose it in some erratic way? 

Perhaps they will grow bored of you. Perhaps you won't satisfy them enough. Or, perhaps, they have even more nefarious intentions. The mind of a criminal is fickle and, more often than not, unstable, and in the first place, such individuals are rarely credible. If they were to promise beneficial conditions for your being, there is no way to ensure they keep to their word. Your debt, at the very least, serves as a form of protection: the nitery wouldn't be able to work you until they regain every penny you borrowed if you were dead. Arlecchino, however? They have no need to.

“You must be reconsidering my offer. That's to be expected, of course,” Arlecchino interrupts your train of thought, not a single break from their calculated way of words; it almost makes you shiver at how well they seem to read you. It truly is no wonder why they’re the fourth among the Harbingers, they truly are cunning. Do they have something to offer you for additional encouragement? 

“I have no doubt that some unfortunate circumstance must have brought you to an establishment like this. With that knowledge, hm…” Arlecchino pauses, before you feel their hand leaves your arm. The darkness of the room provides little information on what they're doing, until one of their coarse hands slides underneath your palm, lifting it slightly. Cool metal slides over your left thumb. 

“This…”

“Yes, it's a ring,” the mafia leader confirms. “More specifically, it is my ring.” 

You trace your right thumb over the ring, feeling some sort of round jewel over it. Underneath your thumb pad, is a small etching, which you trace. 

“From now on, this ring is yours. While it's not visible as of right now, etched onto it is the symbol of the Tsaritsa. It symbolizes my Harbinger status,” they continue, and you whip your attention towards them.

“Why would–” You halt yourself before you say anything impulsive. “Thank you for this, Sir, but… if it is of such significance…” 

“–why am I giving this to you? Consider this an investment. Here is my preposition to you. Come with me, and you will be fed, sheltered, and spoiled by me–my protection and overseeing of your health is, undoubtedly implied. If you are displeased with my treatment, you can leave freely, anytime, anywhere, and nothing will be asked of you–not so much as an explanation for your departure. In fact, at this very moment, you could leave right now. I will not stop you.

“The ring, being the mark of a Harbinger, will almost certainly protect you from anyone sensible enough not to touch those under the Tsaritsa’s grace. Beyond that, you could always sell it to a trustworthy jewelry inspector; I know of one if you need a reference. I guarantee you that what you will earn is enough for you to live comfortably in society for at least a decade or so.” 

“You would��” You stop to recollect your thoughts, as your body shakes, brimming with thrill. Your mind is still trying to encompass all of the capabilities this very ring contained. It may very well be worth ten times your entire life, and yet you possessed something such as this. With this, you could leave your hellish life behind. Everything you have always wanted could be right in your grasp now. You could finally enjoy a luxurious life, just by yourself. 

“You would really give this to me? Something so precious?” You question breathlessly. 

“Yes. If you would consider my preposition. So?” 

A beguiled smile makes its way onto your lips. 

—

The existence of monsters should not comfort you, but yet it does. No, that is wrong–there is just one exception. Having heard of such hushed stories, warning you to be wary of such shadowy beasts, the ones that lurk in unsuspecting corners and stalk the most innocuous of lambs, nonetheless, the notion of who can be considered as a ‘monster’ has been shattered by one individual. A monster in every right, except in any respect to you, can a diabolical angel still be deemed as such? Do they deserve to bear such a title, when every breath exhaled sends welcomed shivers down your spine and every contacted surface is blessed under their touch? 

Perhaps you are still one of those very lambs for them. There is the possibility that you are just another sheep ensnared by a charming wolf, but then it raises the question of why you haven't been devoured yet. You have no doubt of the appetite that such a beast like them would carry, but nonetheless you remain. Will your time for slaughter come? Like herded sheep, you're fenced in, grazing through the grassland placidly, but how much longer will your freedom and life extend? 

Does it still make you a sheep, if the most miniscule, internal sector of you would indulge in being devoured? 

It's something you could not help yourself from wondering, even with the graciousness from Arlecchino. They've taken care of you far better than the nitery had ever, in the span of the few weeks you've agreed to stay with them, serving as their ‘doll.’ As restrictive and degrading as the role sounds, actuality does not propose the same. You're still tied to the Fourth Fatui Harbinger–come when they beckon, obey what they will–but you have a daunting amount of individual freedom you previously could never afford. Necessities, such as a living space, meals, and clothing, are all provided, lavishly, unlike your previous work environment. 

Arlecchino personally had a room selected for you, a sizable, decorated chamber that housed a Queen bed, along with an ensuite bathroom. Restful sleep comes easy to you now that you've acquired a plush bed that dwarfs your figure. You've been spoiled with not only nourishing, but delectable dishes that you've never encountered before. Not only that, but they were made and served by personal chefs of the Harbinger. Upon arriving at your new accommodation, your wardrobe was brimming with all types of clothing that was suited to your size in all sorts of colors. 

Perhaps it is because you haven't received such treatment before, but if you had such audacity to assume, you would compare yourself to that of a monarch's favored consort. 

Your work as a ‘doll’ doesn't consist of much–that is what makes it more perplexing to you. It's not like any job or gig–you're not paid but it is no less rewarding. A ‘doll,’ from what you can presume with what they've requested of you, is a sexual partner, for when they're in need of ‘relief.’ Though you'd like for your relationship with Arlecchino to be perfectly encapsulated as just that, even that fails to entail entirely of what it is. This statement comes apparent with the case that you've yet engaged with them intimately.

You cannot deny that with this comes brewing frustration and consolation inside of you. 

In the few weeks having lived at the same residence as them, which also doubles as a base of operations for the Fatui, there's quite a few things you learn of the Knave. Their assertive presence alone commands the room upon entering, and it is felt by every single soul in their proximity. Apathetically and brutally effective is how they function, no matter their audience, though strangely you are an exception to that. Stoic as they are in every aspect of their life–whether that handling mafia matters or simply eating–they have shown acts of mercy and repayment towards their subjects, especially the younger ones underneath them. Requital seems to be one of their core values, a quality that is often paired with their demand for control. Just as they oversee all around them, they themselves are not beyond their charge.

You see the discrete conflict in their eyes before each press of their lips against yours, and in their twitching fingers, which tremble in the same reluctant manner as yours does, always lingering around your waist. Every kiss is greedy and ravenous, with the intention of stealing every bit of morality within you as they draw you in, but their touch is notably neither of the two. The Fourth Harbinger exercises an awkward balance between restraint and surrender of desires–as if they craved further connection from you, but you dare not to assume so flatteringly of yourself. For this reason alone, you do not question the Knave, but it is no less vexing. 

Beasts like themselves do not hold themselves back. They are voracious and all-consuming, they are merciless and eager in their plunders, second to none in selfishness and brutality. If Arlecchino is truly among them, then their behavior proves to only be baffling. If you cannot expect the worst from them like all monsters are, then what can you predict from them? For what reason do they restrain themselves? Why would they limit themselves when they have more than enough authority and force to take what they desire. You wish you could know, if only to end this constant, frustrating game of desire that you are losing. 

You don't understand the casual gestures that imply something more romantic if you didn't know better. The invitations to dinner, the outings with them, the chaste kisses and fleeting touches. In each interaction, you have to remind yourself of your status–that you still hold little value, no matter the change of management, and at every drop of dawn, when you lie alone in your bed, that hollow ache sweeps over you and engulfs you whole into a riptide. What more use are you than entertainment just as empty as yourself? 

Still, it is irrefutable that you hold a certain attraction to them. You covet for their contact and gaze to loiter over the expanse of your body, for their voice to always ring through your ears, for the time between the two of you to stretch past infinity; it soon occured to you that something lies deeper than just lust for the Harbinger, something you did not want to acknowledge but it has prolonged since after the first night you met them. Though Arlecchino does not place a label on the relationship, even for as foolish and swayed as you are, you could not dream beyond the contacts that hold no significance or the words that contain no promises. The knowledge of this places a heavy ache in your chest, one that pings every now and then with every meeting with the Harbinger. Knowing how futile it is, a part of yourself wants to strangle these yearnings, so that all that is choked out is a shallow, physical urge, and you no longer drown in the abyss that is Arlecchino.

It is only natural that when you harbor such complexities towards them, sexual desires, too, are a part of said twisted conglomeration of hazy emotions and affections. How many times were you in need of relief, murmuring out their name as you intensified your movements in between your legs, only to be left empty and disgruntled? If you had to give an estimate, it would be a dozen or so times. While your circumstance could no longer be judged by typical morality, the very act of yearning feels sinful, a wrongdoing, a refutal of your values. No lamb lusts over a wolf, after all, but this knowledge doesn't lessen the ache.  

So, like the meek sheep that you are, you say nothing, even when Arlecchino once again requests your presence for dinner–through a relayed message from their subordinate of course. You wonder if they're aware of the very effects they imposed on you, how the simple act of inviting you to dinner makes both your heart swim and sink simultaneously.

You knock on their office door, waiting for permission until you're asked inside. You enter with a brief awed gasp, greeted by the usual suited appearance of Arlecchino. They sit behind their desk and donning a stark midnight blazer, over an ash-colored and blood-crimson vest paired with a matching loose tie underneath the collar of their white buttoned dress shirt. A lit cigarette is perched between their lips and a pair of black reading glasses nestled on the bridge of their nose. Upon your entrance, they reach up, wrenching the cigarette from their mouth to snuff it out, rubbing the butt of the stick against the ashtray beside them.  

Near instantaneously, your stomach coils with an insufferable fervor, and you had to suppress the urge to squeeze your thighs, unless you wanted their observant eye to notice. You avert your gaze from the handsome sight to hide your flustered expression. Unfortunately, your efforts are in vain when in the corner of your eye, the ends of their frown twitch. 

They instruct you to sit at the chair across from theirs with the motion of their eyes, and you take your seat at their desk, two plates of food sitting on the wooden surface. 

“You have no issue with shellfish, do you?” Arlecchino inquires, their eyes scanning over your figure for any objections. 

“Not that I know of, sir,” you answer. The mafia leader pushes a glass with a crimson liquid in it–wine, you presume. You take it. Arlecchino is an avid wine lover from what you've discerned during past dinners; although you've done this quite a few times, the thought is dizzying of how you're holding a wine that's more than likely a thousand dollars per bottle. Like with all the previous privileges the Harbinger gifted you, this is yet again another lucrative item. It only makes you wonder to what extent the Fatui's influence goes to be able to afford such expenses on ordinary things. You swirl the drink in your hand before taking a tentative sip. Each time you drink, it’s akin to dumping gold into the sea–wasted extravagance on the likes of you. 

The wine sours the taste in your mouth but you don't make it apparent. 

Dinner remains an awkward constant, nearly unnerving. You tether between the line of being cautious and being casual. Their methodical brutalism discourages small talk from them–given the fact that they favor intention and meaningful gestures–seeming perfectly content in the silence while you stew in chagrin. With this comes their manner of eating. They eat robotically, as if the gourmet foreign meals are nothing but nourishment, and perhaps such trivialities are of no matter to them, only further emphasizing the stark statuses of you two. Their request, however, made them seem almost eager–as eager as one could possibly be for someone so stoic– given how they requested for your presence as soon as possible. Perhaps what they look most earnestly for is observing you. You're torn between thinking they enjoy your discomfort underneath their gaze, or simply find you that fascinating. Either of them escape common reasoning. 

You opt to just eat with your head down to avoid their piercing gaze throughout your meal, the only noise filling the room is the clinking of metal utensils. Struggling with removing the lobster meat from its tail, you fumble with the fork, an abashment swelling in your cheeks with the knowledge that Arlecchino was most definitely observing your tactlessness. You’ve never had shellfish prior to your stay with Arlecchino, and that was more pronounced by your lackluster attempts of stripping the shrimp shell. You attempted to learn through observation of Arlecchino, who utilizes cutlery with their typical efficiency and gracefulness. Even in the simple act of eating, they are refined in their precise and minimal movements. Unfortunately for you, that poise cannot be obtained through just viewing. 

A pale hand extends and rests on top of your hand holding the fork, the sudden contact ripping you from your thoughts and your shoulders tense. Glancing up from the shellfish, Arlecchino's ever so puncturing gaze is set on you. The thumping organ in your chest pauses for a beat once your eyes lock, manifesting a silence between the two of you. There is not a hint of irritance in their expression, and perhaps you are mistaken, but there is the gleam of amusement in their pupils. 

“Allow me,” they finally voice, their tone on the edge of venomous allure, and you could only comply immediately. Placing down the cutlery onto the plate and pulling your hands away, you expect for them to pick up the silverware again. Instead, they firmly hold down the lobster tail with one hand, the other hand pinching the succulent flesh before shredding it effortlessly from the shell with their. Such an uncouth movement that almost seems unfitting from the Harbinger, however, simultaneously, you cannot see their crude method out of place. The chunk of meat is then dipped in the aioli. 

“Open,” Arlecchino commands, and you swallow thickly, your mouth inexplicably arid in a single moment. Once again, your easily influenced heart pounds resoundingly in your ears, no doubt induced by the most miniscule of moments from the Harbinger. Their red-crossed pupils stab into you, expectancy in them, wordlessly urging you. You open your mouth and they lift the piece of lobster to your lips, sliding their fingers and the shellfish flesh inside. You clamp down on the flesh while Arlecchino fishes out her digits, pulling away with glistening liquid on the tips of her index and thumb. 

The sight makes your stomach flutter with a sensation unlike any other, an inferno emerges in your pit paired with an indisputable throbbing between your legs that makes you clench your hands into fists–a desperate attempt for restraint of your impulses. Cheeks flared from both arousal and humiliation of your indecent thoughts, you mindlessly chew on the meat, absentmindedly staring at the Harbinger while combating the vulgarity within your mind. Your liberated imagination reacts, substituting the fluid for something of a similar look that originates from a different orifice, before you banish the impurities away, remediate your thrashing heart before it threatens to collapse in itself. Finally, you swallow a bit of shellfish down your throat. 

Arlecchino hums, satisfied, before they probe your lips with their slick fingers, intent, almost predatory, gaze upon you, and their pupils glint with a faint crimson. 

“Clean them,” they order, and oh, if they knew what those two words do to you. Hot spikes of arousal pricks you everywhere in your body, and your loins grow damper, pulsing with need. 

You part your lips obediently as they insert two of their fingers. Your warm, moist mouth wraps around them. The pads of their fingers press firmly against your tongue, and compliantly, you drag the slimy surface of your organ on the undersides, lapping at the faint taste of lobster with remnants of the aioli, before swirling your tongue around to coat the entirety with your saliva. A disgusting moist squelch flees from your mouth as you continue the ministrations of your tongue, gentle and deliberate traces to make sure that their fingers are properly cleansed. 

A sudden idea comes to you, a dose of boldness injected into your veins as you continue locking their eyes with them. If they are so amused by your performance, then surely they would enjoy a little show? You silently wish for the mafia leader's grace before you act– perhaps you'd be forgiven? Better yet, you hope that you will be rewarded. They're acutely aware of the mischief in your eyes when their eyebrows lift, but you do not allow them to anticipate for long. 

You hollow your cheeks and suction around their fingers while intensifying your tongue's movements. To add to it, you lean forward, slipping their fingers deeper until your lips reach the base of their final knuckle, nearly gagging from your impulsive action. Still, it does not dissuade you, and you continue your behavior, aware this very gesture was the epitome of playing with fire. More slick sounds erupt from your suggestive acts. 

You scrutinize their facial expression for their reaction in an attempt to gauge their response, and quite notably, their pupils are darkened. Instead of the previous ruby hue, they are now a deep scarlet, bordering on maroon, and are brimming with an emotion so intense you feel as though you could be devoured whole just by their dark abysses. Their usually maintained and composed face is cracked by the parted lips of theirs, as if they were in awe of your impudence, and the slightest knit in between their brows, implying more than their regular apathy. You have drawn their attention just as you wanted, but now you fear the consequences. 

“Feeling bold, are we, doll?” They murmur in a low, tantalizing purr as they extract their fingers from you with a wet pop, and you nearly whine from the loss of contact. A dribble of spit escapes from the corner of your lips and they wipe it away with their thumb. Their middle and index finger gleam enticingly as your slaver drips down. Bringing their hand to their lips, they reward you with their own show, a slow deliberate act of tracing their fingers with their own tongue, their attention still fixated on you throughout its entirety. Watching the organ's motions further stirs the boiling desire in your groin. The Harbinger never fails to tempt you, provoking a visceral reaction from you with just the minutest gesture. 

They must know. They must know how deeply influenced you are by them. You make your allure to them unmistakable, their actions signify their awareness, and they use this to further taunt you, to further bait you into their trap. For what reason, you're not privy to, but they prey upon your desire for them, stringing you along on for their entertainment. Are they aware that this game is comparable to torture to you? Like dangling fresh greens in front of a dying, starved lamb, your ache is palpable to only you. To long for something that you cannot. It is tormenting and demeaning, though maybe that is suitable for a monster. 

A devil in the guise of an angel truly. Maybe they are purely enjoying your suffering, knowing that your every action can only be done by their whim. You have fallen in their hands, utterly dependent and reliant on them but no less grateful. A deceived sheep in the claws of a cackling wolf. It is a game to them, you are just a toy, and you would be foolish to think otherwise. So expectedly cruel, and yet it crushes your heart. You are tired of the charades, of your affections hardly acknowledged and no doubt unreciprocated, and you are tired of how their presence plagues your thoughts entirely. They are eager to use you just as they had always wanted, a ‘doll,’ something willing to twist and bend to their desires. 

You wish that you are more than just a doll. That your skin is not made of plastic, that your limbs are not so manipulatable, that the attire that you wear cannot be so easily altered based on the spontaneous desires of someone else. You do not want to take only what you've been given. Is it hopeless, brazen, to want more despite your place? Does it make you nothing more than simple-minded and naive, to wish that their touch expressed beyond the voraciousness and obscenity? 

“Did you enjoy it?” Arlecchino pries you away from your thoughts, and you flick your eyes towards them. Blinking, you finally recall the context, and fumble with your words.

“Ah, uh, yes,” you stammer, forcing a small smile, berating yourself for your blundering response. “The lobster was great. Thank you so much, Sir.”

Their pupils still remain on you, hardened with their usual frigid gaze. “Then why do you appear so downcast? Is the meal not to your liking? I will make sure the chefs prepare something else for you.” 

Your blood freezes and you go wide-eyed. Of course, they would notice your absent-mindedness, you have still yet controlled your emotions. Reprimanding yourself internally, the desire to scream out boils within you, like a pot that threatens to boil over–you want to exclaim that they are the reason you are like this, why you are in a constant state of conflict and anguish, why your heart can never rest when their presence is near. Instead, you find your throat caught in a trap, preventing any words from escaping, and any voice you try to grapple slips through your fingers. The very notion of requesting for more is insolent; had they not provided you enough? Ingrate is what you would be if you vocalize anything. 

Shaking your head, you reply with, “No, it's okay. There was nothing wrong with my meal. I was just preoccupied with my thoughts for a little bit, I apologize, sir.” 

“Please inform me what it was that was entertaining you for so long.” The implore leaves their lips as they tilt their head, propping their elbow against the table and leaning their cheek into their palm. Their attention is utterly consumed by you. 

Your lip quivers. So many unspokens lay on your tongue, awaiting for an emergence that never comes. ‘You’ is the most dire utterance, but you bite your tongue and purse your lips. Flitting your eyes down to your finished plate, you avoid their boring gaze which drills right through your skull, and manage to note your arms, which are dotted with the occasional burn scar–courtesy of the more unsavory customers–an agonizing momento of how filthy you are, sullied by many before. How you could compare to a doll is unfathomable to you. A doll's skin is not tainted, marked with signs of impurities. Even their touch, as angelic as it, could not cleanse your surface, why would they dare engage with you? 

“Trivial matters, sir,” you respond with, unable to admit the snaking insecurity up your spine, that would only have them throw you away. You gather that insecurity had no place in the Harbinger's home, that needless feelings were to be disposed of immediately. Searching their features at any hint of persuasion, their blank stare offers nothing to you. The mafia leader picks up their glass of wine, lifting it up to their lips for a sip. 

The, the glass is placed firmly on the wooden surface of the table, accompanied by a loud thud, the abruptness causing you to flinch back; your entire form taut as every fiber in your being tightens, your heart rate reverberates in your eardrums, and a cold shiver sneaks over your back. 

“Do you take me as someone so easily deceived?” They demanded, their voice instilled with cutting authority, sharper than any knife as it stabs into your gut. The lit fury in their eyes is enough to make you recoil in your seat, shrinking into yourself as if you could become small enough to disappear, and underneath their scrutiny that is all you want to do. You tore your eyes away from them, the weight of their burning stare unbearable, almost with the intention of cremating you in the very chair. A part of you wishes that were the case, if only to flee from the crisis you are now a part of, only caused by your idiocy. 

The Fatui Harbinger, for how generous they've been to you, is no less deadly, and perhaps you’ve had a healthy dosage of dismissing apparent hazards when it comes to them. Whether it be due to Arlecchino's unique charm and ambiguous benevolence, or your stubborn child-like innocence–the one that still yearns for affection and company in a cruel world–that refuses to yield, subconsciously, you knew that you would never truly be safe. No amount of self-delusion masked by wishful thinking could ever make that fruition, it will not erase the fact that your life balances on the careful palms of an awaiting wolf, whose intentions are mysterious. Nonetheless, this moment creates a no more nauseating moment that strikes your gut and fills your head with a haziness that is as oppressive as it is harrowing.

You hardly believe that you can lie once more–for all that you are aware of, Arlecchino may punish you with your death for disobeying–though with the imminent danger you’re still conflicted. You wanted to drown your fondness for them in the sea of your consciousness, anchor the hefty mass so that it could never resurface, no matter how much it struggles to swim. Complying with the mafia leader's demand means plunging your hands into the water and unlocking the chains, letting the emotions swim beyond your reach and leaving you stranded in the midst of riptides and storms. If it meant many more years without turbulent waters, then you'd never unchain them, because that is the only way to stay afloat. 

But dying due to the fear of rejection is truly a pathetic way to go, even to the likes of your already pathetic existence, isn't it? You’d like to pride yourself as above those standards, at the very least. However, unveiling your naive attachment to them is unfavorable. Whatever may come from defiance, you are not sure it is worth condemning yourself to, not for someone seemingly as volatile as they are. 

Perhaps you could still spare your buried endearment as well–twist and mangle your words until what the Fourth Harbinger knew was only the mishap-twin of the authentic version. Let them misinterpret and craft their own figment to be as far-fetched yet close from the truth as possible. Paint over and ornament your hopeless ardor until it is unrecognizable to the artist and only that. Half-truths and omission sculpted into something believable in the eyes of Arlecchino. 

“You,” you declare simply, looking up back at them with a poor imitation of their repose. “It was you, Sir.” 

Arlecchino stews in silence, although not visibly, you could presume that they have some amount of shock from your words, and the questions in their head. Their eyes darkened slightly, like dark abysses preparing to consume you whole if you so much as misstep once.

“For what reason?” 

Gulping considerably, you pull together your resolve and start. You look up to meet their steady gaze. “A quality doll requires proper care and maintenance right? Like when you said that a quality doll needed a fitting dollhouse.” 

Their hand reaches for their wine glass again.“Yes, that is true.”

“But a quality doll is wasted if it is not played with properly.”

Arlecchino breaks away their stare to intake their wine, a longer sip than their usual. “Are you implying that you are not satisfied with my treatment, Doll?” 

“No. No, I am not satisfied.” You wince at your direct response, but you are not left with any other option–you can only pray that Arlecchino doesn’t take offense to it.

“Greedy,” the Harbinger remarks as they place down the drink. “But perhaps there is some merit to it. You are right: It is my responsibility to take care of my things and it seems that I've been neglecting you.”

They flit their eyes to your plate. “Are you finished eating?” 

“Ah, yes?” You stumble over your words, a bit on edge now that their inquiry implied they had more in plan with you. It is not out of the question, though typically when they did invite you to meals like this, they would dismiss you to do what you wish afterwards, sending you away with a drawn out kiss. You're yet able to know what to make of your current situation. It required little words to gain what you wanted from the Haringer: more attentive treatment from them without the implication of your desires, so easily accepted by them. Maybe then, you wishfully 

They rise from their chair, removing their reading glasses and setting it on the surface of the desk. Strangely enough, they take their wine with them. 

“Sir?” You question as your eyes follow their movement. They maneuver around their desk, heading towards the door. 

“Follow,” they state, though there is no real urgency or demand for it, more like a suggestion. They turn their head over their shoulder, examining you–testing you, you guess–and how could you deny? You trial them after them, with an enthusiasm which you hate having to compare that to an anxious puppy. The two of you exit the office, and you’re guided to an adjacent room, this one you've never been to before, nor has ever seen its content. Since your time here, it's remained secured and you've yet seen a single soul enter. 

You're not quite sure what you expect when Arlecchino leads you inside but it certainly is not a bedroom. Nonetheless, that is what is presented to you. Simultaneously sleek and modest, adorned in splashes of black, red, and white–a color palette you associate with just one individual–it is the epitome of sophistication without bordering on extravagance and a starking reminder of the presence beside you.

For some reason, it never occurred to you that Arlecchino necessitated slumber. Perhaps since you've always considered them something else entirely, something beyond human, you feel what borders on astonishment with the discovery that, indeed, the Fourth Harbinger does sleep. To say that it humanized them in your eyes is a stretch, but it is a signifier that they are not as infallible and unfeasible as you believe. 

The implications of being guided to their bedroom, however, also creates havoc among your thoughts, and your ears all but physically singe from your mortification. Vulgar fantasies invade your mind, with images of your nude body tangled together in the satin gray sheets with varying positions. Your heart, the fickle and persistent thing that is pulipates again, pumping through your ears. The setting only enforces your wanton imagination, exacerbating its control over your mind. The delusions become not just visual, but auditory and haptic too–their whispered, husky voice murmuring sweet promises in your ear as their nails trail lower and lower from your stomach, their fingers exploring uncharted territory.

Choosing that the best course of action would be to ignore the astir depravities, you instead propose a question to the mafia member as they allow you to enter the chamber first. 

“This is… your bedroom, my Lord?” you question anxiously, taking the time to observe the room as the Fourth Harbinger enters behind you. “How come you've brought me here?” 

“I am not fond of letting blunders remain as it is for long, less of all those that are my own fault,” Arlecchino answers, the shutting of the door momentarily interrupting them. “If it can be helped, oversights must be corrected immediately. Let problems fester for too long, and they may grow beyond my control.” 

You note that it's a rather vague response. As you turn around to further confront them, there is the sudden and firm tug of your arm, and far quicker than your mind can comprehend, you're whirled around and pressed against the surface behind you. You suck in harshly from the rapid movement and an arm besides one side of your head locks you in your place, sandwiched between the door and Arlecchino with no exit available. 

Flaring crimson irises meet your vision, inky pits brimming with what could only be described as a fervor drill into you. Wildly, your heartbeat thuds against your ribcage, your breath effectively robbed by the towering being before you. Below your skin, exhilaration floods through your veins, spreading the incessant heat through your entire form, most especially to your loins. Their hot breath skims across your inflamed cheeks, and their lips only stray a few centimeters from yours. 

Involuntarily, your focus darts to their enticing mouth, which tastes like the finest of wine–so extraordinarily sweet that it is intoxicating. A flavor that keeps drawing you in, making you an alcoholic as you drink yourself dizzy from a sip, then another. And you would do anything for just another sample. You want Arlecchino to consume your entirety, your taste buds, your consciousness, your senses, surrender every part of you if it means gaining the most miniscule pieces of themselves. A plea rests on your tongue and in your wide, crinkled eyes you make your intentions clear. 

Wordlessly, you beg for them to devour you like the monster that they are. Lure you in with their touch again, which they know burns every single rational thought away and spreads a relish that feels like a religious blessing. Take you, if only for a single second, because a second will always be sufficient enough until the next, when you cannot help but wish for it sooner. 

“Do you desire me?” They speak, as if the answer is not apparent. As if the evidence is not in your trembling body, bristling with elation, or in your needy hands, which all but reach out to grasp them closer. As if they are not aware of the effects of their numerous taunts, how they fluster you enough to force you to glance away or stumble over your speech. They are aware of it as well as you are and it is with this that you realize the insinuation of their question, and this understanding is what evokes the hitching of your breath. They ask for confirmation, for approval–for consent. 

“Yes,” you answer breathlessly, no need to expend more words for something so simple. How else could you answer otherwise? 

Arlecchino does not grant you the kiss you so very much desire. Instead, they maneuver one of the arms propped against your head, their hand cups your chin with a tenderness so unlike them, and their thumb grazes over your bottom lip. Their gaze becomes entranced, fixated on your mouth. 

“Given your past employment, I was under the assumption that any gesture more sensual would unease you. For that reason, I was hesitant to initiate more. After all, nothing is more unpleasant than an unwilling toy, who does not desire to be played with. My oversight, however, has affected you adversely, which I hope to fix currently.”

Flicking their hardened stare to your eyes again, they add, “If you will allow me.” 

Stupefaction befalls upon you, your mouth parts as you grasp onto the new information. If their words are true, then it means that your attraction to them is mutual, not one-sided, and their established distance was out of consideration for you. The thought is more than enough to spark giddiness within you. The Harbinger may not be so inaccessible as you previously thought, perhaps your affections could reach them. 

They hardly seem so monstrous as they did three weeks ago. Maybe they never were one to begin with. Your elated-addled brain can hardly produce a coherent string of thoughts, leaving you to only feebly nod. 

That is enough as a response for Arlecchino as they descend upon you, slotting their lips over yours in a way that can only be described as perfection. Their lips drains you of your oxygen, but were you capable of it, you would allow them to steal every part of you with their perfect mouth. The succulent flavor of them remains constant, delectable as they were on the first night you met the Harbinger, and even after the numerous kisses you've shared, they are just as intoxicating. You briefly wonder if you're only drunk off of their taste because of the taste of aged wine still abundant on their lips. Arlecchino swallows you up into an eternal riptide of their taste, and you willingly drown, surrendering the rest of your senses to delight in this. 

This is the type of sensation that comes from dancing around a demon, the sort of feeling that makes such heartache involving the fallen angel all the more worthwhile yet agonizing; it serves to only lure you further in its trap that you can't fathom escaping from. Now, your body buzzing with an elation that can't be matched by another, all you can wonder is how you've been able to live this long without this very gesture that breathes back life through your veins and makes your heart swell with vitality. With this, you believe this is the pinnacle of your life–no other experience that can quite enrapture you like this–a phantom ache finally filled, finally whole. 

Half-lidded eyes with crimson x's lock on yours, and you think you may have rediscovered your favorite color. 

You lift your arms over their shoulders and fold them behind the mafia leader, locking them in place. With a gentle tug forward with your arms, they lean deeper into your kiss, and a deep grunt rumbles through their chest, inducing goosebumps over your skin. Meanwhile, your fingers card through their silky, snow-colored strands, tugging lightly as you moan softly against their lips. Something warm settles on your right cheek, cupping that side of your face delicately. 

The rough texture of their tongue presses against your lips, before their lips latch onto your bottom one. They suckle with such a gingerness you forget about the depraved hunger behind their x-pupils, a plea for permission, for entry which you allow instantly. You part your mouth. With a fevered haste, their tongue slips into your orifice, and you let out a throaty groan. It invokes a rumbling through their throat, a sound that must have belonged from seraphs. They urge on, exploring the contours of your mouth with the intent of diligently memorizing the relish and texture. Committed to familiarizing themselves with every crevice and curve, they scrape their tongue against yours, before prodding gently deeper, grazing the roof of your mouth. 

In turn, you playfully drive your tongue forward, caressing against the bottom of their flexible organ. A pleased hum resounds through them, the reverberation making you shudder delightfully. Your body feels like it's being swarmed with an oppressive heat, willpower and sanity suffocating under the mafia leader's every action, and every thought replaced with the stabbing desire that courses through your veins. Every second that they linger, an invisible string tugs you towards their direction with the lightest pressure, and you’re once more in their neatly filed claws. 

Is it really sending a lamb to the slaughter when the lamb is willing, or when the wolf is so inviting? 

The lack of swelter is palpable once they suddenly break away, and you realize belatedly the lack of air in your lungs. You heave for air, and Arlecchino does the same, every brief exhale tickling your cheeks. Silence, save for your rapid breathing, fills the room, but the mutual eye contact says more than enough between you two. 

“Do you want to…?” The Harbinger inquires, their words halting into a tense silence, vigilantly examining your features. 

“Please,” is all you could whisper out, as if that very word carried your entire soul with it, and the singular murmur shatters the being before you. Just a second ago, what stood before you was a person of authority and restraint. Arlecchino was esteemed among the Harbingers, a mortal representation of poise and dignity. Never before has their composure faltered, not to any enemy or ally; there’s yet been an instance that the mafia’s leader's repose was weakened. However, you have always been an anomaly. 

Her crimson pupils pierce into you, as their hands linger beneath your hips. 

“You truly will be the death of me.”

---

Reference for Arlecchino in the second half.

Smut will be in part 3.

[seventh-district]

i’m not like other girls, my “Rest” stats are a heart rate of 110bpm and a HRV of 14 fucking milliseconds. :)

[2knightt]

could u write the gang (seperate) x a reader thats like. deeply and unashamedly obsessed w them

not in in a weird way but like soda makes reader a cake and theyre like “wow ur so talented u should be a baker youd be the best baker in the world everyone look at this isnt my bf such a good baker?? isnt he so cool???? arent you so jealous of me???”

or they visit the DX on steves lunch break and theyre like whats all this? and steve starts explaining the car stuff to them and theyre like “omg ur so smart ur the smartest person ever the DX is so lucky to have you <333 soda come look at steves car isnt he so good at this??? babe u should like reinvent cars youd totally do it better than washington or whatever”

or just reader holding hands and sitting on laps and kissing faces at all times basically the gang x reader thats all over them

「 i just wanna get high with my lover! 」

IN WHICH—you’re totally in love with them!♡ ໋֢ 🎞️✧

📀ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 🕯️ notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ i’m Finally working on reqs. WHO CHEERED???? also new theme for fics. got bored of my old ones😜

Dallas Winston ;

“you’re so strong, dal. you look so good when you fight, did you know that? you’re like the only person who looks that good when fighting. you’re so cool.”

“…thanks, doll.”

was SO STARTLED LMFAO

like??? he’s never been showered in compliments like this before. but he DOES welcome it

cocky bastard. you boosted his ego. it’s too high now.

“i stole this for you.”

“DALLAS! you didn’t have too, oh my god! you’re so sweet—and talented! i can’t believe you stole this—for me! i have the best boyfriend ever! i am so lucky, ain’t i?”

“yeah, i know.”

SHOWS U OFF SO MUCH. he just likes the reaction you give him when he does, honestly. like dallas LOVES hearing you ramble about him when he’s beside you.

he’s all, “yup. i AM the best boyfriend ever, dickhead.”

“this my partner.”

“mhm! dally’s the sweetest ever! he’s so nice to me, don’t you think? ugh, i love him so much. he’s the best boyfriend in the world.”

the way you look at him with lovesick eyes makes him wanna hold you forever and never let go btw.

IF YOU SIT ON HIS LAP AND DO THAT??? ohmy fod he’ll lose his fucking mind!!!

dallas winston looking up at you while you cradle him between your legs, his hands gently holding your waist while you gush over him, a small pink hue across his cheeks.

AHHHH AHHHHH AHHHHHH

“you’re so handsome. you’re the prettiest boy ever. i love your hair, it’s so nice. with or without the grease.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

has the most DISGUSTING and GROSS lovey dovey smile across his face has you plant kissed across his face, mumbling sweet nothings as you do so.

feels like you’re an angel when you do this after a bad day btw. loves you sososososo much he’s so down bad

Johnny Cade ;

looks up at you with the biggest puppy dogs eyes you’ve ever seen as you sit on his lap, kissing his scars. johnny’s lips would be slightly parted as he seems mesmerized with every movement you make.

WHIPPED. HE IS WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER. the SECOND you started gushing over, he got a small grin on his face, a sense of pride washing over him.

he, like, never knew you seen him as this magnificent being. johnny’s confidence was never great but PHEWWW you’re always there to help him!!!

“you really like my scars?”

“totally. they make you look so cute, johnny. they make you, you and that’s all i could ever ask for. you’re so cute. i love you. any person would, i’m just so glad that it’s me.”

he’d get so shy after but johnny would be walking with his chin slightly higher. ‘cause deep down he’s all, “what if they don’t actually mean it☹️?” and then you show up outta nowhere and like engulf him with a hug and he’s like “nvm…i love ‘em actually☺️.”

whenever you brag about him to people, he has to look at his feet to keep himself from smiling too much.

“and if you ever need someone to listen to you, nobody does it like johnny! he’s the best listener ever, nobody can ever compare to him. johnny’s such an angel!”

“y/n…”

he’d mumble, an embarrassed groan leaving his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck, kicking a rock.

contrary to popular belief of you being more in love, he is. he swears up and down that you’re too good to him, that you’re a real doll, that he doesn’t deserve someone like you.

johnny needs someone like this in his life NOW! and if it isn’t you it’s gonna be me.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

so fucking embarrassed i’m crying.

i believe he can’t take compliments for SHIT. so being around you, he just becomes a mess. like stuttering n’ shit.

“your voice is so pretty. you read so much better than everyone else, pony. you should do it as a job—you’d totally beat everyone. it’s not like it’d ever be a competition with you there, though. you’re so cool, pony.”

“i-uhm…thank you, y/n.”

GIGGLES SOO HARD LMFAOOOO

like at night when he’s with soda, he just rambles to his older brother about what you told him. soda thinks it’s cute in the moment, but later wants ponyboy to shut up because it’s been two hours of him gushing over what you said to him.

“and then they said that i-“

“OKAY, DAMN. i have work tomorrow and you have school. ponyboy, please.”

“…okay? they said that i was the prettiest boy they’ve ever seen.”

“holy fuck.”

like he’d be ranting about some drama with the gang or some movie he’d seen, sitting on the couch as you rest your head on his shoulder.

you look over to him, thinking he’s never looked more perfect. ponyboy had washed the grease out of his hair, the fluffy hair falling over his ears.

unconsciously, you tuned him out as you leaned over, kissing him on the cheek.

“what was that for?”

“you tell stories so well, pony. you’d make a great writer, did you know that? i’m so lucky to have you.”

“i-huh?”

WAHHH COMPLIMENTING PONYBOY WHILE ATTACKING HID FACE WITH KISSES AS HE GIGGLES ☹️☹️☹️

he’s so cute thay’s literally my man….!!!!

Sodapop Curtis ;

HE’S SO IN LOVE!!!!!

sitting on the counter while he cooks and you just rant about how perfect he is makes him WEAK IN THE KNEES.

“you’re such a good baker, soda. nobody does it like you do. you’re like—the best baker in the world. ain’t he, two-bit?”

“stop it, y/n..🤭🤭”

“nah, ‘m good.”

you brag about him to the girls that go to the DX to flirt with him. i can see it now.

soda’s just in the background giggling SOO HARD AND TWEAKING WITH STEVE LMFAOO

“no, he’s so sweet to me! i swear, he’s like the best boyfriend ever, did you know that? i’d be jealous if i was you, honestly.”

“TEEHEE”

“soda, shut up!”

“i’m the best boyfriend ever, steve😛.”

HE DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU IT’S SO CUTEEE😭😭

“you look so cute today, y/n. i got so lucky, didn’t i? had to be blessed to even have you in my life.”

FUCK i need this man at my doorstep

like imagine sitting on his lap, him staring up at you while you push back his hair with a small smile on his face. the silence between the two of you being broken by exchanged compliments.

YOU TWO MAKE EVERYONE FUCKIJG SICK I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT!!! YOU GUYS ARE SO PERFECT TOGETHER IT MAKES ME VOMIT!!!

Darry Curtis ;

tries to act cool and nonchalant when you do it, but he turns his head away to cover the huge smile that’s growing on his face.

“you’re so strong, dare! you’re the strongest person ever—you could totally take down anyone. isn’t he just the best, soda?”

“alright, that’s enough, y/n.”

“but you’re just so good to me, dare. :(.”

“sweetheart, please.”

“alright..”

“he’s smiling, y/n.”

“and blushin’…i love your brother so much.”

“everyone knows.”

AKDNSKDHEKENKDS SITTING ON HIS LAP WHILE HE SITS ON HIS CHAIR, READING THE NEWS PAPER🤭🤭

like your arms are wrapped around his neck, his arms around your waist as he reads the newspaper over your shoulder while lazily responding to your rambles.

“you look so cute with your reading glasses. you’re the most handsome boyfriend in the whole world. i’m so lucky, ain’t i?”

“you’re a real treat, y/n.”

—

“i love your hair, darry. you look so much better with this hairstyle than anyone else. you should be a model.”

“i’d be a terrible model, dear.”

gang is so jealous of your relationship btw. they call it bullshit that darry pulled you.

they fake gag and groan when you do this but in reality they’re like, ‘damn…when is it my turn to be happy.😒’

darry’s self esteem’s alright. it’s not the best but it’s not the worst. but you’re always there to remind him he’s absolutely perfect :).

Steve Randle ;

HE’S SOOOO WHIPPED LMFAOOOO

like i swear to god the second you went on a rant about him he was so ready to marry you right then and there.

“you’re so good when it comes to cars. honestly—you could just make your own and it’d be 100x better than whoever made them before. you’re just the best mechanic ever.”

“really? you think so? ‘cause if i were ever to i’d totally change the way they-“

and now steve’s on a 12 minute rant on how he’d change cars to rub better while you just sit there, listening to him with a smile.

YOU HAVE HIM SOOOO INSANE LIKE I SWEAR TO GOD!?? he couldn’t ask for a better partner if he tried!!!

like, i imagine steve’s always had confidence issues—being friends with soda n all don’t really help.

BUT THEN YOU CAME ALONG AND HE’S JUST VISIBLY HAPPIER😭😭.

“you’re so smart, steve. like—the smartest ever.”

“stawpp, oh my god. what else am i, though?”

“you’re cute, awfully nice, you got the prettiest eyes the world’s ever seen-“

please tell him all this while kissing him all over. he needs it so bad.

teehee lazily kissing steve randles face as the blush across his face grows from the never ending compliments that leave your lips😜

he’d totally tell you to shut up and when you don’t, he just kiss you.

AUGHHHH

Two-Bit Mathews ;

AUGH HE DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU !!!!

honestly—he didn’t like it at first. ‘cause deep down he was all, ‘wtf??? i’m supposed to be making them swoon n’ shit??? why am i the one giggling rn??😒😡’

but overtime he’d look forward to your silly little love drunk rambles. tell him he’s the most thoughtful boyfriend ever when he’s drunk and he might cry.

“YOU REALLY THINK THAT? BABY, STA-“

and he’s like actually sobbing while hugging you.

sitting on two-bit’s lap in the backseat of his car at the drive-in, ignoring the movie you guys came to watch because you’re both too focused on each other.

kissing every inch of his face, laughs leaving his lips as you mutter small comments about how cute his laugh is. unconsciously, his grip on your hips tightening.

FUCK i’m making myself feel lonely writing this.

every single good thing you say about him gets internalized. someone could say his hair’s dumb but then in his head he goes ‘NUH-UH! y/n said my hair is absolutely perfect😜’

[lewisvinga]

sorry not sorry | daniel ricciardo x fem! reader

summary; daniel and y/n were just friends, that’s it, although everyone else around them wanted for them to be more. but one drunken night lead to y/n posting some questionable things to her story.

fc; christina nadin

warnings; mentions of drinking , suggestive comment

note; requested !

taglist; @namgification

masterlist !

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, and others

yourusername: before n after danny said no to chicken tenders

tagged; danielricciardo

danielricciardo: it’s because you need to expand your tastebuds, sunshine

yourusername: i just wanted some chicken tenders, danny☹️☹️

danielricciardo: stop pouting at my from the other side of the room

danielricciardo: fine i’ll get you chicken tenders, sunshine

yourusername: thank u danny 💗💗💗

username: i love them sm

username: they HAVE to be dating

username: LMFAOO

username: i love them so much😭😭

landonorris: you have the tastebuds as a child

yourusername: a lot of talking for a man who gags at sushi and steals my chicken tenders everytime we hang out…

username: i need the grid to try to set them up bc they have to be in love or something

username: ppl when a guy and girl are friends: 🤯

yourusername uploaded to their story!

[caption 1; party rocking 🤪] [caption 2; i Love danny Sooooolmuch his face is SooO stupidly cute I wanna kiss him] [caption 3; he’s so Sexy i want him to be my boyfriend Now.]

these posts have been deleted!

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and others

danielricciardo: my ☀️, now n forever.

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: sorry not sorry 4 posting abt how sexy u are on my story

danielricciardo: but ur sexier

yourusername: have u seen u post workout? that is very sexy 😌

danielricciardo: no but i have seen you in my bed post… and that’s very sexy😉

landonorris: THERE ARE CHILDREN PRESENT

yourusername: love u stupid, 4ever n ever 🥹🥹💗💗

danielricciardo: love u weirdo, n ur weird chicken tender obsession 4ever and ever 😌😌❤️

username: oh OH

username: good morning to y/niel only

username: the way they were absolutely silent for like a month after y/n’s stories just for daniel to randomly hard launch on a tuesday morning

username: they’re so perfect for each other 🥹

username: daniel’s smile w her😩😩🥹🥹🥹

landonorris: why is she eating in almost every picture

yourusername: like you aren’t a beggar who begs for my left overs every time

landonorris: YOU LEAVE LIKE HALF OF THE PLATE BEHIND IT SHOULDNT GO TO WASTE!!!

yourusername: i’m giving yuki my leftover tenders next time

landonorris: NO

[yuzuvrse]

softly, sweetly

daisuke's there for you when you can't sleep.

daisuke (mouthwashing) x fem!reader, comfort/fluff, not exactly canon-compliant

“Daisuke…” You murmur, tapping his shoulder gently, “You awake?” “Hmm…? What is it?” His voice is hoarse, tinged with sleep as he wakes up. “Sorry…” You press your face into his back, his familiar scent washing over you and calming your nerves, but it clearly doesn’t work well enough, because barely a second passes before you’re sniffling. “Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” The man rolls over to face you, his brown eyes flooding with concern. “I…” You look up at him and you don’t even know how to string your jumbled thoughts together into coherent sentences – are you all stuck here forever? Will you ever see your family again? Is this where you're going to die?

You finally settle on a broken “I want to go home…”, your eyes filling with a fresh wave of tears. Now you’re crying freely, desperately burying your face in his chest to muffle your sobs lest you wake the others. “Oh, baby…” The pet name slips past his lips accidentally as he cradles your face in his large hands, thumbs calloused from working under Swansea swiping away at your tears, “Shh… it’s okay, let it out.”

Finally, your sniffles turn to hiccups, and then you fall silent. “We’re going to get home, okay? Swansea’s working on getting the cryopods free, remember? By the time 20 years pass, we’ll be back home!” Daisuke does his best to comfort you, one hand wrapping around your waist to pull you impossibly closer and ground you with his warmth. His lips crack into a playful smile, “By then, you’ll be a granny~” That pulls a laugh out of you, “Shut up, you’re older than me. You’ll be a great-grandpa!” The two of you snicker quietly, shattering the tense silence in the room. The walls are awash in orange and red hues, painting a brilliant sunset on his features – he really is your sun.

Daisuke cups your cheek with one hand, and your eyes flutter shut as you nuzzle into his touch. It makes his breath catch in his throat, the absolute trust you place in him to be this vulnerable even as your life is up in the air – does he even deserve this? His free hand traces the contours of your face, learning every curve and dip and freckle, staring at you as if to commit your visage to memory. “Don’t stare,” you giggle softly as you open your eyes again. “I can’t help it…” His voice is almost breathless, “You’re so pretty.” A soft gasp escapes you, your cheeks heating up at his simple yet genuine compliment. He smiles, and his eyes are filled with adoration as his gaze sweeps over your features; you really are so beautiful. The gentle intimacy makes warmth blossom in your chest, and you envelope his hand with yours, turning your face ever so slightly to press a gentle kiss to his palm. 

“A-ah?!” Daisuke's eyes widen, almost bugging out of his head, but then his expression softens into one so incredibly tender it feels criminal to witness this moment while the ship hangs frozen in space. Can it be right to love someone under such circumstances? Or is it love precisely because it persists despite the circumstances? He presses his lips to the top of your head, resting his chin there as you tuck yourself into the crook of his neck. “I’m glad you’re here, Daisuke,” you whisper, savouring the feeling of your body slotted against his, two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly as the world falls apart around them. “I’m so glad you’re here too,” He kisses the crown of your head once more, drawing circles on your lower back with his free hand, “Now go to sleep, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

“You’ll always be there, won’t you?” 

“I will, baby.”

( He lied. )

kira's notes ; first post on this acc yippee! and also first contribution to the mouthwashing fandom... i am so deeply obsessed w this man and this game it is Insane. my writing skills are vv rusty so plz bear with me while i get back into the swing of things,,, anyways i hope u liked this hehe <3

[luvyeni]

❛TWO PLUS ONE❜ ( l.minho & h.jisung )

p. bestfriend!minsung x fem!reader w. 4.5k+

warnings? threesome, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, mxm moments, alludes to a poly relationship

— 𖦹 ( both you and your boyfriend are crushing on his long time friend, so why not add him ) !

“You ready?” you boyfriend asked, you both were sitting outside the house of one of his best friends, you fixed your lipgloss, turning to him. “You sure this is the right place to meet them, I mean this is your friends celebration party – is now the right time to introduce me to them?”

You and lee know had been dating for about a year, when he decided it was time to meet his friends. “Of course, Felix wouldn’t mind, he’s been the main one asking to meet you, well besides jisung.”

Ah jisung, you’ve heard about jisung more than any of the others — he was your boyfriend's closest friend. “Jisung has been waiting to meet you since we’ve started dating.”

“I promise babydoll, if I didn’t think they didn’t want you here I would have bought you.” He reassured, you nodded. “Okay, let’s go, i’m ready.” He reaches over, giving you a kiss. “Good girl, if you’re good tonight i’ll eat that pretty pussy of yours until you’re begging me to stop.” You smiled, “Deal.”

You guys walk up to the door, his hand resting on your lower back, knocking on the door. “Jisung is gonna love you I swear.” You laugh, “I feel like you just wanted me to meet jisung.” He hummed, “besides you, he’s the most important person in my life.” You nodded, as the door swung open.

“Hyung, you’re here!” A blonde hair fairy opened the door — he was gorgeous, “And this must be y/n?” He held his arms out. “You’re even more gorgeous in person.” He pulled you into a hug. “Be calm Felix, before changbin gets all jealous.” Minho guided you into the house. “Please, he gets jealous over any little thing, i’m used to it.” You laughed. “Sounds like you.” Your boyfriend pinched your side, “Because you’re mine.”

“Just like changbin, mine mine mine, like give it a rest.” He guided you both through the party, to the kitchen. “Well make yourself a home, drinks are self-served, I have to go greet more guest, and make sure changbin isn’t somewhere strangling seungmin.” He excused himself before leave.

After pouring you both some drinks, lee know guided you through the crowds of people, “let’s go find my friends.”

After looking for a few minutes, you seen him smile. “There they are, let’s go.” He held your hand, and you both walked over to the group. “There he is!” The one you knew as chan beamed. “And look who he bought.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to you both, mostly you. “You must be yn?” You nodded, holding your hands out. “Hello.” You smiled, “Oh please, we’ve been waiting forever to meet you, come here.” He pulled you into a hug.

“Baby you know their names; that’s chan — of course you met Felix and that’s changbin, hyunjin and seungmin.” He pointed them out, “And that’s jeongin, our maknae.” He introduced them, you waved. “It’s nice to meet you everyone.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, you’re always the topic of our conversation with minho, so it nice to finally put a face to the name.” You turned to your boyfriend. “Don’t act so smug, you know how obsessed I am with you.”

“Obsess isn’t the word, I haven’t heard him talk about anyone like that before.” Seungmin said, “Well beside jisung.” You hummed. “I’ve heard so much about this jisung, is he here — I would love to finally meet him.” You spoke. “He just went to the bathroom; he should be here soon.”

As if on cue, a boy came jogging over. “The long was so long.” You watched your boyfriends' eyes light up — much how they did with you. “Hannie-ah.” Your boyfriend called. “Hyung, w-when you get here?” He was cute, his chubby cheek, lips in a permanent pout — if you weren’t in a relationship with your boyfriend, he’d definitely be your type.

“A few minutes ago.” Your boyfriend said. “And he bought yn.” His eyes drifted to you — you swore you saw them widen just a bit before returning to normal. “y-yn?”

Jisung didn’t mean to be so surprised — but you really were as gorgeous as minho had said, he seen pictures of his of course, but you are even more beautiful in person. “It’s finally nice to meet you.” You pulled him into hug.

“Oh my god, is this what lino hyungs’ wet dreams look like.” Felix quickly slapped his boyfriend's chest; you laughed pulling away. “Please excuse him, he’s drunk.” You held your hand up. “It’s fine.” You spoke, turning back to jisung. “I understand why he talks and him so much, he’s adorable.” Jisung’s face turned red at the unexpected compliment.

“Wow only jisung could have both the girlfriend and the boyfriend be equally as fond for him.” Jisung coughed awkwardly. “T-thank you.” You nodded, turning to your boyfriend, “I’m gonna go get another drink.”

“I‘ll go get it baby.” You shook your head, “stay and talk to your friends, I can go get my own drink — do you want something.” He shook his head no. “Jisung, you want something?” His eyes cutely widened. “Me?” He pointed to himself. “Yes, you’re the only one without a drink.”

“S-sure, if that’s okay with you.” You nodded. “Coming right up.” You said, untangling your arms from lino. “I’ll come with you; someone here needs some water.” Felix climbed off of changbins’ lap, following behind you, both of holding on to each other as you shuffled away from the group.

“Your girlfriend is amazing, never break up.” Seungmin spoke up, lino sat down on the couch. “She is amazing, the best thing that has happened to me in a while.” Lino eyed jisung who sat on the arm of the couch, who seemed to be in his own world.

“I’m so surprised that you and lino got together.” Felix said, You both stood in the kitchen gossiping. “We all genuinely thought he’d end up with jisung.” You tilted your head in confusion. “Oh my, did you not know he was bisexual?” his eyes widened, slapping his mouth. “I talk to much.” He whined.

You laughed, stopping him, “Of course I know, that was the first thing he told me when we got together.” He sighed in relief, handing you a drink. “But I didn’t know he and jisung used to date.”

“Oh, I don’t think they officially did, but it was so obvious they were more than friends, they were like soulmates.” He said, you nodded along, listening. “They did everything together — still do, well when he’s not with you of course.”

Oddly enough, you weren’t jealous upon hearing this — it was actually cute that your boyfriend had someone like jisung in his life before you — you remember your boyfriend telling you all the stuff they did together in college, and it seem like they had a lot of fun together. “Do you know know why they didn’t end up together.”

Felix shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “I don’t actually, I think they just decided to stay friends.” He explained, “Then he met you.”

You guys made your way back to the group, holding your drinks. “Here you go jisung.” He took the drink from the hand. “Th-thank you.” You nodded, sitting down in lino’s lap. “What took you guys so long?” He pouted, “I missed you.” You kissed his lips. “Just having a chat, learned so much.” You said, your eyes drifting to jisung, who was already staring at you two. You smiled at him, he quickly turned away — looking into his drink like it was important.

“Yeah?” He kissed your neck, you chuckled at his nose tickling you. “Like what?” He smirked. “That’s a secret baby.” You said said. “We don’t have secrets baby you know that.” Felix spoke up, cradling a drunk changbin in his arms, feeding him water. “Ah lino hyung, mind your business.”

“Yah Lee Felix, don’t try and turn my girlfriend on me.” He shouted; you grabbed his cheek. “It was nothing baby I promise.” You kissed him again. “Oh my god you two are so cute.” Hyunjin cooed, you smiled taking another sip of your drink.

The party was ending, people slowly leaving one by one. “I’m glad everyone could make it.” He held changbin up, “And yn it was nice to meet you, you have to get my number from lino so we can get coffee together.” You nodded, standing up.

“You ready baby?” Lino nodded, standing up. “Yeah, just let me go say bye to jisung, he’s talking to chan over there.” He said, “I’ll come with you — it was nice to meet you guys.” You waved, intertwining your hands with lino; both of you walked over to the boy.

Chan excused himself, claiming he had to go work on a song, leaving you both with jisung. “You have a way home jisung?” Lino asked, the boy nodded. “Y-yeah hyung, seungmin is gonna drive me home.”

“It was to meet you yn.” He said, you pulled him into a hug. “You too jisung, I hope we can meet each other again, maybe in a calmer setting.” Lino smiled at the interaction. “S-sure okay.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend. “I’ll call you.” He grabbed the boys' arm, before walking away with you.

The ride back home was short, both of you making small conversation — you told him about all the drama you got from the women at the party, his hand resting on your thigh as he drove.

That all switched up as soon as you stepped foot in the apartment, his lips were on your neck, and you soon found yourself being pressed against the bed as your boyfriend buried his face in your cunt.

“Fu-fuck lino, more.” You moaned grabbing his hair, pushing him deeper into your sopping heat. “Fu-fuck, fuck i’m i’m gonna cum baby.” You screamed. “Fuck! i’m gonna cum!”

Your cunt clenched around his tongue, cumming all over his face. “Shit.” You breathed, coming down from your high. “That felt so good.” He came up from between your legs, kissing your lips. “Told you, I could spend hours eating your pretty pussy.”

“So did you like my friends.” Lino asked, you hummed. “Of course, they’re really nice, especially Felix, he wants to have coffee this week.” Lino nodded, “That’s good, i’m glad you’re getting along with them.”

“And jisung?” He said, “How did you feel about him?” You look up at him. “He’s cute — a little quiet, I wish I could speak to him more.” You said, he smiled. “You and jisung seem to be really close.” You said, rubbing his chest. “Yeah, since college.”

“Have you guys ever done anything together?” You wanted to see if he would lie. “Why do you ask that?” His eyebrow quirked up. “Mmm I don’t know, just a question.” He could tell when you were lying. “Baby, did Felix tell you something?” You smiled cheekily realizing you’d been caught.

“Is that what you guys were talking about? If me and jisung fucked?” You pouted at his crude language. “Don’t say it like that.” He laughed, “We’ll did you?”

“Yeah, we did a few times.” He said, “when?” You questioned. “A few times in college, a couple times before I met you.” He said, smirking. “Why you jealous baby?” you slapped his chest. “That’s you who’s always jealous.” You said.

“Besides, jisung is cute, if we weren’t together i’d definitely fuck him.” That made his cock twitch for some reason. “R-really?” he cleared his throat. “Yes, why would i lie, I would definitely take care of him though.” God that was turning him on hearing you say that.

In all honestly lino often thought about his time with jisung, no he’d never cheat on you — he loved you with all his heart, but jisung, jisung was something special to him. he’d often thought about what it would be like if he was in a relationship with you, but also jisung — waking up with both of you, dates and everything, but he never brought it up, scared you think he was gonna cheat.

“Lino, you okay?” you asked noticing he suddenly went quiet. “Huh?” he said. “I asked were you okay?” He nodded. “I’m fine, just thinking.”

“You wanna fuck jisung?” You asked abruptly, you could see something in his eyes, the way he looked at jisung — it didn’t make you mad, it actually turned you on a bit. “Baby.” You sat up, turning to him. “It’s fine if you do.” His mouth hung open. “Are you saying that just because you want to please me, because mph—” you hushed him up with a kiss.

“I see how you look at jisung, you look at me the same way.” You said, “I think it’s cute, I think you guy’s relationship is cute.” You confessed. “Baby, seems like you have a little crush on jisungie too.” You smiled, shrugging — maybe you did, maybe you just wanted to fuck him, you didn’t know, but you definitely did feel your heart pitter a little when you met the boy.

“He’s cute.” You smiled, “I just want to take care of him I don’t know.” He smiled. “You think he’d be down?” You asked, your boyfriend furrowed his eyes. “Be down to what? Fuck or date us?” He questioned. “Well, I know I definitely want to fuck him, but I would also want to try and date him, if that’s okay with you.”

He felt like he was dreaming, you were quite literally bringing his fantasy to life. “I need you to totally sure you want that, we’re talking about adding someone else into our relationship, I like jisung very much, but if you don’t want to, I won’t force you.” You straddled his lap. “I want to.” You said, “I want to so bad.”

He smiled, grabbing the back of your neck pulling you into a heated kiss. “I’ll talk to him about it.” He toyed with your bottom lip. “I’ll invite him over and we can talk about it together.” He said. “Fantastic.” You beamed. “Now.” You slowly rocked your hips. “I want you to fuck me.”

He flipped you over, hovering above. “Did thinking about fucking jisung make you horny.” You bit your lip, nodding. “Nasty baby, I didn’t even ask him yet and your already soaked for him.” He toyed with your clit. “Please fuck me.” You moaned out.

“Gladly baby.”

“Is he almost here yet?” You asked your boyfriend, he chuckled pulling you into his lap. “Calm down baby, he’s on his way — you’ve never been this excited to see me.” You pouted. “Don’t lie.”

You and your boyfriend took a week to actually think about it and talk it through — this was a big decision, and someone else’s emotions were involved so you wanted to make sure you wanted it for real. “i’m just nervous, what if he doesn’t want to?”

“Should we find someone else then?” You shook your head no. “I want him and you only.” You said, he nodded patting your thigh. “Oh he’s definitely gonna love you, baby.” He kissed your cheek, just as the doorbell rang, making you hop up. “He’s here.” He laughed, tapping your butt. “Calm down, go answer the door.”

You opened the door, revealing the the boy, dressed in a oversized sweatshirt and some cargo pants with a beanie. “O-oh hi yn.” He stuttered. “Is lino hyung here.” He seemed so nervous; it just made you want to wrap your arms and comfort him. “Come in han-ah.” Lino called from the living room. You stepped to the side, letting him in.

You made some snacks, bringing them into the living-room. “Thank you, baby.” You sat down in lap. “No problem.” Jisung shuffled in his seat. “How have you been jisung?” You asked, he sat up straight, you smiled. “O-oh i’be been good.” You nodded, “Have you worked on any songs, lino told me you’re a producer.” He nodded, eyes lightening up. “Yeah a few.”

“That’s cool, maybe one day I could hear a few.” You said, “Really?” He said. “Of course, yn is a music executive at a company, she’s really good at her job.” You smiled at the praise from your boyfriend. “I could help you, give one of your songs to the higher ups of you want.” His eyes widened. “You would?”

“Of course, lino says you’re really talented, if it’s good, they’ll definitely take it.” He smiled; it felt the first time you met lino — yeah you definitely did like him like you liked lino. “Thank you yn, thank you so much.”

You left them to talk freely, going back to your room, to do some work on your computer, while they stayed in the living room. “She’s like a dream isn’t she?” Lino said, jisung nodded. “Sh-she’s really nice, I see why you like her.”

“I told her about us — well Felix did.” Lino said, jisung picked at his fingers. “H-he did, why? The boy questioned. “I don’t know, she wasn’t mad or anything.” The boy sighed of relief. “That’s good, I would hate it if I made her upset or feel jealous.” He spoke.

“In fact, she found it cute.” Lino said, “She didn’t mind at all, I think she might have a little crush on you.” He smirked, watching the boy freeze. “M-me? But she has you.” He said. “I don’t mind it, han-ah you know how I feel about you.”

Jisung shuffled in his seat, why was he telling him this — right before lino announced that he entered a relationship with you, jisung had contemplated if he should confess to the older boy, but atlas, he was too late. Jisung never got over his crush on the boy, but he would never disrespect you like that. “Jisung you know I like you right?”

“H-hyung, you have yn, why are you telling me this.” He said. “Because she likes you too.” He was confused. “Wh-what?”

“She’s been talking about you since the party, it’s cute actually — watching her go on and on.”

“Wh-what does this mean?” He asked, “Well that’s up to you.” Lino responded. “What do you mean, like being in a relationship with you both?” Jisung asked, the older boy shrugged. “If you wanted to.”

This was a lot for the boy to take in, you really like him — and wanted him to be in a relationship with you and lino. “Why me?” He said. “She thinks you’re cute, she doesn’t want anyone else.” Lino said. “Only wants to take care of you sung.” The older boy, got up sitting next to him. “Doesn’t that sound like me, maybe that’s why we work so well.”

Lino put his hand on the boy's thigh. “Both just want to take care of you.” His hand reached higher and higher — jisung gulped, his cock twitched. “I-is she okay with this?” Lino hummed before dipping into the boys' necks, kissing him lightly. “H-hyung.” The boy sighed. “Is this what you want sung? You want us to take care of you?” Lino palmed the boy through his hands, the boy moaned, his cock hardening.

“S-she’s in the room.” He said, “You want go to her?” Lino asked. “S-she’s busy.” Lino laughed. “She’ll stop for this; I know she will.” He pulled away from the boy. “Come on.”

You rubbed your temples, hitting send on the last email you had to send. “Finally.” You sighed — the door opening. “Baby?” Lino said. “You busy?”

“I’m done now, I just sent in the last email.” You said. “See I told you, she isn’t busy, jisung was scared we’d bother you.” Your boyfriend had that look in his eye. “Did he say yes?” You asked, they both walked into the room, jisung was much more reserved. “of course, he did baby, nobody could resist you.”

You turned to jisung, “are you sure you want this jisung?” You sat down next to him. “I really want this to be something we all enjoy, we all know he will.” You point to your boyfriend, who was already laying on the bed. “And I want you feel comfortable.”

He nodded shyly, “I-i do.” You smiled, bringing your hand to his cheek, caressing it, he melted into your touch. “So cute.” You pulled him into a kiss.

Lino watched you two make out at the door of his bed, it was surely a sight — watching you lead jisung, normally it was him who led you during sex, but it was sexy watching you take over — not that he’d ever allow you to do such thing to him.

“That’s enough both of you.” He instructed, you both whined, pulling away from each other. “Look at the both of you, panting and all worked up over a kiss.” He smirked. “Come up here now.” You both climbed up to where he was, you sat on your knees. “Fuck what am I gonna do with both of you?” he felt like a kid in a candy store.

“Take your clothes off.” Both of you were quick to stand up — riding yourself of your clothing, climbing back on the bed. “princess didn’t you say you want to take care of hannie here, how about you wrap your pretty lips around his cock?” You smirked, climbing in between his legs.

“Take out his cock pretty.” You obeyed, reaching for his waistband, pulling them down past his waist, his cock sprung out, hitting his abdomen, dripping with pre-cum. “Such a pretty cock.” You grabbed the base of his cock, kissing his tip. “She gave you a compliment baby boy.” Your cunt clenched at your boyfriends words. “Say thank you.”

“Th-thank you.” He stuttered, “good boy, take him all the way baby, make him feel good.” You relaxed your jaw, allowing his cock to hit the back of your throat. “F-fuck.” Jisung cursed. “F-feels good.”

You bobbed your head up and down, occasionally gagging on his length. “Oh my god.” He gasped, feeling himself about to cum. “You gonna cum?” Lino kissed the boys' neck, “You gotta hold it sung.”Lino knew he could barely hold it, he was aware of how sensitive he was.

You looked up at them through your lashes, the sight made you moan, lino’s mouth against jisung, holding the back of his neck. You took him all the way one last time, before he moaned out, cumming into your mouth, you pulled off of his cock, some of his cum staining your cheeks. “You came so much sungie.”

He moaned, pulling away from lino. “I-i’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cum.” Lino scoffed. “Of course, you did, you’re a needy slut who only loves to cum.” His cock twitched in your hands at your boyfriends' words. “He likes that min.”

“I know baby, I know what both my pretty sluts like.” You felt your panties soaking at his lewd language. “Come here princess.” You climbed into his lap, sitting right on his hard cock. “Want you to ride me.” He slapped your ass. “Take my cock out baby.”

You unbuckled his pants, pulling them off, climbing back into his lap. “Fuck sung, her pussy is throbbing, you’re gonna love it.” He moaned, you took his cock from his underwear, hovering over his pink tip as you stroked it — sinking down. “Fuck min.” you moaned, his cock filling you up. “Such a warm cunt, move for me baby.” You began to slowly move your hips; he threw his head back.

Jisung on the other hand was getting hard again, his cock bobbed against stomach, begging to be touched, you took notice, stopping. “Did I say stop?” You pouted. “But jisung is all alone.” You whined, lino smirked, slapping your ass. “Don’t worry about him, just keep bouncing on my cock.”

Jisung watched your tits bounced up and down as you moved on linos cock, ready to reach for his, when lino grabbed the base of his cock, stroking it. “H-hyung.” He moaned, you clenched on lino’s cock, watching him jerk the boy off in front of you was such a turn on. “Fuck lino, i’m gonna cum!” you exclaimed.

“Go ahead and cum.” Lino groaned, “Fuck i’m gonna cum too.” You moved faster, squeezing your boob, clenching down as you came all over his cock. “oh fuck, you’re squeezing me -ngh- fuck i’m cumming.” Lino grunted, spilling his load into your dripping cunt. “fuck princess, get up.” He ordered.

He let go of jisung cock, “want you to ride hannie, want him to feel you pretty pussy filled with my cum.” You climbed off of lino and into jisungs, your boyfriends cum dripping out of you. “Fuck, sit on his cock, before it spills out of you.”

You sunk down on jisung, both of you moaning in unison. “That’s it, moan for me my pretty slut.” Lino watched as you both feverishly moved against each other, chasing your highs — you were feeling super sensitive, so it didn’t take long before you were screaming that you were close. “Hannie, you better hurry, once she cums you won’t be able to cum, we gotta give our girl a break.”

That’s what it took for him to cum, lino calling you ‘our girl’ — he hadn’t even thought about that part, the fact that he’ll be able to touch you like this, not only that he’ll be able to kiss you and lino whenever. His thighs shook as he came, filling you up more with his cum. “Sh-shit.” He cursed.

Lino watched you two make out for awhile, before ordering you both to stop. “Both of you need to get cleaned up, I know both of you can’t go another round, you’re both acting like bunnies in heat.” You pulled away, giving him a few pecks. “He’s just jealous.” You teased.

“Yah, you really want to show jisung how I treat brats, i’m trying to be nice.” You pouted. “You’re so mean, i’m just trying to be nice.” Jisung chuckled watching you both go back and forth. “It’s funny hannie?” He glared at the boy. “Don’t try and intimidate him.” You said. “Both of you better get up and shower, before neither one of you cum for the whole week.”

You both finally got washed up, lino giving both of you some clothes to wear — waiting for you both to return back to bed. “Hurry!” you intertwined your hands with jisung, walking out of the bathroom. “Calm down.” You said. “We’re right here.”

Han laid in the middle, while you held him, lino opting to hold his hand, watching tv. “We can do this whenever you want.” You played with his hair. “Not without my permission though.” Lino said, you rolled your eyes.

“I would like that.” You smiled kissing his cheek. “Good.” Lino turned to you, “where’s mine.” He pointed to his cheek. “Come.” He leaned over, and you planted a kiss on his cheek. “Good girl.” He ruffled hans hair — he was happy with you before, but now that he both of you, he felt complete.

“Both of you my good baby’s.”

©LUVYENI

[whalesforhands]

Please please satosugu sharing y/n giving her load after load

sometimes asks like this remind me i’m supposed to be an 18+ blog. i can feel my future self regretting adding to the growing amt of stsg porn in the tags

warnings: bully au, unprotected p in v, fem!reader, established satosugu bcs i love them, dubcon, obsessiveness but it’s the bad kind, minors DNI istg i will quit writing forever and take this blog down with me

“W-wait…!” You’re already crying, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder as the other plants itself on his hip, attempting to stop his movements and your further descent into overstimulation.

“I-I need a break…” You’re panting, breathless and boneless as the sweat on your body and haziness of your brain finally starts getting to you,

“Ehhh?” Gojo’s pulling you in closer by your waist when he feels you try to buck your hips away, sheathing his hard cock deep back inside your weeping hole as you let out a whine at the sensation.

He’s too spoiled. Too mean to let you go now.

“You tired? Want a break?” He’s leaning forward, blue eyes and cute pout all up in your face when he feels you clench tighter around him.

You nod fervently, teary gaze and gem-like eyes pointed towards him, letting him intertwine his big hands with yours oh so intimately. As if he loves you, as if he sees you as more than just his bedwarmer. He’s finally showing you mercy.

He slows to a stop, finally letting you take a shaky breath in before he pulls out all the way, a combination of Geto’s and his own spend starting to leak out. He leaves only the head of his pretty cock notching itself at your entrance, letting you relax into the bed and seeing your shoulders begin to droop from sheer exhaustion.

Before he rams the entirety of it back in, ignoring your squeals and squirms, your cries of pained pleasure.

“N-no!” Thrust. “G-gojo please!” Thrust. You’re starting to cry again, hold on his hands letting go to push at his chest lightly, the pleasure and lust overtaking your overtaxed body.

“Just kidding~, whores like you should just sit there and take cocks in this tight cunt of yours like an obedient slut.”

Suguru’s been watching all this while as he watches his boyfriend have his way with you, his hand vigorously stroking his own phallus, watching intently as your eyes started to roll to the back of your head, tongue beginning to loll out as Satoru’s unrelenting pace fucked you stupid.

“Hey, pull out. I’m gonna cum.” His hand is holding onto his painfully hard cock as he watches the way your tears fall, your sweaty face streaked in your overstimulated pleasure and helplessness as you simply take what you’re given.

He wants to add to your ruin.

“Hah? Just do it on her somewhere, I’m busy.” Gojo accentuated his words with a harsh buck of his hips, using a hand to hold both of yours down as the other rubs at your quivering clit.

His thrusts are speeding up, your whines and moans echoing throughout his bedroom as you cry and cry and cry, reaching your climax for the nth time that night, cumming onto his already drenched cock.

He lets out a pleasured grunt, “You fucking slut…!” His words are barely breathed out as he starts to cum, spurts of familiar white hot liquid making you twitch as you let out a quiet moan at the sensation, your legs thrown over his shoulders as you tremble and shake.

It’s finally over, right? But… he’s not pulling out, only reaching a hand up to your cheek to pat your worn out self as he grins, wrapping your legs around his waist as he starts to pick you up.

When… Did Suguru get behind you?

“If you’re not gonna pull out, I might as well join in, shouldn’t I?”

You feel a prodding at your already abused hole, a second cock sliding inbetween your filled pussy and against Satoru’s now sensitive dick.

Oh no.

[macfrog]

brother | joel & tommy

massive thank-you to @elliespuns who was kind enough to send me so many gorgeous photos of joel and tommy to choose from for this piece. i really, really appreciate it, lovely 🤍 forever indebted to and forever obsessed with you!

pairing: joel miller & tommy miller summary: tommy visits his brother's grave. warnings: lots of grief, brotherly love (but sad), spoilers for tlou2 word count: 900 words

masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🤍 | posted first on ao3!

We brought you home in a mottled sheet.

Pathetic, right? I know it, brother. I’m sorry for it. Shit, I’m sorry for all of it.

It’s the best we could find – the best they could find. The kids, I mean. I couldn’t’ve found my own two feet when they eventually managed to wake me. The room swelled into focus and everything was doubled, everything swaying side to side, all violent like.

I could hardly string a sentence together. My head felt heavy with blood, hearing still shot to hell. The first thing I did was look for you.

And oh, Jesus, Joel, did I see you.

I spat the words out in a sob. Be careful with him, I said. I couldn’t get to my feet quick enough; couldn’t reach you with my shaking hands. That’s my goddamn brother, you hear?

He’s my brother.

They found an old pallet and made a sled out of it. We tied it to Old Beardy’s breastplate and let him lead you home. Figured the old timer’s used to the weight of you by now, right?

He kept shaking his head the whole way, kept huffing these deep, achy breaths. I’d never heard him do that before – none of us had. Like he was in pain, almost. I don’t know if horses know grief like we do, Joel, but it sure seemed like he knew. He just…knew.

The gray lump of you jolted and jerked behind him. The more I looked, the more I felt like throwing up, and still – I couldn’t look away from you.

The shape of your head – this crimson bloom where your skull had been broken. Square shoulders, sturdy chest. Long legs and boots still laced – the way you once taught me. Make bunny ears, twist ‘em around each other. Yeah, just like that. Now, pull.

Tall frame, protective frame. Used to plant yourself between me and anything you thought might hurt me. Used to wrestle with me in the backyard, stomach my damn windmill punches like they were nothing.

Man, I don’t know how you ever taught me to throw a half-decent one, but you did. Mom would call us inside and you’d pat my back and say good job, little brother.

Good job. What kinda fucking job did I do this time, huh? When it mattered? Where was I, when my brother needed me most?

On my goddamn ass, that’s where. Blacked out. I couldn’t get to you, no matter how hard I tried.

I tried, Joel. I swear to you, I tried.

It was all of it, all at once. The blizzard, the woman, the room – Christ, that room. So much blood I felt it lining the inside of my lungs. So much that I can still smell it, taste it, like it’s become me. Like everything I look at is tinged red; the color of rust, the color of rage.

The room, where I became just the one. Lost something in my sleep. Hit the ground with a heavy thud, swam back to the surface to find I was short. Something taken. Something stolen.

And I’ve been without you before, Joel, but at least I always got to give you a piece of my mind on the way out.

You remember summer camp, that year I was real homesick? I don’t know what it was. Maybe just knowing you were all those miles away. You remember I wrote you about a hundred times? Jesus. I know you’re laughing, too.

I spent that whole summer with a smile pinned to my face. Counting down the days. I’d turn over in my sleeping bag, pick at the skin on my thumbs and wonder what you were up to. Wonder if you were missing me as much. Wonder if you’d thought about me at all that day.

Well, here I am. Wondering much the same.

I miss you, Joel. I don’t know what to do with that. There ain’t no bus home at the end of this; no big brother and his dirt bike waiting for me in Austin. It’s only been a week, I know that – but my ears won’t stop ringing, and I haven’t stopped looking for you.

It wakes me at night. This pain in my chest, like I’m swimming for that surface over and over, and all I ever do is drown. I wake saying your name. The doctors say it’s just bad dreams, just part of the process, but I know what it really is. I’m calling on you, and you never come.

It’s about damn time I realized you ain’t never gonna come. You’re never coming back. Not to me, not to this place. You’re on a path I can’t follow, brother. We’re on our own from here on out.

Goddamn it, Joel. Why the hell’d it have to be you?

Maybe if we’d gone a different route that day. Maybe if we’d spent a little longer in the stables. We were tryna outrun the weather, sure, but we could’ve spared a few minutes. Shit, I would’ve spared anything, if it meant I’d still have my brother.

Sun’s coming up over the mountains. I better get going. Got a mighty long journey ahead of me. I’ll make things right, Joel, I swear.

Go on, now. I’ll bet your Sarah’s waiting.

See you round, brother.

[linos-luna]

what do you think about yandere chan and changbin? will they kidnap the reader together or will they be against each other?

Pleaseeee, i want this so much!

Also, I love your work. You,re my favourite author (?)!!!🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

I think they would definitely kidnap together! But there would also be a slight rivalry among them. Either way, I can see Yandere Chan taking control of the situation most.

Thank you! 🤍🤍🤍

———————————————————————

Our Doll 🔪

Yandere!Chan x Fem!Reader x Yandere!Changbin

(Pt. 1) (Pt. 2) (Pt. 3)

Warnings: kidnapping, Yandere, nonconsensual kissing!, implied choking, stalking

——————————————————————

Friends to the end right? Even when there’s a girl in the picture. How about a girl to mutually obsess over? Perhaps even better!

Everyday they’d watch. And everyday they’d wait. Changbin wants to touch you so bad but Chan knew better.

Chan was the sweet talker while his friend followed along. The older man was better at hiding his desperation for you while Changbin’s admiration wasn’t as well hidden.

Nonetheless, you thought of them as friends. You had to admit that changbin looks pretty good with his muscles and maybe Chan a little more with his flirtatious comments but still just friends right?

It all happened so fast. Your freedom gone in an instant.

After a lunch date with some friends, you were heading back to your car. You were the last to leave as you had to use the restroom but it was the middle of the day in a fairly populated area.

As you walked, you looked down at your phone, about to reply to your friend’s text when you feel someone come next to you.

“Hey, y/n.”

You jumped a little but laughed it off when realizing that it’s just your friend Chan.

“Almost gave me a heart attack.” You chuckled while slowing down. “What are you doing here?”

“I just happened to be around.” He smiled while lightly stroking your hair. “Thought I’d see my pretty girl.”

You blushed as he got in front of you, he was practically in between you and your car and you felt your heart thumping as he rubbed his thumb over your lips, only staring at you, as if deep in thought.

“Chan?”

“Do you l want to come over?” He asked suddenly.

“Oh. Id love to but… I’m going to a friends house in like an hour…” you replied nervously. “Next time maybe?”

“An hour? You have plenty of time!” He said cheerfully while getting close to you.

“Well no—”

“Right Binnie? An hour is perfect!” Chan interrupted as he looked behind you. Your body tensed up as you felt the muscular man behind you. Your back practically pressed to his chest.

“Aw hyung, I wanna bring her home for longer.” Changbin pouted while holding your waist. “She’s so cute! I wanna keep her forever!”

Before you could react, Changbin grabbed the keys from your hand and held you as Chan gave you a forced kiss so that you couldn’t scream. The parking lot didn’t have many people there but someone must’ve saw something. Right??

Last thing you remember is being shoved into the backseat of your own car before a feeling of breathlessness and everything going dark. You didn’t even have the chance to struggle.

~~~

You had no idea how long you’d been out. All you knew was that you’re on a stranger’s bed in a room you’ve never seen.

You opened your mouth to call out but your voice came out very coarse. Looking to the mirror near the bed, you notice the bruising around your neck, almost as if you’d been strangled.

“I thought I may have killed you…”

You turned to see Changbin at the door. He let out a big sigh of relief before approaching you.

“S-stop-!” You said in a loudish raspy whisper while holding your hand out. “W-what did you—?! Wh-where—?!”

“Don’t be scared.” Changbin said casually as Chan came into the room.

“Hi baby. How are you doing?” Chan asked sweetly.

“Baby?” You looked at him with a raised brow. “W-what’s going on?!”

“Hyung, can I kiss her now?!”

“Hold on, Bin.” Chan replied while getting close to to you.

The man stroked your hair and grabbed a handful before suddenly pulling it back.

“Baby, you’re home now!” He laughed as Changbin took a seat next to you.

You winced at the pain and tears formed as Changbin made some desperate whines next to you.

“Pleeeeeease hyuuuungg!”

“Go ahead. She’s our doll now.” Chan replied with a devious smile as the other man grabbed your cheeks and started desperately making out with you.

You were practically frozen, Unable to move as he left his sloppy kisses. There was no way to get out of this…

———————————————————————

[satorusugurugurl]

STARE GAZING WITH SUGURUU!!

My Constellation

Summary: Marie’s Summer Smut Fest prompt: Stargazing

Pairing: Geto Suguru x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Smut, pnv, unprotected sex, cream pie, exhibitionism, night sex, outdoor sex, fluffy, sweet, goodness

Word Count: 974

A/N: nothing says summer like stargazing up at the sky. It's a perfect way to spend a summer evening. Only if Geto Suguru was around to make it ten times better!! ⭐️🌙 (were gonna pretend there's no scars alright 😁)

Crickets chirped, and the air was cool compared to the summer blazing heat of hours before. You lay on a blanket, staring at the stars, while your boyfriend gently grabbed and held her hand. The night was clear and beautiful, making it the perfect night for stargazing.

“It’s so pretty.” You whispered, winning a glance from your boyfriend. “I can’t believe there’s so many stars up there.”

Suguru nodded, his fingers intertwining with yours. “It’s pretty breathtaking, isn’t it?”

“Mhmm.”

“But you know nothing else is as breathtaking as you, right?”

You scoff, turning your head to look at him with an incredulous glance. “Suguru, these are literal stars and constellations. I’m nothing compared to their otherworldly beauty.” Your boyfriend looked at you as if you had insulted his whole family and friends.

“You did not just say that about yourself.”

“I’m not a star.”

“You’re my star.” He released the group he had on your hand, moving to crawl on top of you. “And you have constellations all over you.”

“Oh?”

He trailed his fingers over your arms and the freckles and scars that littered your skin. “See.” His fingertips slowly grazed over your arms. “You are a perfect constellation.” You shivered as he gently pulled your shirt over your head, allowing it to fall to the grass beside you.

“W-Well, you’re just as perfect.” Following his lead, you pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the ground as his long, dark hair fell over his shoulder. “I could trace your constellations forever.” Your fingers brushed over his ‘X’ scar on his chest, sending shivers down his spine.

“I love you.”

The rest of your clothes were removed, and Suguru slid his cock inside of you with a heavy sigh of pleasure, grunting as he slowly rocked into you, his lips pressed against yours with slowly lazy movements as he fucked into you. With each thrust, his fingers grazed over your skin, tracing the beauty of it, the constellations that weren’t in the sky but were on you. The person he loved so incredibly much.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as the pad of his thumb rubbed over several of your freckles. “God, I want to map out every inch of you with my—nngh—with my tongue.”

That would be for a later date, though. Because right now, you were too obsessed with how good Suguru’s cock felt sliding in and out of your tight wet heat. He lost himself in the wall, stretched out as he gripped your hips, losing himself and you as a whole. He admired how the stars twinkled from above, reflecting in your eyes as you stared into his dark, lustful gaze.

The blanket moved with each thrust; the smell of fresh-cut grass and wildflowers made you drunk of your over-heightened senses. You could taste Suguru’s mint gum on your tongue, smell the summer breeze and his expensive shampoo, feel the warmth of the summer evening over your skin, and hear Suguru whispering soft affirmations of love into your ear.

You love him, God; you loved him so much. Suguru grunted as you began rolling your hips and time with his thrusts. Your inner walls begin squeezing his cock, hugging him tight, trying to hold him as deep inside of you as you can. You always got this desperate and needy when he fucked you like this. But you didn’t know that he was just as lost in you as you were in him.

Seeing such a view of the cosmic beauty that was you had Suguru’s hands leaving your hips to cup your face as he kissed you deeply, his buck faster, pushing himself all the way inside of you before pulling back out, repeating the action, drawing out the sweetest cries from your throat. Your pussy clenched around him, causing him to whine as you kissed each other until you pulled back far enough to breathe.

“S-Sugu—!!” you wind, tilting your head back, allowing him to lick and suck at your pulse. “I-I’m gonna! Oooh fuck I'm gonna—”

“Fucking do it. Give it to me, Princess, give it all to me.” his teeth dug into your neck right above your pulse. “Cum on my cock right fucking now!”

Not needing to be told twice, you came hard all over his cock. The twitching and squeezing of your walls had Suguru throwing his head back, hair flowing with him as he roared out your name like a prayer he emptied himself inside of you.

As the warmth of his cum fills your insides. Your boyfriend panted, holding himself up by his hands that caged around your head. He smiled softly in the moonlight that highlighted your features and admired your pure, gorgeous face. He sighed before leaning down and kissing you softly. As you lazily kissed him back, Suguru slowly pulled out of you, lying down on his side and holding you close to his side.

“You are my everything, princess, my stars, constellations, sun, and moon.” unlike before, you didn’t argue with him; instead, you pressed soft kisses against his chest as you blushed.

“You’re my entire world, too, Sugu.” both of you lay on the blankets, staring at the starry sky. Suguru’s fingers trailed over the beautiful marks on your body. Marks that he called his constellations and that we’re all named after you.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

Summer Fest Tag List:

@typicallife-101

[asterias-record-shop]

╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮

— blinded

╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯

**edited timeline, aged up to in early twenties

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[join the taglist!]𓆪

Maybe it was your feelings from Ethan that blinded you from seeing how horrible he truly was. After just murdering someone, someone you must have cared for, you were only focused on getting off from the feeling of a hilt of a Buck 120 buried all the way down to the blade in your soaked cunt.

“God, you’re such a fucking whore,” Ethan spoke, blood splattered on his face as he stared down at your trembling thighs, rutting hips, and squelching pussy. “Look at you… getting off on having a fucking knife inside of you.”

You wailed softly, sobbing as you reached up to cover your mouth, your stomach twisting as your mind blurred. This was bad, horrible. How could your boyfriend of almost two years do this? “Pl-Please, please Ethan… I’m almost there, please!”

He laughed cruelly, humming. “Watch… when I keep fucking murdering people, they’re going to find all your cum all over their body and we’ll be fucking tied to each other forever. Would you like that? Hm?”

His words make your stomach clench, pussy fluttering around the hilt of the blade making him laugh, watching your hips squirm. “Yes! Oh my god, yes! Ethan, I need to cum, I need to cum!”

He smirked, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your tear stained cheek. “You’re such a pathetic little slut. You’re so lucky I love you… that I want to fuck you and get you pregnant so no matter what happens to me, this world will never be able to escape my bloodline.”

A whine falls from your lips as you gripped onto the black cloak he wore, mindlessly nodding along with his words. You were so fucked out and obsessed with him, you didn’t care what he did, as long as he only did it to you and you only. “Yes! Yes, I want to get pregnant, please please please…” you babbled endlessly before a yell of your name makes you snap out of it.

Ethan smirked, tilting his head. “Who was that?”

Quickly shaking your head, you continued to roll your hips. “P-Probably Tara.. please, I need to cum-”

“Ah ah,” Ethan tutted, shaking his head. “I need to get out of here baby… maybe take her with me.”

You quickly shake your head, trying to divert him from your best friend. “W-Wait! Please, don’t hurt her! Please… please, I’ll do anything… I’ll get pregnant with your baby, please…”

He laughed, pulling the knife out of you making you whine, shaking your head. “You think that was a choice? I’m going to cum inside of you so much that you’re going to be leaking it for days,” he basically growled out, this new side of Ethan making your cunt clench around nothing as his knife grazed your skin. “Now… where should I mark you, hm? So they don’t know I fucked you like a whore with a blood stained knife.”

“Anywhere!” You sobbed, watching as his knife nicked at your arm before leaving a soft trail on your forearm. “E-Ethan!”

“Sh, baby,” he whispers, kissing at your cheek. “Gotta go. I won’t hurt Tara, just for you. I expect you to be prepped and ready for when I sneak into your room tonight and fuck you until all you can think about is having my child.”

His words made your stomach clench, cumming around nothing as he laughed cruelly, giving a firm slap to your cunt. “That’s a good girl… you better be ready when I get to your dorm room.”

When you got home after making a police statement, you crashed onto your bed. You had already started working on stretching yourself out for Ethan to just come and use you like a whore, but you couldn’t help but feel bad. You had lied and said you had killed him, but what if he comes back? What would you do then?

“What are you thinking about, pretty girl?” Ethan’s voice makes you jump, standing at the edge of your bed, pumping his cock languidly as he stares at your stilled fingers in your cunt.

“I-I told them I killed you,” you whisper, shaking your head. “Th-That I stabbed you and that I think you’re dead somewhere.”

“Good girl,” he praised you, slowly crawling onto the bed and holding your wrist, pulling out your hand and pushing your fingers into his mouth. He groaned loudly at your taste, using his other hand to push into you and snap his hips forward. You screamed out as he lets your hand fall to his shoulder, kissing your cut forearm as he continued to roll his hips. “I’m sorry I had to hurt you baby… had to make sure they weren’t suspicious.”

“I-It’s okay,” you whisper back, shaking your head. “I can take it.”

He smiled, letting his tongue trail over the medical tape. “Can you? Hm?”

You whined, nodding as his hips started to move faster, groans falling from his lips as he desperately tried to speed up his thrusts. “I’ll take anything you give me.”

He groaned as he threw his head back- you really were a perfect little whore for him. Anything he said you’d obey, anything he did you’d take- it was just perfect.

“Fuck, you did such a good job that I’m about to cum,” he groaned, watching as you nodded mindlessly.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll take it!” You whimpered, throwing your head back. “I’ll take it, I’ll take everything-!”

A scream fell from your lips as he quickly took your legs over his shoulders, pushing you back enough so that he could fuck you at a new angle, ragged grunts falling from his lips. “Fuck… fuck, fuck!”

A groan fell from your mouth as you felt his cum spurt into you, warm and sticky as your stomach clenched and you came just at the feeling, whimpering softly as he continued to roll his hips. “You know I love you, right?”

You nodded mindlessly as he stroked your face, tilting his head. “Good… good, pretty girl, because I’m too fucking obsessed with you to lose you.”

Taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@nowitsmissing]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪  𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪   𓆩[@c78r]𓆪   𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪   𓆩[@copypastedaphne]𓆪   𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪   𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪   𓆩[@f-aggotry]𓆪 𓆩[@ineedmentalhelp123]𓆪   𓆩[@aerangi]𓆪   𓆩[@luv-lella]𓆪   𓆩[@teenwolfbitches28]𓆪   𓆩[@miawastakens]𓆪   𓆩[@hufflepuffsweetheart1]𓆪   𓆩[@nowitsmissing]𓆪   𓆩[@satans--beloved]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[peachhcs]

catching you up → social media post

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

a few posts from samy, will, and mack after the san jose trip!

all pics are from instagram, pinterest, or tumblr. as u guys know i love doing these kinds of posts, so i decided to compile one about samy's recent trip to san jose and just some recents lately :)

au masterlist

samyhughes lotsss of complaints that will wasn’t in my last post, so i made sure to include him! thanks for having me in sj <3

view all comments

hannahduke my beautiful amazing roommate u look so stunning wow

| samyhughes i love youuu

user1 WOW she’s so stunning omg

user2 WANT that dress

user3 this is so adorable

edwards.73 good stuff hughesy

| samyhughes 😌😌

markestapa ooh how aesthetically pleasing

| samyhughes i really tried this time 🙌

jackhughes sooo like when u coming to nj?? been to the west coast twice now and not to the east coast 😔

| samyhughes dawg u really typed that while i’m sitting right next to u 😒

| jackhughes doesn’t make my comment any less valid tho

lhughes_06 rowdy’s got a point when u coming to nj??!?

| samyhughes when u invite me🤨

user4 i love their relationship it’s so cutie

teddystiga_ …still not enough will. he deserves more than 2 photos 💔

| samyhughes i guess nothing i do is good enough

jameshagens_4 4+4 =8

| samyhughes who taught u that??🤨

| jameshagens_4 myself

mackcelebrini where is my feature?? i spent like 93.4% of the weekend with u

| samyhughes sorry mack🥲

beckettsennecke_ soo good seeing u this weekend!

| samyhughes right back at ya beck :)

_quinnhughes west coast but no visit to van 😕

| samyhughes next time i’ll make pencil u into my schedule

user5 i wanna be her so bad omg

user6 mack and beckett’s comments are so cute aww

ryan.leno_4 justice for will he deserves more photos

| samyhughes so the whole post should just be will ig

michaelhagens_11 run it to boston soon?

| samyhughes omw!

zeevbuium28 @_willsmith2 u pulled fr

| _willsmith2 i totally did😍

kayleighdocherty_ wow so gorg samy!!!

| samyhughes by bae😍😍

gabeperreault44 glad u finally included will this time

| samyhughes glad u approve

aram_minnetian MY MAN MADE THE CUT🙌🙌

| samyhughes won’t make that mistake again

julianne_gelinas soo hot wow wanna be u

| samyhughes i wanna be u actually

drewf2 can u bring us to sj next time?

| samyhughes for sure for sure

rutgermcgroarty yuh san jose!

| samyhughes yuh!

olivianmorriss sooo pretty samy obsessed with u

| samyhughes omg i’m obsessed w u girl

user7 aww the hockey gfs in the comments r so cutie

user8 these genes popped off fr phew

danielle_minnetian HOTTTTTT

| samyhughes 😻😻😻

samanthaminnetian my name twin is so gorg

| samyhughes no ur gorg sam

graceccsmith aww love these samy!

| samyhughes miss u grace🥲

nick_moldenhauer wow good views pic 4

| samyhughes ikrrrr

_willsmith2 loveeeed getting to see u this weekend i wanna do it all over again ❤️

_willsmith2 i already miss u fuck

| samyhughes i miss u sm babe ❤️❤️ wish we could hang out forever

_willsmith2 sj you’ve been really good to me so far

view all comments

gabeperreault44 FIRST AGAIN

gabeperreault44 miss u buddy

gabeperreault44 holy shit pic 4?!

gabeperreault44 this is insane contract posting if it is wow

| _willsmith2 i see ur keeping up with the 4 comments in a row

| _willsmith2 what? just some things that’s been really good recently ☺️

ryan.leno_4 oh my god i don’t have words actually

ryan.leno_4 ur insane for this smitty

| _willsmith2 insane for what?

user1 they are the hottest couple and they know it too

user2 will smith posting more revealing pics of his gf each post was not on my bingo card but i am here for it

user3 he’s so real for this u know hell yeah. he’s gotta make sure everyone knows who’s girl is his😌

user4 honestly i’d take this kind of man over anything else

mackcelebrini WOO featured!!!! also ur so whipped wow

| _willsmith2 wouldn’t ever forget u mack😍

drewf2 i respect it honestly

rutgermcgroarty now THIS is the kind of contract posting i like to see

| _willsmith2 mhmm

zeevbuium28 will i stood up and applauded for u

| _willsmith2 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

jameshagen_4 no one’s commenting about ur last pic abt ur first nhl goals so i will u killed it smitty🙌

| _willsmith2 wow thanks james i appreciate it

michaelhagens_11 good shit

aram_minnetian yupppp and i’d show it off too tbh

danielle_minnetian @samyhughes u won

| julianne_gelinas deadass wow

| samyhughes ☺️☺️

eamonpowell_ congrats on the nhl goals!!!

| _willsmith2 thanks e!!

user5 i loveee seeing everyone comment about something different

user6 whooo trained him this well wow he’s the only hockey bf i know who really loves his gf

jackhughes first of all crazy set of photos second of all congrats on those nhl goals bud

| _willsmith2 thank ya j hughes

lhughes_06 everything we ever talked about went out the window

| _willsmith2 i’m sorry luke🥲

thombordeleau_ ur crazy w-2 but i appreciate the pics

| _willsmith2 always providing

eklund_72 tell me again how one can achieve this?

| _willsmith2 honestly idk just be friends with her for years

fabianzetterlund love ya w2

| _willsmith2 back at ya

tofff73 i already have no words. maybe we need to work on the media training again 🤨

| _willsmith2 apologizes ty😔

samyhughes wow i love you

samyhughes obsessed with everything about you

| _willsmith2 i’m in love with you and obsessed with every part of you too

jacob_fowler24 applauding u smitty

| _willsmith2 thank u fowler 🙏

hannahduke wow she trained u so well omg

| julianne_gelinas i've been sayinggg this how does she do it??

| samanthaminnetian deadass tho like..how did she train him this good??

| samyhughes i wish i had an answer he lowkey does this all on his own..

| hannahduke yeah u totally won then

mackcelebrini sj recents

view all comments

eklund_72 wow i'm honored to be featured on the 1st overall draft pick's instagram

| mackcelebrini ofc eklund

beckettsennecke_ superrr tough celly

| mackcelebrini thanks sennecke

thombordeleau_ yeahhh he bad 🔥

| mackcelebrini 🔥

user1 aww smitty is in all of these pics

user2 the fact that all of these have will in them is adorable they're so baby

fabianzetterlund good times

| mackcelebrini 100%

tofff73 great season so far celly

| mackcelebrini thanks toff means a lot coming from u

gabeperreault44 i think we should unite forces and be samy's competition for will's attention

| mackcelebrini i'm actually so glad u said that bc i 100% agree

| samyhughes HEY

ryan.leno_4 hell yeah celebrini congrats on the season so far

| mackcelebrini thanks leno

lhughes_06 lookng gooddd

| mackcelebrini 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

jackhughes threads are awesome

| mackcelebrini wow what a compliment from THE jack hughes

user3 these friendships are so adorable omg

user4 i keep saying how badly i want to be a part of their friend group

hannahduke so cool macklin celebrini the 1st overall pick of the 2024 draft!

| mackcelebrini thanks hannah duke the younger sister of dylan duke and twin to tyler duke!

| tyler___duke crazy pull

samyhughes wow ur so cool macklin!

| mackcelebrini thanks samy!

rutgermcgroarty @samyhughes u got some competition girl..

| samyhughes i see..

| mackcelebrini yeah take that i get to see will 24/7

_willsmith2 wow so honored to be featured all 3 times

_willsmith2 as much as i love the support my girlfriend is and always will be my #1 but you are a very close 2nd

| mackcelebrini damn that hurts after everything i've done for u...

[rainba]

So… what happens if their darling isn’t attracted to men but… WOMEN?! 😳🫣

Just a thought I had for a while! I love all of your posts and your OCs are ADORABLE!!!!!!

-🇰🇷 anon

Luka and Kairos literally crying and shaking….. 

What do you mean you’re attracted to women… And not men!!?!?

｡ﾟ･ (>﹏<) ･ﾟ｡

In all honesty, I don’t think either one of them would be able to get over it.

For Kairos, when he first learns that his darling is only attracted to women, he wouldn’t believe it at first. For weeks on end, he tries to delude himself into thinking that you’re lying, only to be hit with the cold hard reality that you’ll just… Never be attracted to him. (T_T)

So– what does he do in response?

Well, he dresses up as a woman, of course! His plan is this: he masquerades as a woman, finds a way to make you fall in love with him, and the moment that you agree to be with him is when he’ll reveal that he’s actually a guy..!

…He hopes that if you fall in love with him first, you’ll be able to ignore the fact that he’s not actually a woman and can make an exception for him! Right..? Right?

If you don’t, he’d end up flying into a panic and would have a total mental breakdown.

“I– I’m sorry I’m not a woman! I… Please, please, w-we’re soulmates! Y-you can’t do this to me!” 

Kairos would be clinging to your legs and begging for you to accept his love. He'll do whatever it takes to have you- even if that results in guilt tripping and blackmail. (つω`｡) Even if you're not attracted to men, could you at least, you know... Pretend? Just for him?

He'll settle for you just playing pretend- so long as it's believable.

As for Luka, he’d be… A little more accepting of the fact that you only like women. Of course he’s absolutely devastated on the inside, but it’s not like he can do anything. He can’t change your sexuality, and he’s not trans, so…

All he can do is accept it. That’s what he tries to tell himself.

…But his obsession runs deep. It refuses to die. Even after you tell him you only like women, he’ll still find himself longing for you– and honestly, it all feels much more intense, now that he knows he truly just can’t have you.

Luka knows it's petty, but he finds himself sabotaging your relationships anyways. He stalks you, fantasizes about you, monopolizes your attention, tries to manipulate you into hating all of your other friends… It’s almost like he just can’t help himself. He feels pathetic, not being able to just handle the hard rejection and move on with his life. He needs you so badly.

This will keep happening until you fully cut Luka out of your life– where instead, he’ll be forced to forever linger on thoughts of you while keeping his distance. Even after you push him away, he still remains madly in love. (╯︵╰,)

Every relationship he tries to have afterwards, he would only be able to think of you, and what could’ve been. He would be the type to accidentally moan your name while he’s fucking somebody else… ^^;;; Sigh.

…If only you had liked men, too. .｡･ﾟﾟ･(＞_＜)･ﾟﾟ･

Thank you for sending the ask 🇰🇷 anon!!! And TYYYY for liking my stuff + OCs!

(っ˘ω˘ς )

Here's a pic of Kairos dressing up as a woman, hehe.

[rollercoasterwords]

heyy, you said some time ago on an ask you hc Lily would give harry tons of mommy issues if alive, and I'm obsessed with this idea, please tell us more?

hi!!!! i did indeed say that….getting back to this a few days late but love this question 🌝🌝

to answer the first thing i have to explain is that in my mind lily is a bit of a cunt. she’s intelligent & ambitious—we know she was in slug club & made top marks despite not growing up in the wizarding world, which in my mind means she was likely competitive & had this sort of “i’m going to prove i’m better than these assholes” mentality & was also a perfectionist. she was used to being the favorite child/special one, bc we know her parents were excited abt her being a witch which is part of why petunia resented her; but then she had her sister & purebloods in the wizarding world putting her down, so i imagine that like…she’d have a strong sense of self worth and a need to prove herself, but also a bit of a martyr complex. at the same time, she had blinders on when it came to her own friend; we know she didn’t actually cut things off w severus despite him getting involved in nasty shit until he publicly called her a slur. this is actually one thing that i think is very similar about lily & james; though they both ostensibly had a very strong sense of justice, their blind spot was their close friends, which i imagine could make them both a bit hypocritical in that they’d say people who do x are bad but then forgive their friends who do x, etc.

ANYWAY. in a canon compliant setting if i am imagining lily & james relationship. well i’ll be honest i don’t think it was the perfect true love story etc that we’re sold in the books like. they were kids. i think that once they did get together it was v passionate & intense, made moreso by the fact that they were both fighting in a war & had the pressure of knowing they could die any day, etc.; if they hadn’t been fighting in a war, i think they would have broken up shortly after leaving school as they both followed different life paths & matured more as people & realized their first serious teenage relationship likely wasn’t going to be forever. BUT in a canon-adjacent/compliant universe war is on, their relationship is tumultuous but the dire circumstances make them cling to each other even tighter, & in my beautiful mind palace what happens is lily gets pregnant accidentally & they have a shotgun wedding. i’ve written an accidental pregnancy storyline w them in a few of my fics now so i can imagine it playing out in a couple ways, but no matter what in my mind lily was NOT planning to have a baby and has very mixed feelings about it—maybe she doesn’t realize she’s pregnant until it’s too late to do anything about it, maybe she considers aborting but decides against it, maybe she tries to abort but for some reason it doesn’t work or falls through…whatever happens, she ends up having the baby. now she’s a mother yayyyy except she’s a mum in like the most stressful circumstances ever & probably not having a joyous experience w her newborn. maybe some post-partum depression etc.

anyway. imagining canon breaking here and her becoming a mum…feel like this could go a few ways, and the exact mommy issues she’d give her kid would depend on which way it went. let’s say james dies on halloween but lily & harry both make it out; i definitely think part of her would sort of resent harry bc suddenly she’s 20 and she has to spend the rest of her life being a mum and she doesn’t get to enjoy her youth and have a normal life, and also she’s expected to raise the chosen one and also he’s kinda the reason her husband got killed. i think there’d be this sort of distance between them & i imagine her at times making an effort to be the loving mum she’s meant to be but ultimately it’s unsustainable, and harry grows up trying everything he can to make his mum really love him and develops a complex over feeling like there’s something fundamentally wrong with him bc that love & parental warmth just doesn’t come naturally to lily. & if this is a universe where voldemort’s still out to get harry then i imagine them moving around a lot, maybe living in hiding, her raising harry to one day take down voldemort…sorry but i do think she would turn him into the priest’s favorite sacrificial lamb. i think she would raise him to be a soldier/human sacrifice who is constantly feeling like he has to earn love, and neither of them would ever fully be able to give the other what they need or want, even though i do think lily would love harry…i just don’t think she’d always do a very good or consistent job of it!

[naurimastaur]

Seeing them for the first time, again

Summary: losing a lung and your friends to wkcd meant Gally had a pretty shit year. What’s the harm however, in seeing a familiar face?

Pairing: Gally (maze runner) x nb!reader

A/N: this is so cringe but I’m so obsessed with him Idc if this flops with the dying tmr fandom// also this is my first attempt at angst so go easy on me

———————————————————————

“Hey everybody relax, we’re all on the same side here,” Gally called out amongst the chaos. The faces of his old friends turning towards him in apprehension. The familiarity of his voice momentarily pausing their act of rebellion, the concealment of his face enhancing their confusion.

“What do you mean, we’re all on the same side? Who the hell are you?” Thomas, ever the skeptic, interrogated.

Gally’s eyes weren’t focused on him however, for lingering in the back was the reason he joined the right arm to begin with; y/n. Wretched and messy but all in one piece, they stood in front of him.

It was like seeing them for the first time, all over again.

———————————————————————

Gally had heard the familiar siren of the box’s arrival. He wasn’t remotely interested most of the time on seeing who came up with it. On this day however Gally had overworked himself, and the idea of joyfully revelling in a greenie’s newfound terror seemed like a treat.

Towering over the box he spotted a figure hiding amongst the supplies, crouched like a caged animal, eyes wild and ferocious. He had to admit his curiosity was peaked, most greenies were crying at this point. This one however had looked at him in rage, a hand lingered behind their back.

“Where the hell am I?” They snarled, chest slightly heaving, the only real indicator of their fear.

“Your new home,” Gally had replied, a sarcastic smile on his face. His gaze never left the greenie, whose eyes had regarded each and every teen boy in front of them with predatory caution.

“Why can’t I remember anything?” They questioned, eyes never focused on one person.

“All part of the glade’s charm,” Gally said, before he had reached out an arm for them to take. His admiration controlled his limbs before his brain did.

The greenie considered his offer before they had hauled themselves up, and bolted towards the maze doors. Gally hadn’t bothered to run after them, leaving the job to someone who actually cared like Newt. He had however returned his gaze to the supplies, noticing one of the crates was missing a shard of wood, no doubt a fault of the greenie’s.

He had to admit he was enamoured from that point onwards.

———————————————————————

Now they stood adjacent, mirroring their first encounter. Y/n was looking at him with rekindled fury, this time paired with their tainted memories. Their gally had died back in the maze, physically and figuratively. This version was a stranger; a defying act against fate.

The fire within them was awakening once again, where it was quieted by the nature of the glade, it now burned with the raw desire for revenge.

Their wrath was overcoming their joy. For where their heart was aching for the comfort of Gally, for the ease of his embrace, the overbearing rage was all-consuming.

Wkcd had taken Gally, that much they were certain of. This was a trick, a taunting illusion created from the depths of their imagination and wkcd’s tampering. Their time confined within wkcd’s laboratories meant they were forever trapped in their own mind, never knowing for certain what was real.

What was real was that there was a time when Gally had been theirs, when his company mellowed their temper and gave them faith. But those feelings had died with him, things were different now. They were both different; no longer two sides of the same coin but two puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit anymore.

( why did I write this cringe corny ass ending)

———————————————————————

A/n: might write a part 2 if I’m feeling silly. Also, why did I describe y/n so animalistic? Bc I’m so crazy and quirky and I can do what I want!!!! If you’d like to leave a request for any character for me to write, feel free I’m open to any! To my Weasley twin enthusiasts I will write them again don’t sweat it, I’m going through a phase<3

@thescrunkler despite you not being in a tmr phase, you’re getting tagged anyways x

[lunacyxxx]

yandere/perv suguru geto mdni!!!

imagine if suguru found a forbidden binding vow that could alter what curses taste like when he eats them. he tests it out on some of his favorite foods and they work but only for a little while, he was doing trial and error

there’s another page to the notebook he found containing the vow, it was folded up and tucked in the pocket on the inside of the back cover.

it revealed that if he wanted the taste to be permanent he’d have to find someone willing to give them either their spit, blood…or cum😌

yall see where i’m goin w this?

soooo that’s where you come into play, you and suguru have had passing conversations and got along nicely.

you were oblivious to his obsession over you that first started when you two had a mission together during your first week at jujutsu tech. you had saved him from a curse that caught him off guard thus led him to admiring your strength and beauty while doing so.

so suguru was with you talking about how he hated the tastes of curses, he described in detail how they tasted which made you lightly gag and feel sorry for him

just like he wanted you to

so sooner or later when he started getting closer to you and making himself a constant part of your life, how could you refuse to help him with the technique he called when he showed up at your dorn feigning exhaustion and agitation?

now here he was, fingers gripping your thighs possibly leaving bruises as his tongue was pressed flat against your clit and his head was nodding, causing the wet muscle to grind on your overstimulated clit.

you lost count of how many times you came, you were babbling his name weakly gripping his loose hair.

“you taste so fucking good, i could stay here forever,” suguru spoke before beginning to suck on your entrance. his tongue delving in and stroking your inner walls, lewd groans and slurps come from him as he shamelessly eats you out.

he pulls away and rubs your clit with his thumb, you can barely catch on to what he’s whispering against your thigh. suguru smirks after he finishes the vow, he goes back to slurping on your pussy until you cum yet again.

maybe it was the growing crush that you’d never admit you had on suguru, but you just can’t help but to get wet every time you’re near him now.