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luna-cove · 3 months ago

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Double Trouble | Luke and Kieran ft. Sylus

✧ summary: you take a quick liking to luke and kieran, they do the same.

✧ pairing: luke x female reader, kieran x female reader, sylus x female reader

✧ word count: 9.5K

✧ genre: smut, slight angst and fluff

✧ warnings: explicit sexual content, porn with little/no plot, dubious consent, manipulation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, threesome, vaginal sex, dirty talk, blindfolds, rough sex, oral sex(m! and f! receiving), masturbation, mask kink, fingering, finger sucking, face fucking, teasing, creampie, choking, degradation, praise kink, name-calling, pet names, switch!reader kinda,

✧ a/n: i posted this two months ago?? on ao3?? yeah so this was my first ever smut so it’s not great but i’m learning lmao. enjoy and be kind. this was inspired by milkandstarlight on here and one of their posts abt the twins <3

You woke up with your wrists and ankles bound and in a random man's car. You must of finally made it to the N109 Zone.

Your mind was still hazy from the drugs wearing off. Everything was happening so fast and the next thing you knew you were thrown on the ground, the dried grass straching against your palms that caught yourself. Dead trees adorned the dark gray, cloudy sky. You say a mausoleum not far from you, assuming it must a been a cemetry before the incident that happend years ago. A man appeared in front of you, only pulled out a knife and start searching over your body for the Aether Core as he held it near your throat. Like an angel from above, you heard a voice call out.

"Kidnapping Onychinus' prey without letting us know... That's not exactly polite."

The sky turned a light red at the voice. The man got behind you at the sound, the knife now closer to your throat than before. That feeling of a savior went as quickly it came. Another called out once more.

"She's ours, by the way. We called dibs a long time ago."

A black smoke cloud with red light streaks appeared out of nowhere and sliced the assailant's arm. The knife falling out of his hand and onto the ground. You followed shortly after as the man tried to get away. The cloud of red and black appeared again, this time revealing a masked individual in its mist. He stood tall, dressed in black with red accents to his outfit and mask. A hood with two red devil horns covered him.

"I'm really curious... She's brave enough to drink from a black glass."

He turned toward you, as he walked over another individual basically identical appeared behind him from the mist. Your kidnapper had failed to escape, dropping to his knees right in front of the second masked man who stepped on his back and pushed him further into the ground. A small cloud came from his hand, before it registered in your mind, it quickly darted across your kidnapper's throat. The sound of the blade could be heard and then you saw a pool of blood on the cobblestone. The man collapsed forward before he dissipated into ash.

"What will she do when backed into a corner..." One of them pondered as he sauntered up to you alongside the other.

Truthfully, it had you feeling something unexplainable.

"You're pretty bold for releasing information about the Aether Core into the Nest like that." The second said.

"Explains why boss is so interested."

"Where is he?"

"He said to wait."

"Well, how long?"

The two bickered between each other. Brothers, no doubt. They turned back to you, the attention making you freeze, not that the restraints gave you much to work with. However, you didn't expect them to pick you up and sit you down a woren down concerte slab. One on each side and for far too long was it quiet with no head of Onychinus showing.

"I'm bored." One sighed. "I am truly getting curious... About that backed into a corner thing."

The masked man was now sitting next to you in closer than ever. It was just a mask looking at you but you felt like he could see the deepest parts of your soul.

"Luke, you know Sylus will be here any moment." The other reminded him. "Not the time. Leave her alone."

"She's so pretty..." Luke said sweetly as his nimble fingers reached up to push a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Don't you think, Kieran?"

He didn't answer. All you could see was his back turned to the both of you with his arms crossed. You looked back at the one named Luke who's thigh still touched your own.

"What's your name, pretty?" He asked. "Boss never told us."

"Y/n..." You spoke up.

"Well, Y/n..." He leaned before he whispered mischievously, "Would you like to play with me?"

You backed away to look at the man in front you, partly surprised at his bluntness as you knew exactly what he meant by 'play' and the other part of you was intrigued by him.

"The boss would be very mad if you were to mess with his new toy." Kieran interrupted.

"Toy?" You scoffed at him. "Yes... I want to play with you. Both of you, actually."

"So ambitious." Luke chuckled. "Did you hear that, Kieran? She wants to take both of us."

"But Sylus-"

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him. We just have to be quick, that's all."

It clicked that they meant right there and then, in the open. It was secluded but the thought of the possibility of being caught was somewhat thrilling. In an attempt to find any sort of relief you clenched around nothing.

"You're okay with that right, Princess?" Luke questioned, his hand smoothing over your jean cladded thigh.

He wanted nothing more than to rip them off of you. The way your cheeks flushed, the way your eyes were hazed over and the sudden instense body heat that radiated off of you already told him the answer. The nodding of your head just confirmed it and within moments you lost your sight as he asked his brother for help. A dark piece of cloth came to blindfold you and all you could rely on was your other senses as you were surrounded by two men you just met. You could hear Kieran behind you take off his mask and put it on the concrete as you felt one of his brother's hand caress down the curve of your waist to rest on the band of your pants. It lingered just above where you needed for far too long to your liking. Your heavy breathing became pants before you bucked your hips.

"Do something, please." You begged.

"Eager now, are we?" Kieran murmured into your ear as he pushed your hair over to your other shoulder.

Suddenly, you felt his lips leave gentle but long kisses on the skin of your exposed neck, he pulled back the fabric of your shirt down to leave a longer trail on your shoulder. The sound of the blade rang in the air and your ankles relax as the rope fell to the ground. You felt Luke move to your side before his hand trailed down your abdomen and into your underwear as you spread your legs. The way his fingertips immediately brushed so softly over your clit has you sigh as you jolt before and relaxing into his brother's chest. You whimpered as he rubbed gently circles into the bud.

"You're so wet and we've barely done anything." You could hear the smile and pride in his voice when he said that. "What got you that way? Tell me."

You didn't respond to him. He rubbed your clit with more pressure which had you gasping and squirming in Kieran's embrace as he left little bites on your tender skin.

"Tell me." Luke repeated.

"Just the way you came in... I don't know, the way you say things, the way you fought the kidnapper and everything... I found it hot. You looked hot, fuck."

You were humiliated, falling apart for these two and for what? They both laughed.

"You don't even know what we look like." Luke taunted. "Is it the masks? Do they turn you on? Is it the mystery?"

"It's cute." Kieran chimed in.

From behind, a hand came up and gripped your jaw to pull you closer before crashing his lips against yours. Your tongues brush against each other. It was so dirty and messy in contrast to how light and sweet his touch remained on your cheek. It was so intoxicating... Suddenly, the rough rope wasn't digging into your wrists anymore and you couldn't help but reach behind and find your hand in Kieran's soft hair in an effort to keep in close as he took your breath away. Luke's slender fingers found their way further down, teasing your entrance with light touches that had you whining against the other's lips as you desperately searched for a way to satisfy the growing heat inbetween your legs.

"She's being so good... Taking us both and not running away." Kieran pulled away from your lips to tell his brother. "We don't have much time, hurry up for her sake at least."

The sensation of two digits plunging into you while his thumb rubbed against your clit had you moaning as you threw your head back against the other's shoulder. You were so pathetically desperate for them. You let out little whimpers and moans which each thrust in and out of her fingers. It started so agonizing slow before speeding up and you couldn't but try to chase the feelings with your hips. You could feel Kieran's hard-on from behind and every move from you was torturous. Despite his discomfort, he continued to nibble and lick on the sweet spots of your neck as he ran his hands up and down your body. All of your pleasure was interrupted by a phone ringing, coming from the boy behind you.

"It's Sylus."

"Shit."

Luke took his hand out of your pants so quickly. You sighed in disappointment, it felt like you had a pool in your underwear. It was so cold the way the fabric sat against you. You found yourself clenching around nothing once more. You felt fingers from Kieran against your lips.

"Suck." He whispered the demand in your ear.

Without a thought, you followed the ordered as he picked up the phone. Not even paying attention to the phone call happening behind you.

"We'll be there as soon as possible, Boss."

The sound of the phone disconnecting was heard. It was brief but the silence in the air was so thick. You released his fingers with a 'pop'

"What did he say?" Luke questioned.

"He's not coming, something came up." The other answered.

"So we have more time with her."

"We can't be suspicious but a little. So, move."

Kieran got up, leaving you dazed as you heard him shuffling around next to you. He ordered his brother to move you over. You felt hands run over your clothed thighs.

"Do you want to cum, princess?” He asked.

”Please…” You cried, begging for a release of any kind.

Still blind, in the matter of seconds you were exposed from the waist down. Cloth could be felt against your skin rather than concrete. Cool air hit your core. Your legs fell apart instantly, pleading for some type of stimuli in between. Hands gripped your thighs as more shuffling could be heard. You fully expected to feel a hand once more but the presence of warm breath hit you. A long, slow strip was licked up your heat that caused you to let an embarrassing high pitched moan. A few kitten licks followed. You felt fingers tease your folds, picking up slick before falling deep into you. A tongue lapped at your bud in such a delicious way as the digits instead you slowly build up pace. You squirmed in other’s lap, mouth agape with small whines and sinister moans escaping every now and again. You grabbed at Luke who was now behind you in an attempt to ground yourself as you humped his brother’s tongue in desperation.

“With the way you act at just at some fingers and tongue…” He started as he held your hands tighter. “I can’t wait to see how wild you’ll go on my cock… You’d look so pretty taking all of me.”

You whimper in response. The lust was insatiable at this point and like a possession.

“Wanna cum—So bad—I want more.” You whined out. “I want both of you inside of me… Please.”

Kieran came to a halt which cause you to collapse weakly as you breathed heavy.

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re getting ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” Kieran asked, the sound of a belt buckle becoming undone and dropping to the ground. “Can you really take both of us, let alone me?”

”Fuck me, please!” You cried out. “I wanna be filled up so bad.”

It felt painful, them constantly building you up with no release. You were ready to lose it if you hadn’t already. You laid there, helplessly in silence waiting for something to happen. The lack of touch was unbearable but you still feel them around you. A hand came to touch your thigh and move it upward, exposing you to the hair once more.

Something hard and warm rubbed against your folds finally. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing soon enough you’ll have what you’ve been craving.

”It’s not fair that you get her first.” One whined, obviously Luke.

”Maybe you shouldn’t have been such a tease then.” Kieran retorted. “I’m just giving her what she asked for.”

The head of his cock throbbed against your clit. The feeling disappeared within moments, a thumb came to make gentle motions on your bud as you finally felt the tip enter you. He tenses until he reaches the hilt and feel him relax against you as he falls forward to rest his forehead on your shoulder just for a moment. He lets out a breathy grunt in your ear.

”So fucking tight.” He whispered.

Heat radiated off of him. His words unintentionally make you clench around his member causing him to let out a high pitch moan in your ear. He ruts into you so deeply, your head rolls back into his brother’s lap. The steady pace of him hitting all the right areas within your walls had you screaming and shaking with pleasure as you encourage him to keep going in between out of breath moans.

”More—Harder—Faster…” You begged, you hand resting against his abdomen, the touch sending shocks of pleasure straight down into his cock.

”Whatever you want, princess.”

Kieran’s hands come up to grab your waist to lift you up against him, snapping his hips against yours as the sounds of skins slapping against each other echoed around you. Your mouth fell agape once more as you whined out almost pornographically. Your eyes rolled back behind the blindfold as he reached deep within you, hitting everything so perfectly.

So lost in your own world with Kieran, you had forgotten about the other masked man before you felt his lips against your ear.

”Will you help me out, sweetheart?” He asks, softly. “You‘re doing so well…”

You could only imagine how painful it must’ve felt as you reach out toward him. Your hand traveling over his body until it rested on the restricted bulge that you rubbed over causing him to hiss. The familiar sound of a belt becoming unbuckled could be such. You were shocked to feel something soft touch your lips.

”Suck me off, please.” He pleaded with a moan.

He’d be lying if he said seeing you suck his brother’s fingers off while he was on the phone didn’t do something to him. The way your tongue swirled around his fingers and the drool around your lips made him feel so primal almost.

His voice… The way he begged and asked so politely, it went straight to your core and instinctively your tongue came out to lick over the slit before your lips wrapped around his tip, giving him a light suck as little sighs of relief spilled from him. You release it, a string of salvia still connecting between the two of you. You lick the underside of his shaft from the base up that caused a jolt in him before you eagerly take all of him in your mouth.

Taken back, he lets out a long moan and pulls your hair back as he watches the way you bob your head up and down on him. He throws his head as he can’t help but buck his hips into your mouth at the sight of you getting fucked out.

His pace quickened. You choked a bit as his cock hit the back of your throat. Jaw aching, tears pricked your eyes. You moaned against him as Kieran is ramming into relentlessly, one hand rubbing circles into your clit that slowly accelerated while the other found its way under your shirt and bra to squeeze your nipple.

“Oh fuck, Y/n.” You heard Luke curse, his hips began to falter against your nose.

He speeds up for a few seconds, hitting the back of your throat without a care beside his own pleasure before he slows down. A warm, thick liquid hits your tongue. As hot cum fills your mouth as a reflex you swallow it all. The only evidence left being the little bits of cum that spilled over lips.

“Such a good girl…” Luke moaned before he wiped the cum away from your mouth.

He grabbed your face to leave a kiss on your lips, tasting the saltiness left over from him. It was oddly sweet considering what just happened prior. You sighed against his lips, swiping your tongue along his bottom lip before his lips parted to let your tongues meet one another.

Pants and heavy breathing filled the air as Kieran still fucked into you. You moaned into the other’s mouth as he got dangerously close to your sweet spot, the stimulation on your clit intensifying it all. His thrusts began to become more erratic, the friction on your bud increasing. You cried out as he abused that spot inside you.

”Fuck yes, yes, yes!” You screamed, going crazy as Luke held you.

You felt yourself getting closer and closer, reaching out for Kieran in front of you holding onto his waist as plowed into you. You felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, letting out a pathetically long, high-pitch moan. You withered in Luke’s arms as he kissed up and down your neck as you made an attempt to drag out your orgasm as long as possible on the other’s length.

The way you grind yourself and squeeze against him sent him over the edge. His hips slowed as you felt the sensation of warm cum coat your walls that had you letting out gasp. Kieran leaned down, leaving a long bit deep kiss on your lips as he finished his final thrusts before he pulled out. You winced at the sudden feeling of emptiness within you and the lose of the other behind you. Cum started to leak out of you and drip down your thighs and onto the cloth beneath. You lay there against hard surface, catching your breath.

“So pretty.” You heard one of them mumble.

You didn’t expect your vision to come back so quickly. Looking around, you found them both dressed with their masks back on. You felt something swipe over your thigh, realizing it was the thing just around your eyes now wiping up the mess made. You reached out to grab the man’s wrist in an effort to stop him.

”You didn’t get a turn.” You said, weakly.

”Another time, princess.” He laughed. “You’re too considerate.”

He got done cleaning you up as best as possible, discarding the soiled items while the other help you stand up and get dressed.

“How can you tell us apart?” Kieran asked as you stepped back into your shoes.

”Your voices are different…” You told.

”Whose do you like better?”

It’d had been difficult some time since you entered the N109 Zone. You met Sylus, leader of Onychinus. The man was intimidating and looking into his eyes had you feeling like he knew everything about you. A voice would appear in your head whenever you met his gaze. It was quite odd and against your own wishes, you ended up shooting the guy and being knocked out for a day.

You wondered, could he tell what his servants just did to you? Could he tell how much you enjoyed it and wanted something to happen again? No way… If it was that much an issue like the twins made it seem to be messing around with you. You wouldn’t have woken up with both of them looking at you.

You found yourself spending most of your time with Sylus when he was awake. However, when he was asleep you always found yourself with Luke and Kieran for hours on end… Their boss would be sleeping in the room next to theirs while they had you taking one of them from behind as the other sat in front of you, holding your face and telling you how good you were being before they switched.

You began to realize they were very different in the realm of sex. Luke would always praise you but Kieran, he liked to degrade you. Luke liked to edge you, the way you fell apart on him after all the built up gave him a sense of pride. He was usually more gentle with you and his pacing to get to your orgasms while his brother would rail you and overstimulate you, loving the way you’d become a drooling mess. Their stamina was insane

You found yourself under Kieran who held your wrists as he fucked up into you one night. Luke massaged your clit with one hand as he stroked his own length with the other from the side. You were litter with little love bites from the both of them. The bed frame creaked against the wall adding to the excitement of Sylus finding out and walking in the scene.

Your eyes rolled back at the idea as you bit your lip to suppress a moan from slipping pass. The brutal, quick thrusts stopped and turned into long, drawn out ones that hit you hard once Kieran did snap his hips into you. You let out a small moan at the uncharacteristic thing of him.

”We want to hear you.” He said.

”But Sylus…” You sighed out at the feeling of his hips meeting yours before slowly being dragged out.

He chuckles, “I’m inside of you right now. I can feel you clench around me every time the bed frame creaks. I feel you every time you can hear him stir in his sleep and how you relax when he goes back to snoring. You like the idea of him knowing and seeing you like this, don’t you?”

You shook your head against the pillow. A sharp motion of his hips had his tip reach that spot inside you that had you yelp with no way to cover your mouth.

”You’re lying.” He said. “You want him to see you all filled up with our cum, all fucked out and dumb from us. You want him to see what a slut you are and you want him to treat you the same way.”

A clench around his shaft at the words was just a confirmation before he started back up with his relentless pounding into you that had you whining as you approached your orgasmed and found yourself under the other for the nth time that day.

They seemed to pick up on much more than their boss. Whenever the two of you got home from somewhere, they could tell when Sylus did something that unintentionally got you hot and bothered. He wasn’t going to take care of it so they were always so kind to do so. Sometimes so kind to try and recreate what happened with a twist.

“Relax. You can handle it.” Luke whispered into your ear as he aligned himself with your entrance.

He opened your palm with his hand before intertwining your fingers with his. It was much more gentle than the encounter with Sylus and also Kieran’s recreation but maybe gentle was the you need to end this session with them as soon this time would need to come to an end for the sake of normality.

A few hours of sleep was never enough time for recovery from the twins. You were barely able to walk normal out into the dining room were Sylus and them all sat eating a meal. The boys snickered to one another and even teased you about it in front him which was odd considering they were the ones wanting to hide it. The man with white hair and piercing eyes never said anything or even batted an eye at their teasing. You’d blush about it still and further in the day you’d be annoyed with the little pranks they’d pull on you whenever their boss was around.

You always got distance during the day but at night they’d always start luring you back with kisses and promises of pleasure. However the next time, in their room, they told you they only reason they did it was so nothing seemed suspicious. Whenever they had guest they’d tease and mess with them in the way they did in front of Sylus. You were the only guest they teased and messed with in other ways. They didn’t want to bite the hand that feeds them.

Once you were aware of this, you started to give as good as you get. You'd pull Kieran around the corner asking to show him something and once hidden behind a wall you'd grab his hand just to wrap your lips around his fingers and such while looking up at him with doe eyes. Sylus quite literally always in the next room eating or doing something else at a leisurely pace. with the potential of him catching you both. The first time stunned him but it almost became a game of how many times you could do it. It didn't stop there, sometimes you'd pull Luke away to make out with him. The other started to get jealous that you weren't taking him behind a wall to kiss and they'd start to fight over who got to sneak away with you which you'd smile at.

Other times it was one of them sneaking their hands down your panties as you tried to stay as quiet as possible while bucking in their hand or them getting on their knees and pull your shorts and underwear aside to get a taste and lick you up and down as you covered your mouth with your head thrown back. The rest of the time, it was their turn where you'd take one of them away and end up on your knees for them, a hand in your hair always guiding you at a pace they selected as they bucked their own hips accordingly or your hand would be wrapped around their length as their masks came to rest just above your lips allowing you hid their moans from the mere feets away.

It wasn’t always sex, they knew you needed a break with the way they pushed you. Sometimes, it was just talking on their bed or playing a game. They refused to take off their masks no matter what you did or said. You became familiar with only the sight of their pink lips as they would only lift their masks so far off. It was the one thing you hated while also loving it. Seeing them in their masks as they were deep into you, their own grunts and moans leaking out did something to you and you had no idea why. But if you wanted to be kissed anywhere by either of them at all while they gave countless orgasms, you’d have to be blindfolded or one would have to cover your eyes. They always refused and they never told you the reason.

”Why do I never get to see your faces?” You whined as Luke’s fingers traced shapes up and down your arms as you laid between him in Kieran.

”You like the masks.” He said, softly. “We don’t want to ruin what you like.”

“I would like you both either way.” You admitted.

With the amount of times the both of them had flipped you into different positions, fucked you in multiple parts of the estate and had finished in you, you think the would’ve realized that by now.

“Who would you like more?”

Maybe it was the mystery of it. It killed you because it felt like the final barrier between you all. You wanted to see their faces contort in pleasure as you sink down on them. You wanted to see them try to hold back their own noises of bliss. You wanted to see them desperate for you in their entirety.

The best you get to that was pinning Luke to the bed one night. While riding him, your hand snaked up to his throat to squeeze lightly. A choked moaned came threw which had you smirking. Your other hand rested on his shoulder as you bounced yourself up and down on his shaft, giving him a show as you let out whines and little phrases of encouragement to him while out of breath that him twitching inside of you as you tried to speed up.

You weren’t on your high horse for long before Kieran came and lifted you off only to have you sink down on him. You’re back to his rest while on his lap, he held your legs wide open. Planting his feet into the mattress, he used his momentum to fuck into you as your mouth hung open, letting out pitiful gasps. The other now in front of you, knowing exactly what you want in that moment as one of his hand reached to rub your bud while the other situated his mask just above his lips so he could comfortably kiss you and swallow your noises.

”Such a good cum slut.” He snickered as he filled you up to brim.

You hated how much you loved it. The feeling of being so full but also empty. You hated how much you loved them being the reasons behind all your orgasm.

He knew what you liked. They both did by the way your walls would wrap even tighter around them whenever they did something or said something new.

As much as they liked those incredibly intimate moments with you, they liked just being with you, knowing more about you as a person. They were attached you and began to wonder what they’d do when you had to leave because that time was coming sooner or later with that auction approaching. They didn’t let you know but they were already planning rendezvouses to Linkon for you.

Sylus set you up on a little mission to find a broach he hid somewhere. However, they saw you be thrown out of his room multiple times within the last few hours and saw you disappear behind the doors again recently. You hadn’t been seen again so maybe it was a good thing for you but when you opened the door they could hear the shower running.

They looked at each other as the door clicked closed, silently hoping to one another that it wasn’t time to cross that road just yet… However, it wasn’t longer after that they heard the door swing open.

”Leave. I’m going to bed.” A deep voice sighed as a thud could be heard before the door slammed shut.

You were cursing under your breath as you entered the study. You threw yourself on the couch. A notepad rest in your lap, scribbling a way in it angrily as your grumbled to yourself, unaware of the twins’ presence in the room with you.

“You're pulling your hair out over this, huh?” Kieran asked, gently, catching your attention. “If you want to do something, maybe we can help you.”

You looked up to see him sitting on the desk, looking at you over his shoulder while his brother sat in a chair next to him, his chin resting in his hand.

“What do you mean?” You poured.

”If you want to conquer our boss's heart, you'll have to use a different approach.” Luke informed you while leaning back in his chair before pulling out a book and opening it to cite something."For some people, they get bored once they have everything. So only those who dare to challenge their authority can catch their interest."

He closed the book, resting it on the table as you walked up to take it in your hands.

"When you're dealing with such a person, you bow down and submit or take them out in one go.” Kieran picked up where his brother left off. “In other words—“

A pair of handcuffs and gun where thrown on the surface before you, leaving you puzzled.

“Strike when they’re off guard.” They said in unison.

”Boss is the least guarded when he's sleeping.” Kieran told you.

”You only have one shot. Don't waste this chance. Just do it!” Luke encouraged you. “You’re blushing… What happened in there?”

Part of you hoped, he wouldn’t noticed. It didn’t help when the other reached out to you.

”You’re so warm too…” Kieran pointed out. “You’re in the mood, aren’t you?”

“Yes…” You felt guilty at the confession. “I went in when he was taking a shower and then he walked out in just a short towel. He just had to catch me eavesdropping too and then he basically tied me up with his evol and I’m tired of it.”

They chuckled at you as your cheeks appeared brighter. Usually now, you’d be taken care of for hours but as they walked up to you all they did was pull up their masks a bit to leave kisses on both your cheeks.

”You don’t have much time.” Luke reminded you. “As I said, you have to take your chance now. I promise to take care of you later once you get what you need.”

He left a gentle kiss on your forehead.

”One more for good luck.” Kieran said before leaving a kiss on your lips.

They put their masks back down as they saw you walk away. The door closed behind you and energy in the air shifted immediately once you no longer stood there with them.

“You know what we just did, right?” Kieran asked his brother.

”I know, unfortunately.” Luke sighed.

Sylus did not like being handcuff to his bed by you in attempt to get the broach. The gun was only full of confetti, a mortifying betrayal.

”You’re so gullible, kitten.” The man snickered.

At least you got the broach though.

Your clothes laid discarded on the floor. The bed creaked, the sounds of screams and pants filled the air alongside skin slapping. Sweat covered your body and cum started to cake your thighs. You don’t know how long you had been there or how many times Sylus made you cum around his fingers, tongue and cock.

Overstimulated, the brushing of his robe tickles you with every thrust that had you letting out quiet whines. You laid there with your face against the mattress and ass up in the air. Sylus’ hands gripped your hips so hard to bring you back on him, hard. Your walls snug around him as you cried out for more. His hand grabbed your jaw to lift your head up as his thrust got harder against you.

“So eager, sweetie.” He teased you. “You were never disgusted by me, were you? You were just mad I didn’t fuck you. You could’ve just said something. I would’ve gladly taken care of you sooner. How many rounds have we’ve gone and you’re still not tired? So pathetic and desperate.”

You let out a helpless moan in response, finally opening your eyes long enough to look back at the white haired man. However, something out of the corner of your eyes caught your attention. You’d know those masks anywhere and they were peaking out from the doorway, watching you. You froze up a little bit as you noticed them but you knew deep down you liked the fact that they were there watching, with no way to do anything. You liked it even more when you could see the both of them with bulges in their pants.

Nothing would ever be true payback but you had to try at least…

You got up weakly, the arms shaking underneath you as Sylus continued.

“Wait.” You panted. “I want to try something.”

His thrusts slowed only for him to be able to put more force in them. You cried as you collapsed forward the mattress.

”Don’t tell me what to do, sweetie.” He grunted, bitterly.

His pace picked up again. Sore and weak, you mustered up all your strength to pull yourself flush against him. You’re back now against his bare, muscular torso. You threw your head back on his chest as you used his sides as a way to pick up momentum to match his thrusts whatsoever.

You looked at him with doe eyes as you gasped for air, absolutely letting yourself get lost in the pleasure while repeatedly sinking on him. Your eyes rolled back as he used the opportunity to leave bites on your exposed neck already sprouting red marks. You looked back at the door way, the twins still there and looking in as they watch you act like you’re getting the best sex of your life.

You let them see the way you throw yourself back on him as you call out of his name breathlessly and begged to cum. Something about knowing they were watching as you stretched around the man that held power over them did something unexplainable to you. He grabbed onto your hips tightly, his tongue now brushing against yours as you whined into his mouth at his thrusts becoming more erratic and rough.

You forgot they were there… Your eyes not so much as glancing at them enraged them as well as the uncomfortable feeling in between their thighs that would have no resolve. They both stormed down the hall, away from Sylus’ room but it didn’t matter. They could still hear you scream his name and moans which made their blood boil in a way it shouldn’t of.

You don’t remember falling asleep under the black silk sheets that belonged to Sylus. The white haired man was fast asleep next to you. Everything felt oddly clean… You do vaguely remember cleaning you up afterward, letting you shower and borrow a sweater off his. He brought you to bed after, the sheets fresh. It was unexpected of him, uncharacteristically sweet of him. You fully anticipated him telling you to get out as soon as he used you but he didn’t.

Maybe you were wrong about him.

You slipped out of his bed. The lost of warmth next to him made him stir a bit in his sleep. You look at him to make sure he doesn’t wake up as you quietly start on a mission to sneak out of his room. When you go to turn your attention to the door, Luke and Kieran stand in front of you all of a sudden. It takes you aback for a moment and then you remember how pissed off you are at them. You immediately push pass them and they follow shortly behind you into the hallway.

”Hey, where are you going?�� Luke asked.

”To my room.” You respond, rather bitterly. “Leave me alone.”

”We’re sorry.” Kieran sighed.

His words stopped you as you slowly turned around to glare at the twins who looked rather guilty.

”So you did know?” You scoffed. “God, I was really hoping you didn’t because then it’d be so much easier. I’m so fucking mad at you both!”

”He only told us so much so not really…”

“We didn’t know it was going to happen.”

”Only a feeling, huh? And you didn’t even care to share that me? You’re both suppose to be the ones I’m closest to. How am I suppose to trust you two if you don’t tell me things?”

“We want to! But he could tell we want to say something to you and we just couldn’t… You know how he is. We’re sorry again, Y/n. We can’t say that enough...”

The way they stood there with their heads down. Truthfully, you couldn’t be mad at them. You loved them too much. They knew you want Sylus at some point anyway.

“Make it up to me.” You demanded.

”Huh?” They asked in unison.

”You heard me.” You said.

”How?”

“Like you haven’t done it before. I know seeing another man in me ticked you both off. At least, I hope it did so you both learn your lesson.”

They nodded which had you smiling before they ran over to you to lift up their masks and exchange kisses before take you to their room. You were thrown on their mattress in the matter of seconds after the door opened. A familiar blindfold came to cover your eyes as you heard both their masks come to rest on their nightstand. Your body became hot with kisses sernaded by the both them, long licks over the right spots. Their hands roamed over your body, carress certain parts, gripping and massaging the others which had you gasping between long kisses you shared with the both of them.

You felt one’s hand come to rest against your heat over your panties that whined at at as the other’s hand lifted up the knitted sweater over your chest. You felt a pair of lips wrap itself around your nipple, teeth lightly brushing against it that you had you arching up. A brief slurping sound of the bud being sucked could be heard before you felt the unknown twin start to lap at it with his tongue. The hand continued to rub against you at such an agonizing slow pace. Your essence starting to leave a dark spot on the cloth and coat his fingers slighly. You whined at the sudden lost of friction but was presently surpised to feel a kiss on top of your underwear causing you to jolt and buck your hips at the stimulation.

Most definitely Luke...

Right as you felt a finger hook around the soaked cloth of your panties, it stopped.

"Stop, I have an idea." He told his brother before you heard shared, indistinct whispers exchanged between the both of them.

High of lust, you didn't fully process them lifting you up and moving elsewhere. That was until you found yourself on a much harder surface. Your underwear came off in a swift motion. Your thighs found a familiar place on what was presumably Luke's shoulder as he dragged you closer to him. The blindfold came off, your eyes squinting as they adjusted to the increase in light around, Looking around, you saw the sheets on the bed in front of you bunched up. Your eyes widened as you saw the tuffs of white hair peak out from the sheets. You were in Sylus' room, on his couch. The tongue leaving a sudden stripe over you had all the worry disspate for a moment as you clenched around nothing, biting your lip yearning for more. Luke teases you on his tongue, never quite hitting the spot you need but getting so close which has you throwing your head back on the couch. You find Kieran behind the couch, his hands running over you shoulders passed the bunched up sweater to gently pinch your nipples between his fingers. You thrashed against the couch, grinding against the other's tongue, the beak of his mask that concede his identity, digging into you as you watched the bed occupied by a sleeping Sylus in front of you with hooded eyes.

"What a slut." Kieran degraded you, the beak of his mask running up the side of your neck as he whispered in your ear. "Your still wearing his sweater while two different people pleasure you... In his room where he could wake up any moment and see how desprate you are to let annyone ruin you."

You felt the flutter in your core at his words, Luke focuing more at the way his long flicks your bud in-between your legs. You grab the top of his head, tongue now flat against you to let you grind on his tongue until he can taste your sweet release on him as you shake, mouth agape as you let out heavy breaths. He comes up from between your thighs, his chin covered in liquid as he leans in allowing you to taste yourself on him.

"What's next, princess?" He asked, smile on his lips that peeked out from under the mask, chin still covered in your essence.

"I need you inside of me..." You shamelessly confessed.

They were trying to make it up to you so you knew they’d just give in today to make you happy.

”Which one?”

You saw an opportunity to mess when with them.

”I want Luke.” You said as you grabbed onto Kieran behind you.

They looked at each other, probably puzzled because it never mattered how dumb they fucked you, you’d always know the difference between them. However, they didn’t say anything as the other came to sit down on the couch.

You wasted no time in straddling his lap once he took a seat. You took his hard cock into your hand and lined up with your entrance before sinking down abruptly causing him to let out a small grunt as you did, a hand coming to rest on your waist. Unexpectedly for him, your hand wrapped around his throat. You bit your lip as you tightly squeeze it. You didn’t anticipate a loud moan to leave him as you looked back to make sure Sylus was still asleep. You didn’t expect to feel him twitch inside of you and grab at your waist as an attempt to bring you closer.

Kieran never let you take control. You didn’t expect him to like it, you didn’t think you’d get away with it either. You thought he was going to flip you over onto the couch and without regard to the others in the room, just fuck you into the sofa. Yet, he was still under you, letting you rock back and forth for your own pleasure.

The lack of powerfulness with Kieran turned you on even more. Your other hand came to rest on his shoulder to aid you and bouncing up and down on his shaft that his head lolled back on the back of the couch. His fingers digged into your skin as you could hear him try to control his volume. His thighs tensed under you ever so often, his tip twitching inside of you every time your walls hugged him tighter.

”And you call me a slut.” You chuckled bitterly into his ear, his hands freezing. “Yet, you’re loving the fact that I’m in control, fucking you in front of your sleeping boss and we could be caught at anymore. You’re the whore.”

”You knew it was me?” Kieran choked at as your grip on his throat became tighter causing him to moan helplessly.

He always called you a slut while Luke always told you were a good girl.

”Payback.” You smirked. “Now, be a good boy and cum for me, hmm?”

He took this as a sign to grip onto your waist, thrusts into you by his own accord. Moans and grunts escaped his lips as you occasionally squeezed the sides of his throat even tighter, ones that went straight to your core that caused your walls to hug him even tighter. You could feel his pace shorten and become inconsistent, knowing he was close.

”I’m going to cum…” He whimpered out, stroking your ego to see him like this.

”Hmm,” You hummed, your other hand sneaking behind the mask to grip at his hair as you felt him approach the edge. “Not in me you’re not.”

You got up too quickly for him to process. He whined as thick, white ribbons spurted out and dripped down his shaft and onto his thighs. He desperately bucked up into nothing. He heaved out as his cock twitched, releasing the last of his seed.

You crawled over to Luke who sat on the other side of the sofa. He was so lost in the pleasure he was given himself as he thrusted upward into his fist as he moaned quietly. The way he squeezed himself ever so often with his hand cover in precum was reminiscent of teasing, like he was trying to the milk the longevity of it. He didn’t realize you were there until he felt you between his legs. The way you looked up at him so sweetly but also so lustful, he swore he could’ve bust right then and there.

”I want you to cum in me.” You whispered to him, in a low sensual tone.

”You don’t have to tell me twice.” He sighed, blissfully.

You two swapped places. Your head now laid against the armrest of the sofa as he situated himself between your thighs. He separated your folds before positioning himself at your entrance. He slowly bottom out in you causing you both let out sighs of relief. Your eyes rolled back at the feeling of being full. You grabbed at the armrest behind you as Luke started with a firm thrust into you. He pulled up the knitted sweater that still adorned your body, just over your chest to see the way your breasts bounced up at every meeting of his hips against yours. You could feel the way he somehow got harder at the sight of it like you hadn’t been in this position countless times. The scene of you taking him so well as your mouth hung agape, your eyes looking at him so desperate for more motivated him to keep up with sharp and hard thrusts into you.

You looked over at Sylus’ bed where he somehow remained asleep despite the wet sounds mixed with skin against skin right across from him. The only difference being you could now see his sleeping face as he flipped over. The idea of him seeing you like this… You just couldn’t get over it for some reason. Luke felt you squeeze around him and saw you looking at Sylus. His hand came to your chin to turn your attention to him.

”Hey, look at me, princess.” He breathed, the masking moving to the side to leave a sweet kiss on your lips. “So dirty… Loving the idea of him waking up to you getting fucked out by his henchmen in his room. Such a good slut, taking me while he’s just a few feet away.”

You let out a whiny moan as melted underneath his touch at his words. He never called you that before but the small praise mixed in made you go crazy. You clench around him as he picked up the pace in you. Your hands flew to his waist to bring him closer to you with your head thrown back on the arm rest. Moans of ours filled the empty space along with the noises of your bodies syncing with each other.

He collapsed forward, caging you in his arms as he ruts into you. Kisses littering your neck along with his familiar praises in your ear and his grunts that fueled you. You look over his shoulder at the other across the couch.

His cock in his palm. Pathetic strokes from the base up. The white liquid acting a lubricant as he tries to speed up but whines out at the sensitivity of it all. You enjoyed the idea of him touching himself at the thought of you so desperately a little too much. You always liked to see each one alone, lost in their own world as they moaned out your name when they thought you weren’t there. They never got mad when you walked in on them or happened to see. Truth to be told, they loved letting you see how much they needed you. It often turned into times alone with each respective twin that were never uttered to the other because jealousy ran deep when it came to you.

Luke could tell you weren’t paying attention to him like he asked. He felt hurt as you clenched around him knowing fell well you were looking at Kieran. The kisses ceased immediately and you lost the feeling of him inside of you that made you cry. He sat up on the couch, pulling you into his lap and had you sink down on him. With no time to really process, you felt a harsh thrust meet your hips sending you toward. Your hands gripped the coffee table in front of you. You looked up to see you now had the view of Sylus in bed once more. Your walls hugged Luke’s length as the sight hit you.

His hands grabbed your hips to allow himself to pound into you as your heart raced in your chest. You wanted to scream out so badly at him hitting the right spot inside of you over and over again. It felt too good, you were going crazy as you trembled and clawed at the coffee table for any way to ground yourself. His arms wrapped around your waist from behind. He hugged you into his chest and felt familiar lips along your neck. You could feel his cheek nuzzle against your hair and don’t quite remember a point in which he could’ve removed his mask.

”If only he could see how good you’re being for me.” Luke groaned softly into your ear. “You’d love that though. You’d put on a little show for him just like you did for us earlier. You’re so filthy… You’re our litle slut, aren’t you, hmm?”

All you do was moan quietly at his words and nod as the way he pulled you back on him made you lose control. It’s like they switched today but something about it was so attractive to you.

“What was that, sweetheart? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He taunted as he slowed which made you whine.

”Yes, Luke!” You breath. “M’need to cum—need you to cum inside of me. Fuck me…”

”You said it, not me.” He chuckled.

He left a light kiss on your cheek before he picked up his pace again. You gasped as one of his arms stayed wrapped around you waist, tightly and his other arm traveled down your body. His fingers found their way to a familiar bud between your legs. As soon as his fingertips started to make circular motions against it, you were seeing stars as he fucked up into you. You panted and whined, your eyes fixed on Sylus sleeping as you tried to keep your noises to a minimum.

Every time you squeezed around him, he’d let out a satisfied sigh. He whispered praises in your ear, nibbling on your neck and you could feel that familiar knot building up in you. You felt electricity in your body.

”Gonna cum—Gonna cum!” You whined out to which Luke speed up the stroke against your bed and the pace.

You shook as a wave of pleasure washed over you. Instinctively, rocking your hips against him as you whined and your rolled back. Shortly after, you heard him groan and felt hot, thick liquid paint your insides. The feeling had you biting your lip as you rested yourself against his chest. He used your hips to push every taste drop into you. His cum started to drip out of you and onto the couch. His cock slipping out of you do to the loss of friction.

Heavy breathing filled the room and you looked over at Kieran who was even messier than before which had you smiling. Your eyes were covered up unexpectedly as you felt Luke leave a longing kiss on your lips.

“Such a good girl…” He sighed.

“Don’t say things like that unless you want to go another round.” You huffed.

“You’d like it as much as we do.” You could hear the smile in Kieran’s voice. “We should clean and go before the boss wakes up…”

With their masks back on, Luke carried you out of the room while his brother stayed behind. Showered and cleaned up, he let you wear one of his shirts to bed and you slept soundly under the sheets. He watched you from the doorway of the bathroom after his shower, arms crossed as he sighed. He was already missing you.

His brother quietly entered their room.

”He did wake up?” Luke questioned.

”Dead to the world like usual.” Kieran answered. “Kind of impressive all that didn’t wake him up…”

His twin pushed pass him to get to the bathroom, ready to climb into the shower. He stood there looking at you, plagued by the thought that sooner or later you’d have to choose one or none. That idea killed him because no one really won in that situation.

“Hey, Mephisto wasn’t in the room, right?”

Oh shit…

©️ lunacove, 2024

#love and deepspace smut #sylus smut #love & deepspace smut #luke love and deepspace #kieran love and deepspace #luke and kieran #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #love & deepsace x reader #lnds smut #lds smut

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starlostseungmin · 3 months ago

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a chaste madness — bang chan.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　non-idol!chan x gn!reader.

GENRE & WARNING/S:　 fluff?? mild angst, more than friends less than lovers, making out, suggestive, swearing and mentions of alcohol consumption, jealous and kinda obsessive chan, a bit of lee know x reader, let me know if i missed one.

WORD COUNT: 　940

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　consider this as a late birthday fic for chan. don’t forget to reblog and leave a feedback.

You found yourself in a dark, empty hallway far from the post-graduation party being held at the opposite end with your lips colliding with Chan’s. That innocent game came out on an unexpected turn when you were supposed to be having fun and drinking for the last night before you and your friends go on separate ways. Seungmin was a menace at spinning the bottle purposely to end in your direction as a smirk was plastered on his lips when he looked at you. Alas, the casual truth-or-dare game made a compliment to this eventful night.

Feeling Chan’s soft, hot, and plump lips is heavenly. The way it sits perfectly on your mouth had you tasted the blue lemonade he consumed a few moments ago. Your hands were above your head with Chan holding your wrists high as you were being pinned against the wall. Felix being a little drunk was bold enough not to let you choose between the two. Chan wasn’t even playing the game and only sat there to drive you home but he thought about changing plans tonight after getting into this mess.

“Kiss someone around the circle!” Felix announced, with his cheeks being red from all of the alcohol he had.

Well, there was Minho participating and couldn’t stop looking at you then Chan shouldn’t give a flying fuck.

You weren’t dating, but not just friends either and there were several nights you’d spend together lying under the beige duvet naked. Jeongin could hear the sounds of pleasure coming out of Chan’s room twice a week. You weren’t embarrassed anymore but the fact that this relationship isn’t going anywhere but a taken-for-granted situation, you doubted it would step to the next level soon.

The hallway was quiet and the lights were dim. No one would walk by on that path as everyone was so busy letting loose with their shits. Chan’s lips didn’t want to leave yours and he didn’t want to let go either. His kisses were desperate and vexed. Something like jealousy made him do it. His knee rested between the gap of your legs to lock you in as the kiss went deep.

He shouldn’t have been jealous when you went to kiss Minho within seconds but there was this raging urge that made Chan dragged you outside breaking the kiss and made everyone ‘oohed’ at the sight. Minho scoffed while wiping his lips with his thumb, sending a dark glare at your vanishing figures. A coward like Chan who can’t even put a label on it is acting like a kid when he should be a man. The older guy didn’t even know what had gotten into him that he grabbed you by the wrist and exited the room, taking you to where you are now.

Your heart was racing as it created warmth in your chest. The taste of Chan’s lips became intoxicating like the smell of his perfume. You shouldn’t be feeling strange about the kiss when you have had it many times but this is, indeed, the first time he got upset over a game and became territorial.

He moves his mouth more than a gentleman can give as he sighed on your lips with a feeling of excitement and distress. You couldn’t even say a word and just melted into the kiss. Then, he pulled you closer to his body letting your hands roam around his broad back until your fingers reached for his black locks and played with them, earning a soft groan from him.

His hand snaked around your waist as the other one rested on the wall for support with nails scratching the paint. Your knees were going weak as Chan went for a kiss to another and captured your lips with his all over again. Blood rushed to your veins, sending heat and electricity through your whole body. He loved the way you’d respond immediately without questioning him.

How could you when you’re smitten all over him? You like him so much that it doesn’t matter what’s the purpose of this fucking kiss and there you could only hope that he’s thinking more about what you really are in his life. Not just a mere situationship.

His body was pressed intensely against yours making you sigh in his lips as a responseーstill having them connected to his and feeling his hot breath on the tip of your nose. He bit your lower lip and sucked them in before feasting the whole of it. Your hand tightened its grip on his locks and the other one was sitting firmly on his shoulder when you felt his lips go down on your neck, sinking his teeth and nipping your skin.

“Fuck,” You breathed out, throwing your head backーexposing more of your neck for him. He also loved the marks he left as they became red and swollen and yet, he didn’t stop there. His kisses went up to your jaw, then to your cheek and ear making your eyes flutter in response.

“You should know who you belong to.” He whispered gently, yet it was more like a demand than a reminder. In fact, he doesn’t need to worry about that.

“Only when you put a label into it.” You answered trying to push something in him as he looked at you with a sly smirk painted on his lips.

“There’s one way to find out.” He planted a soft kiss on your lips and held your wrist, dragging you to the storage room where you heard the lock click when he closed the door behind him.

It’s going to be an eventful night, indeed.

୨୧‎ 𖹭⠀⁺　───　 @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89 , @lashaemorow , @hanjsquokka , @suebin , @starlostastronaut , @stayconnecteed , @myjisung , @arrasuh

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔��𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

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vagabond-umlaut · 4 months ago

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summer collapsed into fall

summary: gojo satoru has no favourite colour. he feels no need nor interest to have one, either. pairing: gojo satoru x reader [unspecified gender] tags: slight undertones of teacher-student relationship BUT there is NO ACTUAL romance between them; can this be called pining? idk; character study like fic of our sweetest satoru *cries* he deserves sm better; fluff but with a mild serving of angst; wc 0.8k notes: fic title inspired by a quote by oscar wilde; fic inspired by this lovely post i saw on pinterest; jjk isn't mine; loosely related to 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate'; tumblr hates me using dividers hence the new fic format ^_^

satoru doesn't really have a favourite colour.

it's never quite crossed his mind. and even if it has, he has never seen it to be important enough to allow it be anything more than a passing thought, a meaningless thought---it is not like his life will be impeded should he not have a favourite colour, nor is anyone ever going to ask him what it is, so why bother?

but now, as you peer up at him expectantly, having already listed your top five favourite colours and why you love them so, satoru wishes he did bother back then.

he decides to feign confusion.

"what?"

"what what?" you shoot back, eager gaze not wavering one bit, "i just told you my favourite colours; aren't you gonna tell me yours? it's fine even if you have just one, sensei."

but is it fine if he has none?

throwing his watch a quick glance, he turns back to you. then exhales a quiet sigh, tired but the farthest from annoyed, when he sees you're still waiting for his reply... shutting the bus window beside, he turns to lean against it, shifting to face you properly.

and sighs, decidedly noisier this time, "this isn't the type of questions one asks their teacher, y'know? they are too casual, meant more for a friend than for a teacher."

"you got to be the last guy to lecture me about etiquette, sensei," you retort without missing a beat, huffing a quiet, amused laugh.

"and after the time i had to bring you to ieiri-san after you passed out from drinking a bit too much: i guess we're a bit more than a teacher and a student, aren't we, sensei?"

not really... no.

while satoru believes your first point to be a debatable topic, he does not think the two of you are anything but a teacher and a student, no matter how much help you extended to him or will in the future---it's not like he isn't grateful, though. he is; he really, really is---it's just his belief that few acts of kindness do not necessarily cause a friendship between people, and he intends to tell you this very clearly---

but finds he cannot. he simply cannot.

not when you say, still so eager but with an undercurrent so achingly soft that even the strongest wonders if he can handle its weight: "i'm not that bad a friend, y'know---you can ask others if you want; they'll tell you i'm a good friend, not the best but a decent one---"

"why don't you guess what's my favourite colour?"

rude, yes, horribly so. satoru knows, he knows this very, very well. but what can a man do but divert when he's being unsettled by words like the ones you addressed to him, by the tenor you employed for him---

although now that he observes you consider his suggestion, the man wonders if diversion was the right tactic or not.

he could have just lied and told you any random color. he could have chosen to be honest and told you he has no favourite colour like you and probably the rest of the world have.

but no, he doesn't.

satoru does not opt either of the above two painfully simple, painfully easy options. choosing instead to ask you to guess what his favourite colour is... satoru never really anticipates he'll end up being this much more unsettled, thanks to his decision of diversion:

if there was a subtext of a haunting softness in your manners before, the sorcerer reckons it is the text now, typed out in bold letters then underlined and highlighted in neon---you too shift to face him, even moving the bag kept in between to your lap and shifting a bit closer, but still a respectable distance away---only to punctuate your effort with a keen stare, much too gentle, at him.

it's scary, he thinks. yeah, undoubtedly scary. but somewhere in the back of his mind, something says it's also comforting.

many eyes look at satoru throughout the day. they gape, they gawk, they study the man and every small aspect of his person with many different kinds of reasons behind them. but before today, there has never been anyone who has regarded him with this much care, that too for a nonsensical cause like yours...

he wonders, just what are you seeing in him?

just who are you seeing in him?

"it's orange, isn't it?" you exclaim abruptly, leaning a touch forwards with a snap of your pointer and thumb. voice too loud. smile too big. eyes too bright, way too bright---

satoru takes not even one whole second to decide:

he now has one favourite colour.

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #kit posts 📝

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armandaughter · 1 month ago

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Interview With the Vampire + Perfumes

i posted about wanting to make this and people were also curious, so here it is :) i absolutely have no qualifications to be making this. i just love perfumes and iwtv and wanted to combine em!! lmk ur thoughts <3 fyi this gets pretty long-winded and analysis heavy at times

louis de pointe du lac (new orleans/paris eras)

very slow world in my mind. i think he'd gravitate to the warm spice of it and the hints of whiskey. this also smells a bit like incense, which i think is fitting for him. louis' religious upbringing will always inform how i approach him. but this scent also reminds me of the clubs in new orleans, cigars and rich drinks, and that transfers over to him exploring new sides of himself in paris with photography and engaging with art and cafe scenes. i question the inclusion of the balsamic top note, it's actually much more tea-aligned! this is also quite masculine to me, which makes sense as, particularly in nola, he had to be a little overly masculine-- older brother, man of the house after the death of his father, business owner, and a black business owner in an extremely racist setting. i like this for him, i'd even go as far as to say maybe it's not quite masculine enough.

runner-ups: full incense by montale, nothing but sea and sky by une nuit nomade (this one is very bergamont heavy, which i also think he'd like) foreshadow by curatrix (this one is in my rotation rn and i am almost out because i use it SO much. musk, tobacco, incense, cypress)

louis de pointe du lac (dubai)

this one isn't similar to the above at all, but i think it sort of stays in line with what we know of louis in dubai. it's a very fresh scent, with residual fruity and cedar/fig accords snuck in there that are more noticeable with longer wear. this feels performative like most of dubai, put-together and appealing to the senses but deceptive at the end of the day. i think it's still something louis genuinely likes, but i see him, when he's happy, wearing something a bit more explicitly sweet-spicy, less wood-spicy. this is an amalgamation of the above scent and other sweeter, floral accords he'd drift to, but not quite leaning into it the way i suspect he'd be were he actually healed, had he actually confronted his past in full and emerged content with his circumstances.

runner-ups: of true minds by liis (this is inspired by shakespeare's sonnet 116, also smells like sooo complex. floral spicy with a bit of suede) angel dust by fugazzi (cashmere, pepper, bergamont)

lestat de lioncourt

i actually took so long to decide for lestat. after consulting @operahouses (thank you for enduring my lengthy perfume character analysis) i'm happy w this. it's very very floral, mostly rose, with jasmine and iris too. there's also the underlying patchouli and according to what i read, a sort of rosewater wine-y feel about it. walks the line of intense and mysterious with an elegant softness that feels very true to lestat coming off of paris and finding his footing (and the love of his life) in new orleans.

runner-ups: l'olympia music hall by histoires de parfums (floral, also the name is very lestat in the vampire lestat to me) baccarat rouge 540 by maison francis kurkdjian

rockstar lestat

this is zoologist, which literally makes perfumes off of animal scents. i think that is so fucking cool. anyway-- this is a very bold scent that takes the sweetness of the initial perfume i shared and expands upon it with some really interesting notes. there's passionfruit, leather, teakwood, and incense. (INCENSE, which i think he'd intentionally wear for the nostalgia it could potentially evoke in louis!!) but, overall, a very impressive and borderline questionable miasma of smells. because of this, it's startlingly unique. verrrry memorable, which is kind of the desired experience of a rockstar trying to get his ex-husband back.

runner-ups: triumph of bacchus by argos (this one has such an insanely diverse array of accords i feel only he could pull off) do not disturb by vilhelm parfumerie (this leans into femininity a bunch, which i am down for with lestat. also has some questionable accords but again i think this era welcomes that)

armand

so i'm not even going to pretend i'm not projecting with my first choice for him because i am-- press gurwitz 0.3 is soooo criminally underrated. it's got the knockout combo of the cinnamon and vanilla but when the smoky spice of it hits... it HITS! it also isn't overly sweet at all. the vanilla subdues the sweet notes and leaves sort of a smoky yet clean spiciness over time. i think also the idea of him wearing a gourmand scent has a lot of interesting character connotations in it-- wanting to be desired, wanting to be almost edible, to attract that sort of temptation. if not a gourmand, i can see him preferring fresh, clean, sharp scents-- hence the choices for him as rashid.

runner-ups: milk by commodity (amber, firewood, tonka bean; ultimately the marshmallow accord felt a bittttt out of line for him but this scent is GOOD. a pinch sharp but in a way that's striking rather than obtrusive) female christ by 19-69 (eucalyptus, woody, with cashmere and cinnamon at the base notes, emerging the longer the scent is worn)

armand as rashid

this one has a lot going on but i NEED you to stay with me and hear me out. first of all-- there's notes of pineapple here, which i feel are soooo good given the 'honey and pineapple' exchange. there's also a lot of sweetness here and while the 'honey' part isn't explicit, i feel like it's still reminiscent of it. also, who's to say rashidmand doesn't wear honey body oil with this? wouldn't put that past him. otherwise, this is also pretty floral, fresh, and long-lasting. my one flaw is it is intense, especially for his playing as rashid. my defense here is this: he's already gone with the slutty shirts and the speaking out of turn, so a memorable scent doesn't seem suddenly too far, at least not to me. also, the bottom notes like the vanilla stabilize the intensity. for the first hour or two after application, i'm sure this lingers in a room (which is what he'd want) but as it fades, you'd have to be in closer proximity to notice it.

runner-ups: honey & crocus by jo malone london (this is the honeyed scent that could replace the pineapple one, with traces of saffron and lavender included too which go nicely) fleur de délice by reminiscence (VERY herbal and fresh)

daniel molloy (1973)

ok i am pretty sure i'm not the first to say this but he's SO jazz club. to me. this on top of probably perpetually smelling like cigarettes. and i've heard it's more masculine-leaning, with the rum, spice, and tobacco staying on the longest. i think in devil's minion canon armand would also be all over this like a bloodhound. not much else to say aside from boozy and kinda sexy. the kind of thing you'd wear to go out and score drugs or a fatal vampire encounter.

runner-ups: none! i stand by this one. possibly book by commodity, which uses cedar and sandalwood to come shockingly close to putting your nose in a book. also accomplishes a sort of smokiness.

daniel molloy

this is kind of like if jazz club matured a bit. from what i read (i haven't smelled this one) it's very leathery and dry with a slight sweetness at the end. it has some pine and dates in the list of accords, which works for me too. it is also a bit sensual and i think daniel would wear this in dubai to see louis for the first time since '73. not too intense, which i think he'd prefer. @operahouses suggested a new car smell and i STRONGLY agree.

runner-ups: ombré leather (2018) by tom ford (this went too herbal for me to attribute to him, but i still think leather is good for him)

claudia in new orleans

getting into headcanon territory. this scent is sweet, light, and rosy. i'm imagining this is a gift from lestat before things soured. also something to wear before she branched out and developed her own preferences. i personally think this one is a bit strong and just a tad like a bath, but then again it's very clean and satisfying when the initial scent sits for a little. the sugarcane there brings it together too. this would also contribute to the infantilization both louis and lestat force upon her, the shared--whether explicit or implicit- idea that she's theirs, only the 'girl' part of daughter and too young and naive to be the 'woman.' i feel like she'd grow to hate this smell eventually the same way she grew to resent what lestat and new orleans meant for her.

runner-ups: rose of no man's land by byredo (i didn't think the spices fit, but could be that's a stepping stone for her)

claudia (paris)

i haven't tried this scent but i do love curatrix. so i think in a similar way to daniel's progression this is an older, sultry, woody-sweet rendition of what a younger claudia would enjoy. knowing curatrix, it's probably a bit intense, but for a woman duelling with the reality she will not ever be properly seen as a woman, i think it's very fitting! the cloves and tobacco lend age to it while the honey and vanilla sweeten it up a bit, dries down into a suggestion of ginger. i think the name would attract her as well. claudia owns being a vampire-- she loves it, wants so badly to be loved by the coven for loving vampirism, so the idea of fatale is definitely something she would gravitate to in my mind.

runner-ups: hypnotic poison by dior (similar wood themes with a bit of floral and fruitiness mixed in, but mostly, the bottle is cute) carmilla by immortal perfumes (the name, naturally-- also has a blood accord!! was my first choice until i remembered fatale exists)

madeline

gets a classic. i wore this for years before i started to present less feminine. it's clean, floral, sweet, a bit powdery, and stays on forever. not too overwhelming but def alluring. one of thee ultimate femme lesbian choices to me!

runner-ups: immortelle by chloé (still white floral with some tonka snuck in. i like the name for her a lot!)

santiago

i really have nothing to say other than this scent doesn't get very good reviews and it kind of pisses me off and that's perfect for him. def wears way too much of this and it pisses off everyone in the coven. the HEIGHT of gay man who is about to infuriate you.

okay i had a lot of fun doing this. so if anybody else matched my freak ab this i would LOVE to do more.

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h3nderyss · 25 days ago

Text

you as nct 127's 9th member - part 2 (headcanons)

pairing: ot8 x fem!reader . . . masterlist . . . 127 (part 1) dream ver wayv ver genre: fluff a/n: requested part 2! romantic headcanons for each member if you were the 9th member and only girl in 127! u can imagine if ur in a secret relationship or not! (can u tell i got carried away with taeyong.. then ended up running out of ideas.)

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

taeyong

he'd remember the little things about u, if u once told him a snack you liked, expect him to show up w it the next day

handwritten notes from him end up on ur mirror, simple things like just saying "fighting!!"

he'd keep a protective eye on you during rehearsals and help u fix ur form if ur too tired that day

encourages your ideas! in group activities he'd ask you, "what do you think?"

he'd hang around with you after practice ends, after all the members left

especially if it becomes too late and u end up napping in the practice room on the couch, u best bet he'd STAY there

he'd surprise u with small gifts, leaving snacks or ur fav drink at ur spot during practice without saying anything

if both of u are accidentally in the dance room or recording studio overnight, u guys would watch the sunrise together!

in his solo album he'd write songs about u 100%

and you'd also probably have a few vocal adlibs

OR MAYBE he'd have a song featuring you! literally couple of the year.

if you're having a hard day, expect taeyong to be soo comforting

leader instincts KICK IN.

saying things like "you're doing so well," or "take 5 minutes, at least"

he'd gaze at u through the mirror during dance practices

he'd be playfully jealous like "do you compliment the others as much as you do to me?"

fans would call u king & queen neo

johnny

def playfully tease u, if there was a goofy dance move for a part of choreo he'd go "you're the only one to make this look cool."

expect spontaneous adventures with johnny

he KNOWS ur preferences, if u were getting coffee or any drink tg, he'd order for u literally knowing what u want

mind reader??

u will NOT be overworking. not on his watch. "nope, it's break time, come on."

fills his phone with candid shots of u!

car rides are karaoke sessions atp. less singing too, more laughing

SUCH a playful protector, since this man is like 6'1 you bet he'd act like ur bodyguard

he'd plan dates to underground restaurants he finds online

and goes "i wanted this to be our thing..!"

he'd provide comfortable words like "you're stronger than you realize."

yuta

a man of bold affection, literally tells u straight up "you're the best thing about my day"

during casual convos he'd brush a piece of hair behind ur ear or just hold ur hand tbh

u guys have humour that's reserved for only u two. the members lowkey get confused why u guys just randomly burst laughing

during group travels he'd secretly buy u a souvenir and give it to u when ur back home

has a habit of staring at u during practices and smiles when u notice (this is so cute?????)

enjoys just sitting in silence with u

loves ur company

doyoung

such a classic romantic, surprises u with homemade meals

connnstantlyy reassuring you! "you don't have to be perfect, you're already enough."

guys, his smile is so adorable, pls make him laugh a lot

if u two sit together, expect his hand to intertwine with yours

soft kisses omg

you'd have quiet, intimate dates enjoying each other's company and just be infatuated w e/o

before live performances expect him to hype u the hell up!

he's like a personal cheerleader

he'd post u on his story a lot

jaehyun

he loves quiet affection like squeezing ur hand under the table to let u know he's there

lowkey feel like you guys would have tons of polaroid pics tg

and of each other

AND photobooth films

and it'd literally just be of u kissing like u guys just can't help urselves

and the deep talks get DEEP

same with taeyong, he'd dedicate his songs abt u

he'd loove seeing ur reactions to his songs too, ESPECIALLY from his new album

yea he'd surprise u with concert tickets for ur fav artists you've mentioned

such a protective aura like in areas with crowded fans, he'd keep his hand on ur waist to make sure ur not going ANYWHERE

movie nights turn into movie naps

jungwoo

he'd love when u play with his hair

he'd be a puppy

but like a really hot puppy too,

genuinely leave u speechless at everything he does bc hey, it's jungwoo?? he's so infatuating

loves to mimic ur reactions just to see u giggle and try to get him back

like i said in part 1 expect emojis when u text, expect him to send gifs too

WILL suddenly hug u out of the blue

literally treasures anything you give him

mark

ur the only person he would genuinely spill all the tea to, about WHATEVER

could be about his own struggles, or insane tea about his friend

softly sings to u, he likes humming and just full on singing, even if he purposely sounds goofy

let's say he accidentally brushes his hand against yours

but he ends up intertwining ur hands as if it was intentional!

i feel like he loves skinship

he'd be cuddled to u any chance he gets

or just resting his hand around your waist A LOTTT

also lots of nicknames he'd call u, sometimes catching u off guard by saying something really cringe

would also write so many songs abt u

haechan

ur the person he'd be the MOST clingy to

we all know how he's so touchy w the members

well, you'd be the #1 person he'd do that to.

out of nowhere he'd surprise u with compliments

actually floods ur phone with memes, pics, random selfies just to make u smile

he loooves giving u back hugs or just going full koala mode

also literally napping on u

u guys would just look like two losers in love, the members being always teasing

but like, he'd actually be insane sometimes and say something to get u riled up. (iykwim.)

or even like, DO something. especially when he dances?

it's like a private show for u, and he knows how that makes you feel.

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pbaz7 · 26 days ago

Text

It’ll Always Be Her Chapter 9

AN: This chapter’s a little spicy as the game returns 🫣. I’ve had a few people ask me about one shots so if you have any ideas for those let me know because I’m open to posting some! Like always leave a live reaction or comment if you can

TW: Harsh/Suggestive language, drinking, confrontation

Word Count: 3.4k

Paige had been all over Azzi lately. It didn’t matter where they were—the blonde didn’t seem to care. She was always whispering things in Azzi’s ear, being extremely affectionate, and flirting incessantly. Azzi’s neck was practically screaming for help which she constantly covers with concealer. Tonight would be no different.

The team, gearing up for the more serious part of their season, decided they needed one more night out before locking in. And, as usual, they found themselves at Ted’s. The entire team was drunk, even the freshmen, who were being slyly handed drinks by their older teammates.

Paige was in rare form. She was glued to Azzi’s side, heavily flirting, touching her every chance she got, and leaning in to whisper things that made Azzi’s cheeks flush. The two of them stood at the bar, teasing one another, drinks in hand, caught in their own little world. Paige’s laughter echoed as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear.

“You know,” Paige murmured, her voice low, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted you more than I do right now.”

Azzi grinned, resting her hand on Paige’s hip. “Careful. If you keep this up, we’re going to have an early night.”

“Promise?” Paige shot back, her eyes dark with playful intent.

Azzi was about to respond when something in the corner of her eye made her freeze. Her grip on Paige’s waist tightened slightly as her jaw clenched. Standing by the entrance was Jess, her sharp gaze cutting through the lively crowd.

“Paige,” Azzi said, her tone more serious now, giving her a small nudge.

Paige pulled back, her brows furrowing. “What is it?”

Azzi subtly motioned toward the door, and Paige followed her line of sight. The moment her eyes landed on Jess, her expression darkened.

Jess, who couldn’t seem to let go of the thought of Paige had an air of smug defiance. She had a mocking smile tugging at the corners of her lips as if to say, Miss me?

Paige’s blood boiled. She could feel Azzi’s protective presence at her side, but her jaw clenched tightly as she took a deep breath.

“That’s bold of her,” Azzi muttered, her voice laced with anger.

“Bold or stupid,” Paige replied, her voice cold. “She really thinks she can just show up here like nothing happened? She needs to know she’s not welcome.”

Azzi smirked, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “I’ve got a better idea,” she said, leaning in close.

Paige raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Azzi placed her hands on Paige’s hips, drawing her in. “Jess always hated how close we were,” she said softly, her voice dripping with suggestion. “Let’s remind her why.”

Paige caught on quickly, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You’re evil,” she whispered, her heart racing with anticipation.

Azzi shrugged, her smirk growing. “She made her bed. I’m just making sure she lies in it.”

Without hesitation, Paige pressed closer, she began whispering in Azzi’s ear, her lips trailing down Azzi’s neck. She kissed the sensitive spot just below her ear, lingering long enough to make Azzi’s breath hitch. Azzi, however, kept her composure the entire time, her hooded eyes locking onto Jess’s with unflinching confidence and a smirk on her face.

Jess’s expression faltered, her smug grin replaced by a subtle eye roll as she lifted her glass in mock indifference. But Azzi could see the tension in her posture, the way her grip on the glass tightened ever so slightly.

“She’s trying not to care,” Azzi whispered, her voice laced with amusement.

Paige smiled against Azzi’s neck, her fingers slipping under the hem of Azzi’s shirt just enough to draw a sharp intake of breath. “Let’s make sure she fails then,” she replied, her tone daring.

Azzi’s smirk deepened, and she leaned back just enough to catch Paige’s gaze. “You realize this is only the start, right?”

“Oh, I know,” Paige said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Once we start, there’s no stopping.”

Azzi laughed, a rich, confident sound that carried over the thumping music. “Good,” she said. “I love a challenge.”

From across the room, Jess’s annoyance was palpable, but she remained rooted in place, her eyes flicking between the two of them.

Paige leaned in once more, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “Your turn.”

Azzi’s smirk didn’t falter as she lifted her hand, gently tilting Paige’s chin upward. Her lips barely grazed Paige’s before pulling back, enough to leave the crowd around them buzzing with speculation.

Jess huffed, turning her head sharply, but she still didn’t leave. She was trying to outlast them, refusing to give them the satisfaction.

Azzi chuckled. “She’s stubborn,” she said.

“So are we,” Paige shot back, her smile devious.

And so the game began. Paige and Azzi both loving a good competition.

…

Paige and Azzi were fully engrossed in their game, pushing boundaries in a way that left little to the imagination. The dim lighting of Ted’s cast a glow over them, but they weren’t concerned. None of the students would dare invade their privacy, and the team who would usually tease them for their PDA, seemed content to watch the drama unfold, some of them even making bets on how far it’ll go.

Azzi was draped over Paige’s lap, her lips brushing against her ear, her teeth occasionally grazing the sensitive skin of her neck. Paige’s usual bright blue eyes had darkened, her gaze flicking between her drink, Azzi, and the few teammates still lingering at their table talking to the blonde.

“I can’t believe how bold you’re being tonight,” Azzi whispered, her breath warm against Paige’s skin.

Paige chuckled lowly, her hand resting possessively on Azzi’s thigh. “You started this game,” she replied, her voice husky. “I’m just keeping up.”

The team, usually quick with teasing remarks, had fallen quiet. KK and Ice exchanged knowing looks, their attention drifting toward Jess, who was trying—and failing—to appear unfazed.

Jess sat stiffly in the corner, her drink barely touched. Her eyes darted toward Paige and Azzi every few seconds, and though she tried to mask her irritation, her clenched jaw and tapping foot betrayed her.

“She’s barely holding it together,” KK murmured to Ice, who smirked.

When Ice and KK stood to grab another drink, Paige’s attention snapped fully to Azzi. Her eyes, now nearly black with intensity, locked onto Azzi’s. Azzi felt a thrill of excitement, recognizing that Paige was on the verge of losing control.

Azzi leaned in closer, her voice a low murmur. “What’s wrong, baby?” she teased, her lips brushing against Paige’s ear. “Can’t take it anymore?”

Paige’s grip tightened on Azzi’s thigh, her breathing shallow. “You’re killing me,” she admitted, her voice strained.

Azzi smirked, her confidence unwavering. “Then stop holding back,” she whispered. “Let it out. Show me what you’ve got.”

Paige’s eyes flickered with a dangerous mix of desire and determination. She leaned in, her lips capturing Azzi’s in a heated kiss that left no room for subtlety. The room around them seemed to fade as their game reached a fever pitch.

Paige’s lips lingered against Azzi’s, their kiss deep and intentional, a deliberate display meant for more than just each other. When they finally pulled back, Paige caught a glimpse of Jess storming toward the bathroom, her face flushed with barely contained frustration.

“She’s trying to compose herself,” Azzi said with a smirk, her voice filled with amusement. “Too bad we’re not done.”

Paige chuckled, her fingers brushing against Azzi’s jaw. “Not even close,” she murmured, her tone dripping with confidence.

Azzi shifted slightly, her hand slipping beneath the hem of Paige’s shirt, her touch light but deliberate. Paige’s breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned in closer, her lips grazing Azzi’s ear.

“You really love pushing buttons, don’t you?” Paige whispered.

Azzi’s smirk widened. “Only when it’s this fun,” she replied.

As Jess returned from the bathroom, her carefully crafted neutral expression slipped when her eyes locked with Paige’s. What she saw twisted something deep in her gut. Paige’s usually bright blue eyes were dark, heavy with a desire Jess had never seen before—not with her.

Paige smirked, then slowly dragged her fingers through Azzi’s hair, letting her hand rest at the nape of Azzi’s neck. The motion was intimate, possessive, and deliberate, and Jess felt the sting of it as though it were meant to cut.

Azzi, noticing Paige’s shift, leaned in closer, her lips grazing the sensitive spot just below Paige’s ear. “She’s unraveling,” Azzi murmured, her voice seductive.

Paige didn’t look away from Jess. “Good,” she replied softly, her tone filled with satisfaction.

Jess’s jaw tightened, and though she tried to mask her jealousy, it radiated off her in waves. She had never seen this side of Paige—uninhibited, completely lost in someone else, not caring what anyone else thought. It was a version of her she had desperately wanted but never managed to reach.

Azzi smirked as she caught the flicker of hurt and anger in Jess’s eyes. “Think she’s realizing she lost?” she whispered, her fingers tracing slow circles on Paige’s thigh.

Paige’s lips twitched into a deeper smile. “She should be, but I don’t think so.”

Jess broke eye contact, her hand gripping the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles turned white. But even as she looked away, it was clear she couldn’t block out what was happening right in front of her.

Paige tilted her head slightly, exposing more of her neck to Azzi. “I don’t think I’m done with you yet though.”

Azzi grinned wickedly. “Perfect.”

Jess’s composure faltered further as Paige leaned back, letting Azzi take the lead, their closeness undeniable. Paige’s hand stayed on Azzi’s neck, her thumb idly stroking the skin there as her darkened gaze was hidden behind her eyelids once Azzi kissed a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.

Jess could feel herself spiraling, her carefully maintained facade cracking under the weight of what she couldn’t have—and what Paige clearly no longer wanted to hide.

…

After a few more drinks, the rest of the bar blurred into insignificance for Paige and Azzi. The game they’d been playing, the teasing glances, and the calculated moves to rile up Jess were forgotten. Now, it was just the two of them, lost in the gravity of each other’s presence. It had gotten so crowded that the bartender dimmed the lights and had music blaring.

The music was loud and heavy, but Paige hardly heard it. Her entire focus was on Azzi—on the way her body moved in perfect sync with hers, how her touch left a trail of heat on her skin. Paige leaned in, her lips brushing Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “You make it impossible to think about anything else.”

Azzi chuckled softly, her hands sliding around Paige’s waist, holding her close. “Good,” she replied, her voice low and sultry. “Because all I can think about is you.”

The space between them disappeared as their movements became more intimate, their bodies pressed together as they swayed to the rhythm. Paige’s hands traveled up Azzi’s back, her touch lingering, as if memorizing every inch.

Azzi’s eyes darkened with desire as she traced her fingers along Paige’s arm. “You’ve been driving me crazy all night,” she murmured, her lips dangerously close to Paige’s.

Without warning, Azzi grabbed Paige’s hand and led her out of the crowded center of the room, weaving through the sea of bodies until they reached a darker, secluded corner near the back of the bar. The dim lighting barely touched them, casting long shadows that only seemed to heighten the tension between them.

Azzi leaned against the wall, pulling Paige flush against her. Paige’s lips ghosted over Azzi’s jawline, teasing, as her hands gripped her hips. “You’re impossible,” she whispered, her voice heavy with need.

Azzi tilted her head back slightly, her breath hitching as Paige’s lips brushed against her neck. “And you love it,” she said, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

Paige didn’t respond with words. Instead, she captured Azzi’s lips in a fierce, hungry kiss. It was as if the dam of restraint had finally broken, and all the tension that had been building between them spilled out. The kiss deepened quickly, their movements growing more desperate as they clung to each other.

Azzi’s hands slid under Paige’s shirt, her fingers tracing the bare skin of her back, while Paige’s hands roamed freely, one tangling in Azzi’s hair, the other gripping her waist. They were so absorbed in each other that they didn’t notice Jess standing across the room, her drink clutched tightly in her hand.

Jess’s face was a storm of emotions—jealousy, anger, and frustration swirling together. She slammed her glass down on the table with a sharp clatter, drawing a few startled glances from nearby patrons. Without a second look, she stormed out of Ted’s, the door slamming shut behind her.

But Paige and Azzi were oblivious. Their world had narrowed to just the two of them. Paige’s hands slid up Azzi’s sides, her touch slow and deliberate. When her fingers reached Azzi’s neck, she paused for a moment before wrapping her hand around it, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Azzi’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. She knew exactly what it meant when the blonde did that—Paige was losing control. As much as Azzi wanted to give in loving the way Paige’s hand felt around her neck, gentle but firm, she also knew they couldn’t lose themselves completely here.

Forcing herself to break the kiss, Azzi pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against Paige’s as they both struggled to catch their breath. Her voice was husky, barely above a whisper. “We need to get you out of here,” she said, her tone tinged with urgency and a hint of amusement.

Paige’s eyes, heavy-lidded and filled with unspoken longing, bore into Azzi’s. She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, her thumb brushing lightly against Azzi’s neck. “Take me,” she murmured, her voice rough with need.

Azzi’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” she said softly, her voice filled with promise.

Without wasting another second, Azzi took Paige’s hand, lacing their fingers together as she led her toward the exit. Their pace quickened, anticipation crackling between them like a live wire.

The cold night air hit them as Paige and Azzi stumbled out of Ted’s, laughter spilling from their lips as they clung to each other. The warmth of alcohol coursing through their veins made everything feel lighter, their inhibitions long gone. Paige’s hand lingered on Azzi’s waist, her touch firm and possessive as they swayed in rhythm, still caught in the afterglow of their moments inside.

Azzi tilted her head back, letting out a soft giggle. “We’re a mess,” she teased, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at Paige.

“And yet, somehow, we’re still the best-looking pair here,” Paige quipped, her voice low and playful, leaning in to brush her lips against Azzi’s temple.

Their laughter continued until Azzi’s gaze shifted. She stiffened slightly, her arm tightening around Paige’s waist. Paige noticed immediately, her own smile fading.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice soft but concerned.

Azzi’s eyes flicked toward the curb under the glow of a streetlamp. “There,” she muttered, her tone grim.

Paige followed her line of sight, and her heart sank. Sitting slumped on the curb, nursing what looked like her third or fourth drink of the night, was Jess. Her head was bowed, strands of hair falling into her face, but even from this distance, the weight of her presence was unmistakable.

Paige sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair. “Seriously?” she muttered under her breath.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, giving Paige a questioning look. What now?

Paige hesitated, torn. As much as Jess had complicated her life, it wasn’t in her nature to leave someone in that state.

With a sigh, Azzi gave Paige a gentle nudge forward. “Go,” she said softly, staying close behind.

They approached cautiously, Paige leading while Azzi lingered a few paces back, her watchful eyes never leaving Jess. As they neared, Jess seemed to sense their presence. Her head lifted slowly, her gaze landing on Paige first, then shifting to Azzi.

A bitter scoff escaped Jess’s lips. “Well, well,” she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “If it isn’t the happy couple. Come to gloat?” She raised her glass as if in a mock toast before taking a slow sip, her eyes never leaving them.

Paige frowned, her tone measured. “That’s not why we’re here, Jess. I came to—”

Jess’s gaze slid past Paige to Azzi, her lips curling into a nasty smirk

“And you,” she said, her voice laced with venom. “Always lurking in the background, aren’t you? Like a loyal little slut who—”

She didn’t get to finish. Paige’s eyes narrowed sharply, her voice cutting through the tension. “What did you just say?” she asked, her tone low and dangerous. She stepped forward, her jaw tightening. “Say that again.I couldn’t have heard you correctly.”

Jess’s smirk faltered, but she quickly doubled down, leaning back. “You heard me. It’s what she is.”

Paige’s jaw clenched, her fists curling at her sides as her heart pounded. Her voice dropped to a deadly calm. “No, say it again. I want to make sure I heard you right.”

Jess met her gaze, the smugness in her eyes flickering. “I said she’s a slut” emphasizing the last word.

Azzi didn’t flinch, her calm composure a stark contrast to the fire that suddenly ignited in Paige’s eyes.

“You don’t get to talk about her like that,” Paige cut in, her voice sharp and cold. She took a step closer, her towering presence making Jess shrink back slightly. “You don’t get to say her name, much less insult her.”

Jess scoffed, trying to hold her ground. “Oh, please. Like I’m scared of—”

“Shut up,” Paige snapped, her eyes blazing with anger. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re sitting here, drunk and bitter, trying to drag her down because you can’t stand the fact that I never wanted you.”

Jess froze, her eyes widening as the words hit their mark. “Yeah right, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, trying to sound confident.

“Oh, I think you do,” Paige shot back, her voice growing colder. “You’ve been playing the victim ever since I broke up with you, twisting the story to make yourself look better. But the truth? You were never more than a convenient lie I went along with to avoid embarrassing you after you made that little announcement.”

Jess’s face paled slightly, the weight of Paige’s words hitting her harder than she expected.

“I never felt anything for you,” Paige continued, her eyes locked on Jess. “Not once. And you need to get that through your head.”

The silence between them was deafening, broken only by the distant hum of traffic. Jess opened her mouth to respond, but Paige cut her off with a final warning.

“And one more thing,” Paige said, her voice low and deliberate. “If I ever hear you say Azzi’s name again—especially like that— I promise you’ll regret it.”

Jess’s eyes flicked to Azzi, who stood silently, her expression calm but unyielding. Jess’s confidence wavered, her smirk replaced by a mix of anger and humiliation.

Azzi, who had stayed back until now, finally stepped forward. She placed a gentle hand on Paige’s arm, her touch grounding. “Baby,” she said softly, her voice calm but firm. “It’s fine. Let’s go. She’s not worth it.”

Hearing that single word from Azzi hit Jess harder than any of Paige’s previous words. Her face twisted in a mix of hurt and fury, her composure cracking under the weight of what she had lost—and what she had never truly had.

Paige hesitated, her breathing heavy as she fought to rein in her emotions. Slowly, she nodded, her gaze softening as she looked at Azzi. “Yeah,” she murmured, her voice calmer. “You’re right.”

She wrapped an arm around Azzi, pulling her close as they turned to leave, neither of them glancing back. Jess was still sitting there, her face a mixture of anger and shame, the weight of her choices finally catching up to her.

Paige pressed a kiss to Azzi’s temple as they walked down the street, her arm securely around her. The confrontation with Jess was over, and as far as Paige was concerned, it was the last chapter in a story she had no intention of revisiting.

For the first time in a long while, Paige felt free, her focus solely on the woman by her side—the one who had always been there—the woman she unknowingly loved.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

Text

Someone New 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: why am I so anxious all the time?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

If Peggy’s party promised everything would change, the ‘yes’ you give to Arturo pays on that promise. Almost at once, everything is different. Your boring, orderly life is suddenly thrown into chaos. You have a hundred worries at once and not enough times; passport, visa, packing, flights. Not too mention all that you’re leaving behind; apartment, furniture, and... friends.

It’ll be good. You keep telling yourself that, just like Arturo, just like Sam. They seem more excited than you are. You struggle to see past the grief of saying goodbye to the life you built there; the life you built around Steve and false hopes. It’s foolish and naive but it still hurts.

And you’re scared. Norway. It’s far away. And you’ll be all alone. You survived college because you found Steve; you could stomach the furor of the city for Sam and Bucky, but on your own, what could you do? You’re not brave or bold or anything like that.

It doesn’t matter. You’re going to work. To forget. Focus on the dig, don’t think about everything else.

You’ve already lost so much. Steve’s busy, you are too. Maybe that’s good. You have to condition yourself for the trip. For a new life. A year is a long time. You feel like the newly graduated teen heading off to college, the one who walked into the wrong lecture hall on that fated day, the one he picked out and put firmly in her place; a friend, just a friend.

As you sort through your closet, tossing fabric into one pile or the other, your music stops playing and your phone buzzes loudly against your nightstand. You hurry to pick it up as that noise makes your neck bristle. You hate it.

You pick up without checking the display. You hope it’s the visa office. No, it’s Sam.

“Hey, chicky poo,” he chirps from the other end.

“Chicky poo?” You echo flatly.

“Hm, you’re right, I’ll keep workshopping,” he chuckles, “so you’re leaving in a week?”

“As long as my paperwork shows up,” you sighs and cross your arm over your middle. You sway as you look around at the clutter of your bedroom. “And I can get all this shit out of my place.”

“When’s your flight?” He asks pointedly. He’s not subtle. Men never are. For years, you’d hoped Steve was being subtle and look how that turned out. You know now he was so obviously not into you.

“Thursday, 5am,” you answer.

“Ah, that’s pretty early to be hungover but it will be worth it.”

“Hungover?” You wonder as you slowly sit on your bed, “why?”

“You’re leaving us so obviously, you need a final hurrah,” he insists, “I’m throwing you a going away party. Just the four of us, unless you have any plus ones?”

“Going away party?”

“Neither of the other jerks are gonna do it,” he scoffs, “nothing fancy, promise. Just some drinks.”

“What about Tuesday? Give me a day to recover?”

“Wednesday works. Steve’ll be back by then.”

“Back by then?” You must sound like a parrot.

“Oh, yeah, the lovers went up north to look at venues for the engagement party. Too bad you won’t make it. I’ll have to drink myself into a stupour all by myself,” he intones.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you grumble and pick at a wrinkle in your pants.

“Don’t be sorry. You deserve this. I’m so fucking excited for you,” he chimes, “you have to tell me everything. I want pictures of vikings and castles and stuff. All of it.”

“Sam, I’m just going to be digging,” you mutter.

“And? You can’t just go over there an put your head down. Go sightseeing, go out on the town, have a wild one-night stand--”

“Sam,” you drone.

“You need it,” he cackles, “it’ll be a story to bring home with ya. Make us all jealous with your wild Norwegian adventure. Hey,” he pauses and sucks his teeth, “you’re like Uno reversing a whole country. Vikings used to invade others, this is your chance to go right in there and raise hell.”

“You’re stupid,” you laugh and shake your head.

“Never said otherwise.”

“Hm, fine, Wednesday,” you agree, “if I'm gonna be there, I gotta get all this shit packed.”

“Did I not say if you need anything? I can help,” he offers.

“No, no, I got it,” you say, “really, it’s not that much.”

“Right, well, I should get back to it and let you do the same,” he says in a resigned tone.

You hang up and heave. You put the phone down and drop your head into your hands. You feel like you should cry. You’ve felt that tide of tears pushing on your eyes since the party but they just won’t come. All that tension is driving you mad but you just can’t dislodge the nail driven deep into your chest.

💟

Your life is hectic but you’re not surprised Steve isn’t part of the whirlwind. Why would he be? He has so much going on. A wedding is much more important than what could possibly be the most spontaneous and naive decision of your life. Impulsive more than anything. Cowardly when you think about it. You’re running away because you can’t face the truth. Because it’s just easy to leave your emotions in New York.

Still, you thought you’d hear more than this. More than a thumbs up emoji or hearsay from Sam. Even after your conversation on the balcony and his reassurances, you still feel his discontent. Will he really miss you that much or is he just upset you won’t be there to celebrate the love of his life?

It doesn’t matter, does it?

It’s gone so fast and you hope the next year goes just as quickly. That all this passes. Not just the trip but everything else. The sadness, the pain, the fear. You try to be positive. You thought college was scary and look how that turned out.

Ugh, you’re really doing this. You're leaving is all behind. You’re leaving your friends and your family and your home. You have no one to blame but yourself. You could’ve gotten over Steve Rogers a decade ago. More than that. You couldn’t rip the band-aid off, you had to pull it slow so ever hair rends painfully from the flesh.

The GPS guides you between the shining marquee. You can see the pulsing dot of your destination on the screen. You don’t drive towards it, instead hunting for a parking spot among the cramped lots and lined curbs. You should’ve taken a cab but you’re only having one drink and you’re saving for the inevitable expense of hurling yourself halfway across the world.

You get out and grab your phone, your purse hooked over your elbow. You raise the small screen and get your bearings, squinting as you set yourself in the right direction. Just across and at the end.

As you approach the bar, you stop short. This isn’t exactly the flavour. Well, not for them. You peer up at the neon light in the shape of a martini, a bright pink beacon, under which a large group of women cluster. Whoops and hollers go up as they enter and leave you standing out in the technicolour-tinted night. Did you get the address wrong?

You check your messages with Sam. No, it’s correct. Strange. Maybe he didn’t know.

You pull open the violet-shaded glass door and peer around as you step out of the way of the patrons behind you. You text Sam to check if he’s there already. You can’t seem to keep up with the clock hands these days.

As you wait for a response, you glance around. It’s like a Sex and the City reenactment. The guys always teased you for your rants about Carrie Bradshaw’s selfishness. They weren’t much for the genre. With them, it’s sports bars and beers and what ball game is in season. They never notice your cute new earrings or your efforts to spruce up your work clothes with a flashy belt.

‘Here. You’re looking cute.’ Sam’s response comes.

You narrow your eyes and stand on your toes to look around. He’s sitting at a tall table with Bucky, the two of them looking out of place before the feathered centerpiece and glitzy wall art of high heels. You can’t help a grin. This is absolutely ridiculous.

You weave through the tables and bodies, past the bar of gabbing girl groups and a few men mixed in. You near your friends and claim one of the tall stools around the round table. You use the bottom bar to haul yourself up onto the seat and hang your purse from your knee.

“Hey, this place is... sparkly,” you look around with a dumb smile. You can’t help it! You never get a girls’ night.

“It is,” Bucky agrees in a grit.

You stop short. You look at him then at Sam. You didn’t notice before. They’re wearing bows on their heads. Sam has a head band with a gregariously big pink ribbon, whereas Bucky has a glittering purple bow pinned into his thick locks. You laugh and smother it behind your hands.

“What is this?” You snicker.

“We are your ladies tonight!” Sam announces and shifts to stand, bending under the table, “and you get to be queen bee!” He reaches to the floor and you lean to see the huge tote underneath, “here is your tiara!”

He pulls out the plastic tiara with fake pink gems and white feathers. You giggle again as he places it on your head. This is too much.

“Sam! How—this is so stupid. You didn’t have to do all this.”

“What? It’s about time. Don’t worry about us. It’s all about you,” he snaps his finger and points at you, “we’re going to order girly cocktails and dish on the cute dudes.”

Bucky shakes his head as he fixes the bow in his hair, “I wanted a flower.”

You bring your hands down to your next and wiggle on the seat giddily. This is amazing. Your eyes sting and your throat locks up. You’re going to miss these idiots.

“You guys,” you breathe.

“No crying!” Sam claps his hand, “I already got this guy moping around.”

“I’m not moping,” Bucky sniffs.

“We have to decide who’s who. I know you hate Carrie so we’ll save that for Steve. He is the stuck up blond, after all,” Sam smirks, “I’m definitely Samantha, it’s already in my name. And you,” he points at you, “Miranda. The level-headed one who has to put up with our BS. That means Bucky--”

“Charlotte?” Bucky frowns, “can’t I be Stanford?”

You nearly gasp, “Bucky, are you a stan?”

“I’ve seen some episodes,” he shrugs.

“Well, that’s decided,” Sam checks his watch, “where’s that bozo?”

You frown and look around. You look at your phone. You were just on the cusp but Steve is late. Bucky takes out his cell too and all three of you scroll through your screens.

“Whatever, we don’t have to wait for him, drinks,” Sam blacks the screen and sets down his phone. He reaches for the pink pleather drink menu, “I was looking at the Paradise Punch. Sounds interesting.”

“Mm, I’m just having one,” you state, “I gotta drive home.”

“Pfft, don’t worry about it. You can get your car tomorrow.”

“Sam, I leave at five in the morning.”

“Fine, I’ll take care of the car. You’re storing it, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t expect--”

“Tonight is going to be fun. No arguing,” he points a long finger at you.

The phone jitters and his phone lights up. He picks it up as your cell remains lifeless in a rare moment of peace, though it’s fraught nonetheless. You peek over at the empty fourth stool.

“He’s not coming,” you utter.

Sam huffs and puts his phone down, “he’s not. Peggy has a work dinner and he’s invited.”

“Oh,” you nod and try not to deflate entirely, “that’s... that’s fine. He said he’d come to the airport but I wasn’t counting on that either.”

“Asshole,” Sam sneers.

“Hey, no,” you shake your head, “he’s busy. He has a wedding and all that--”

“You’re going away,” Bucky surprises you with the emotion in his tone, “and he can’t be here.”

“Really, it’s not--”

“It is,” Sam insists. “How long are you gonna let him walk all over you? Isn’t that why you’re leaving?”

“It’s work, it’s nothing to do with Steve.”

“Sure,” Sam accepts hotly, “keep telling yourself that.” He cringes and swallows, “tonight isn’t about him. For once. It’s about you. Us. Having fun. Saying goodbye. It’s gonna be terrible without you. I hope you know that.”

You could laugh at his rebuke. The conflict between celebratory and reproachful is amusing. You exhale and put your hands up.

“Alright, I got it.”

“Buck,” he gestures to the other man, “go.”

You turn to the Bucky and he slides off his stool. He reaches down under the table and brings up a gift bag. Your mouth falls open. Your chest tweaks, a mixture of glee and guilt. You’re happy to have friends with them but you feel so bad for not seeing it earlier. For being so tunnel-visioned that you couldn’t appreciate them fully.

“This is so—you didn’t have to,” you say.

“We did. Obviously,” Sam scoffs, “don’t worry, my gift is the grand finale.”

“Right,” you smile and accept the bag from Bucky. You push through the tissue paper and pull out the heavy shape inside. You reveal it and just as quickly hide it back in the polka dot bag, “Bucky!”

You let go of the taser and retract your hand. Sam guffaws and Bucky gives a confused grimace, “you need it.”

“What?” You hiss.

“You’re going to be all alone over there. You should be safe.”

“I... appreciate the thought but it’s a bit extreme.”

“He’s right,” Sam adds, “you know, going to the land of the vikings, you can never be too safe. I’ve heard they like to carry women off in their boats.”

“You two,” you roll your eyes.

“My turn,” Sam says, “you’ll love this.”

He once more searches under the table and the tote crinkle. He pulls out an envelope and you tilt your head. Really?

“Money?” You wonder.

“What am I? Your grandma?” He snorts, “here.”

You take the envelope and turn it over. You pull the flap open and reveal a pamphlet within, along with a second slip of paper. A reservation...

“I found this place over there. It’s at some coastal castle, there’s a spa and all that. They do like ancient types of treatments, hot rocks or whatever,” he explains, “I made sure you can adjust the dates too if you need. You just have to call.”

“Wow, that’s... Sam, I’m going to be so busy--”

“I told you not to work yourself too hard. That’s a good excuse for you to get your head out of the dirt. Literally. Just think of me when you’re in a mud bath with a glass of champagne.”

You put the envelope next to the gift bag and drop off the stool. You open your arms to them. Sam is up first and Bucky drags himself to his feet. You wrap them in a hug and they do the same in turn. It must be an absolutely ridiculous sight but you don’t care. You tuck your head against Sam’s arm and feel a rumble in Bucky’s chest.

“Sam, that’s my ass,” Bucky snarls.

“I was just making sure you didn’t forget your wallet,” Sam chuckles.

“You’re a moron,” Bucky pulls away and shoves him.

“Peas in a pod, bud,” Sam lets you go as the hug breaks up, “now, I need a drink and you...” he points in your direction, “need a double.”

#steve rogers #thor #thor x reader #steve rogers x reader #someone new #series #au #fic #grayish fic #angst fic #marvel #mcu #avengers #captain america

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wispyxjae · 4 months ago

Text

going to a rave or concert with bf!p1harmony member

genre: fluff, nsfw/suggestive below the cut (mdni)

cw: established relationship, female reader, mentions of substance/alcohol use, pda, kissing/making out, groping, possessive piwon, non idol au

a/n: i wrote this at 4am while still intoxicated post-first rave so i hope you enjoy my drunk thoughts. i’ve also been wanting to write this ever since those pictures of intak, keeho, and jongseob in the crowd at gov ball were released.

imagine going to a rave or concert with your boyfriend and he’s just holding you close, hugging you from behind and dancing with you.

you turn around to face him and stare lovingly at him as you both feel the music coursing through your veins. his hands go to cup your face as he presses kisses all over, pulling away to smile at you as he spins you around so you can enjoy the light show the artist puts on for the crowd.

he loooves having you in his arms so close to him and being able to show other guys around you that you’re his and no one else’s to lay hands on or even look at. is definitely possessive in public, especially if either or both of you are under the influence; the pda is coming out and there’s nothing anyone else can do about it. for the most part, keeps it simple and classy with just skinship and kisses. it’s enough to make you feel safe and him feel like the luckiest man on earth.

absolutely makes sure you’re hydrated before, during, and after the outing so you can have a good time. will even take off your makeup and do your skincare routine for you at the end of the night if you’re too gone or tired to do it yourself. loves to take care of you and nurture you because you’re his loving partner who deserves nothing but the best (which is what he is to you).

nsfw/suggestive below the cut! mdni at this point

if he had to be completely honest, your outfit had his head spinning even more than the substances or alcohol. he knew you were planning this outfit for a few weeks now, constantly drooling at the idea of you in less clothing than usual. the moment you got dressed, pulling on the last few accessories to tie the look together, all it took was one look at you for him to drink you in and get drunk on you alone. he admired the bold and sparkly makeup you decided to do, fingers lightly touching the jewels on your face every now and then.

it was nights like this when he couldn’t believe you were his girl. he was obsessed with you (which is nothing new) and couldn’t keep his hands off you the entire night. he tried his hardest to limit the pda to kissing and holding you in front of him, not wanting to ruin your high/trip if he got too handsy. but the moment you turn to look at him with those big doe eyes he’s a goner.

his hands travel from your waist down to your ass, the lack of clothing giving him easy access to squeeze and grope at the flesh. your arms snake up around his neck as he leans down to kiss you, slowly and passionately. time stopped down when the two of you were together, especially intoxicated and in the middle of a huge crowd; it felt like you two were the only ones that existed.

the longer you two kiss, the more handsy he gets, causing you to gasp and allow his tongue to slip into your mouth. you can taste the remnants of alcohol on his tongue, but his touch is even more intoxicating. the thrumming bass drowns out any noises you may make to those around you, but he knows you so well and knows exactly what sounds you’re making just by how desperately you’re kissing him back, panting and scratching at the hair at the nape of his neck.

when you finally pull away after what feels like an eternity, he’s still holding you close to him, one hand around your waist and the other giving your each of your cheeks a light squeeze. you’re both breathless and can’t help but smile at each other as you rest your foreheads against one another. “you make me crazy, y/n,” he shouts over the blaring music, pressing another kiss to your smiling lips. “i love you too,” you nearly scream back, laughing before he turns back around to enjoy the show, but now pulling you even closer than before, with his chin on your shoulder, just so you can feel the affect you have on him digging into your ass.

#jae writes ─‎♡₊˚#p1harmony #p1h #p1harmony x reader #piwon x reader #p1h x reader #p1harmony imagines #p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony fluff #piwon fluff #p1harmony smut #piwon smut #p1harmony hard hours #p1harmony hard thoughts #keeho x reader #theo x reader #jiung x reader #intak x reader

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queer-n-here · 9 months ago

Note

UHM-UHM-

Yeah I have no shame to just not ask anonymously- anyways!

May I please request a 6'1 reader who is stoic, bold, also handsome as Dazai but ain't a womaniser, and is VERY quiet. With Dazai. He works at the ADA with him. He follows Dazai around like literally, he acts and opens up more to Dazai than he does with others, he literally doesn't care if Dazai was In the pm (they met at 14) or abt his crimes, he can read Dazai's emotions And can see through him, they R lovers, he is loyal asf to Dazai. He Also is rich asf and has better fashion tastes! Pls make both a oneshot or hc or ANYTHING ABT THEMMMMM

(I'm very desperate BC of a certain fantasy of mine)

Ah, I gotchu you bruv.

[ Also, let's do a little quiz. What country do y'all think I originate from? Like, based on my language and writing and just... Yeah.]

And yep, I'm double posting today!

Canonically, there are no mentions of Dazai's past before the Port Mafia, so I made stuff up. Hope you like it!

Contents: Uhh...a lot. I got... *winces* I got carried away.

Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of death, suicide and violence, Dazai's life is sad and so are these hcs.

You and Dazai met when you two were 14 each. It was a chance encounter, really. Both of you were orphans, and both of you were ability users, even though Dazai knew more about his ability than you did yours.

Both of you currently had no one in the world. That was the key factor that brought you two together. Struggling to get by and find a place of your own in the world, you met.

Neither of you opened up at first, cautious and calloused as you both were. It just happened; it didn't happen one particular day, and before you two had realized, you'd become each other's sole support.

You turned fifteen, and three months later Dazai met Mori.

He told you about it later, describing in the sort of detail no one else would get to hear how he'd rescued the Port Mafia leader from an enemy gang, unintentionally impressing him and securing Dazai a place in the Mafia.

You didn't like it. The job was dangerous, and you didn't want Dazai's hands to get stained with blood. When you told him this, he laughed it off, and said that he could handle it. You dropped the matter.

He was wrong.

You watched as Dazai changed, despite his promises and assurances. He grew ruthless, cruel in a way that made you ache as you watched him, silent. He started hating everything, even himself, and sometimes you thought he hated you, too.

He had a beautiful heart, you knew. But Mori was destroying it.

You talked to Mori about it, too. You might not have anything on him, yes, he was richer and way more powerful, but you had your ability, and you were ready to fight to death. Before you could, however, Dazai intervened.

That was the first time you two fought. After that, you went to him and told him you wouldn't care if he didn't want you to. If he wanted to keep going down the path that he'd chosen, you wouldn't stop him.

Sometimes, you look back and wonder if there was something you could have done for him other than what you did. You still can't think of anything.

You opened up a small business after that, and it slowly grew to a scale larger than you had expected.

Then you two turned eighteen. Finally, you were able to register your enterprises under your own name, being a legal adult. You and Dazai got wasted that night, and you watched fondly as he tried and failed to put his coat on so you two could go and meet Ango and Odasaku.

They had probably begun then, your feelings for Dazai. You were only comfortable enough with him to actually talk, and not just say what was absolutely required and then shut up.

He knew you in a way no else did. No one else knew what it looked like when you smiled, or threw your head back and laughed freely. No one else knew what it was like when you cared, when you brought over Dazai's favorite refreshing drink every time you visited him in summer. Or when you helped him change his bandages, touch gentle and careful against his soft skin.

And you knew him the way no else did. No one else knew what it was like when he was genuine, when he'd look up at you with earnest eyes. No one else knew what it was like when he flushed slightly, the red of his skin always starting from the tips of his ears and descending to his cheeks. No one else knew what it was like when Dazai protected, when he offered to use his contacts in the Mafia to get rid of your competitors, even though you declined every time. He had enough blood on his hands without you pitching in.

Eight months after that, he left the Port Mafia. He came to your apartment crying that day. His face was ashen, his shirt was covered in blood and his lips were trembling. The tears that had been collecting in his eyes for who knows how long finally spilled when he saw you, and the only thing you could do for him in that situation was open your arms and let him cling onto you. He kept saying 'Oda's dead... He's dead...'

That night, Dazai changed. Thankfully for the better. That flame in his eyes was gone now, the one that made you worry if he would burn himself and the world.

Dazai slowly stopped hating after that. You and Ango were the only two he trusted, the only two he would be genuine with. He didn't close up in a way that hid his smile, or in a way that made him withdraw from people. Quiet the opposite. He pushed himself outward, adopting a cheery persona that joked around and bewitched everyone.

The only smiles that weren't created but slid across his face on their own were ones that he smiled with you, and Ango.

You couldn't help but feel slightly bittersweet. Dazai was out of that hellhole, that cursed gang that was making his heart black. But Odasaku was dead.

After that, as your twenties arrived, Dazai joined the Armed Detective Agency. You were happy, then.

You two celebrated at a lavish restaurant. Your business had grown to be Japan's No. 1, and the money that spilled in with it was something neither Dazai nor you had expected.

But your hopes for the ADA were too high. Sometimes, Dazai still wanted to leave. He said he wanted to kill himself, and even though he would always laugh it off, you couldn't help but notice that his eyes would always grow hollow when he spoke of it.

And so the only thing you could do was love him. You loved him and tried your best to let him know, buying him unnecessary gifts and putting him on top of your mental priority list. Even your staff knew you loved him; it was apparent and obvious.

Dazai was probably the only one that didn't notice it, that genius dumbass.

And so you tried harder. You had never been good with words, but you tried to be vocal about your feelings, telling him he was cute when you thought so, and saying that he looked good when he did.

Dazai still didn't notice. The day he found out was when you got drunk and blurted it out.

You still don't have a lot of memories from that night, and Dazai says that you passed out soon after confessing. He finds it funny now, even though he didn't back then.

Your confession made Dazai pull up a wall against you. This surprised you, hurt you, and you tried apologizing, tried to get him to just talk to you. You told him that it didn't matter if he didn't return your feelings.

Something was hurting Dazai, you could tell. But he just wouldn't talk to you, going so far as to changing his phone number without telling you.

So you showed up at his workplace. Kunukida knew you by sight; you often came to pick Dazai up from work. You two had a big fight, shouting in one hallway of the agency building, making such a ruckus that Ranpo and the others came over to watch.

It ended with Dazai turning around to leave, and you were planning to let him go. But then you saw a tear glisten at his cheek last moment, and hence gave chase.

You chased him down all the way from Yokohoma to Kawasaki, only stopping when Dazai collapsed in the middle of a street, his frame shaking with sobs as he started hyperventilating. You crouched down beside him and pulled him to your chest, rubbing his back and conducting his breathing, your voice soft as it told him to inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale....

He fell asleep on your shoulder, in the middle of nowhere. You carried him back to your house, and tucked him into a warm bed. The next morning, he wouldn't meet your eye.

Usually, you would have let him; there was hardly anything that Dazai would do that you would disapprove of. But lately, you had been going against his wishes a lot, so you decided to do that one more time.

When he tried to leave, you pinned him to a wall and forced him to look at you. It wasn't difficult, Dazai had never really worked out, even as a part of the Port Mafia. His fighting style was more quick and clean moves than brute strength.

It worked well in your advantage as he tried to struggle against your hold and failed miserably, tears collecting in his eyes and threatening to fall.

"Dazai," You said. "If you want me to disappear from your life, I can do that." He looked up at you, eyes wide and blurred. "But there's one catch. You have to say it. Say it to my face, tell me to leave, and I swear on my own life, I'll vanish. You won't ever see me again." And then the tear that had been collecting in his eye all this time fell, sliding down his cheek and onto the collar of his shirt. His arms went limp in your hold, and he wobbled forwards. You caught him as he fell, and he sobbed into your shoulder again. His hands were clutching at your shirt as if for dear life, and even as you rubbed his back, more tears fell from his eyes. You held Dazai through his breakdown. The next time he spoke to you, he said the words, "I like you too much." It was a silent confession, almost muffled into your shoulder as the post-crying exhaustion overtook. You pulled him closer and pressed a kiss into his temple.

It was alright after that. You asked Dazai why he tried to run away, and the only thing he said was that he got scared. He chose not to explain, and you chose not to push him.

Now, everything is good. Dazai's job at the ADA does worry you sometimes, even if it's for the good, it's dangerous, but you know he loves his job, no matter how many jokes he makes about Fukuzawa's violation of the Labor Laws. And he loves you, that's all you've ever needed.

Being in a relationship with him is not always easy. He still speaks of dying, and the thought of him leaving you makes you panic. Sometimes, you still don't know what to do to make him feel better. But you manage to work through it.

You love Dazai, after all. You have ever since you two were kids.

#dom male reader #top male reader #dom reader #bungou stray dogs #sub bsd x you #sub bsd #bsd x you #sub bungou stray dog x you #sub bungou stray dogs #sub character #sub character x you #sub dazai #sub dazai x you #sub osamu dazai x you #sub osamu dazai

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hamburgerhelpersotherhand · 8 months ago

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Infatuation Rewritten - Chapter 1

Joe Goldberg x Reader (ft. Love Quinn)

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Summary: Love's longtime friend moves back to LA. Fortunately, Joe (Will) never had too much trouble adapting (Season 2).

Warnings: Alcohol consumption (we're all adults here), Joe actually loses his mind a little at the end.

Now for something nobody expected! The long-awaited rewrite for Infatuation... I have 40 pages of this, by the way. I'd like for *some* of them to see the light of day... and so I've told myself: If I wait for it to be perfect, It'll never be posted. I hope you all enjoy, and feel free to share your thoughts! xoxo Ona

My eyes roamed the list of names by the front door of the apartment complex. There were about four total, so finding yours was the easiest part. The hardest step came in the form of mustering up the courage to press the buzzer. But, was it really a trouble with courage? The more I thought, as my finger hovered over the button, the more I began to consider it to be uncertainty.

I pause and reach my other hand into my pocket. My fingers slide across the screen of your phone, and I remind myself why I'm here. Simply put, I’m here to give you your phone back. I found it on the passenger’s seat of my car and almost thought to tell Love… Instantly, a part of me knew she would’ve pried it from my grip to give to you herself – and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity for us to speak again, this time unmonitored by her perceptive gaze and sharp ears… and without the alcohol in your system.

Last night, you clung to Love as she touched you tenderly, playing the role of your dutiful sober saviour. She hosted a dinner and she invited her friends. One of them was you.

“A good friend,” She had called you. The last she’d spoken to you was ten years ago, and I guess I hadn’t realized good friends stay out of reach for a decade at a time. It didn’t matter how much time had split you two apart, though, because Love embraced you with a warm smile and open arms. There wasn’t any malice, no judgement either. She was just happy to have you back in her life. When you got too drunk to take public transportation, Love tried to coax you into staying the night. You wouldn’t budge, even with a slipping tongue, fluttering eyes, and a head too heavy to stay upright. So she compromised: you let her coddle you, sober you up just enough, and I drove you home. It wasn’t even that late, Love just couldn't stop pouring you wine after wine after wine. You seemed like you needed it, though. Tense as you were. Pent up little thing.

“What’s your relationship like with Love?” I asked, feeling rather bold with your inebriated self. The image of her hand resting on your thigh flashed in my mind. I laughed. “She hadn’t mentioned you until you’d moved back to LA. She practically can't shut up about you now.”

You shifted in your seat like a child. No position in my car seemed comfortable for you, and you had made it more than obvious.

“She’s a good friend.” You responded and looked out the window like it meant something. Love had said the same thing — I believed you both — but I felt as though you were withholding something else from the conversation. The annoying bell on your purse jingles as you tuck it closer to your side.

“You two seem close. Should I be concerned?” I then asked teasingly, laughing to fill the awkward tension of a silent car ride. I wanted to spark something in you, but you brushed it off as you curled your arms around your waist.

“I think I had too much to drink…” I glanced at you, and I was suddenly nervous. Your coat was askew, hanging off your shoulders. I knew you were drunk, but your direct announcement sounded to me as a warning.

“Tell me if you need to throw up, okay?” You slowly nodded before slotting your forehead against the cool car window. We remained like that until you got home, choosing to stumble your way for a block to feel a semblance of privacy – but I watched you walk up those steps. I knew your building, and you were still too fucked up to realize.

I pull your phone out of my pocket and look it over one more time. My thumb runs over the plastic case before turning it around and looking at myself in the black reflection.

Your phone is dead. Has been since I found it. None of my chargers fit into the port, unsurprisingly. It’s one of those phones where the keyboard slides out, for Pete's sake. Your phone is more than a few generations old. A brick. I chewed my fingers raw trying anything I could to get it started again – I wanted to pry, really. I’ll be honest with you here, I really wanted this glimpse into your personal affairs.

I wondered, exasperatedly, about what you were hiding behind this screen. Clutching it tighter into my palm, I lift my free hand and press the buzzer.

A few long moments after the sound, I hear a click.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N. It’s Will –” I begin to say, ready to explain myself in the same manner I had rehearsed at home, eating breakfast, in the car, and on my way up the steps. However, you cut me off immediately.

“Do you have my phone?”

My heart skips a beat and I’m momentarily stunned. I blink a few times before speaking.

“Yeah, actually.” I replied. “I found it on the passenger seat this morning, I guess I didn't see it when I got home last night.”

“I’m going to buzz you in.” Perfect.

After hearing the buzzer, the door clicked. I made my way inside. The stairs were wooden and creaky, the walls showing obvious water damage, and the lights hummed obnoxiously. Obviously, none of this was of your doing. Your landlord just didn’t care.

Your door’s paint was chipping off, revealing the cracked wooden layer underneath, but the rusted numbers on your door somehow looked worse. I knocked.

I heard the shuffling of your feet from behind the door before it opened. When your head peeked out, you gave me a smile and extended your hand.

I momentarily look at it, thinking… Right. I drop your phone into your awaiting palm. I almost thought you wanted me to reach out as well. That would’ve been too good, right?

“May I use your bathroom?” I ask.

Your mouth opens momentarily, as you look away and off to the side. There’s nothing there, you’re simply thinking it through and disappearing into your head again.

“Sure.” You then reply, reluctantly scooting back and giving me my first glimpse into your apartment.

If only you knew how ecstatic I was to slip through the crack of your front door. My heart thumps excitedly, as I waste no time looking around. By the door sits a coat hanger with a few pairs of shoes around its feet.

“Should I take off my boots?” I ask.

“Yeah, actually. I’d appreciate it.”

I untie the laces and slip them off my feet. Then, just as I drop them by the coat hanger, you beckon me to follow.

Your apartment is a fair size, with one large space making up both the kitchen and the living room. Right of the front door, a short hallway leads us to a room. As you continue past the door, I slow myself and look to my left. Your hallway has a little louvred closet, and I can’t help but reach out and open it. There’s nothing exciting inside, only white bed sheets.

“The bathroom is over here.” I suddenly hear you say from within the bedroom. I close the closet and hurry along, hesitantly making my way into your room.

I examine the layout of your furniture: your bed is made, your dresser tucked away in the corner, your desk by the window, and your small bookcase right by its side. I take another look toward your window: It overlooks the front of the building, I think. I want to look around more, but I’ve already entered an uncomfortable silence through this simple observation… you’re bound to find it weird. Hell, you’re already finding it weird – my being here – if your reluctance to me using your bathroom is anything to go by.

“Thanks.” I tell you, nodding in your direction and scooting by to enter the bathroom. I peer over my shoulder, however, and take another peek into your bedroom before shutting the door.

In the bathroom, I made my way to the toilet and listened to your shuffling from the other side of the door. I lifted the seat without paying much attention, and stilled when I heard you leave the bedroom entirely. I didn’t really need to go to the bathroom, but I wasn’t lying when I said I needed to use it.

I waited a moment, lowered the toilet seat again, and didn’t bother flushing or washing my hands. The sound could set you off that I was finished, and I definitely wasn’t finished. I needed the opportunity to snoop just a tad bit more. I unlocked and creaked the bathroom door open, observing the quiet room with more attention than I had before.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I leave the door open. My head snaps in the direction of your bedroom door and I pleasantly find it shut from the rest of your apartment. You’re making this too easy. I make my way around quietly, being careful with my steps as I approach your nightstand with a familiar object glinting in the natural sunlight of the room: your phone, on its charger. When I press the button on its side, the logo appears as it powers on.

I take the time needed for the phone to boot up as an excuse to look about your room. The bookcase, which I had only glanced at before, takes shape infront of me. My hand drifts along the spines of the books… and I feel unsatisfied. You have a small selection of kitschy modern romance novels. My judging eyes shift to your dresser, the framed pictures sitting on top catching my attention. I don't recognize anyone, but a weird feeling washes over me. You’re not in any of these pictures. I feel a… disconnection… from the room. My eyes move elsewhere and I catch sight of a few unopened cardboard boxes against the wall near the bedroom door. They’re folded. Unused. I wonder briefly as I look back down to your phone. It’s open.

Unlocking it was easy, no password. You know, the good thing about an older cellphone model is how easy it is to just… get in. I flip your phone over and pop the back right off. I slide the chip out of my pocket and right into place. Once everything is back in its place, I unlock your phone and fully install the hardware. As much as I would like to start snooping about your phone now, I close it and set it back down on your nightstand. I make my way back into the bathroom, pulling my phone out all the while. I open the freshly installed app and bite at my lip as I see the device sync up. Done.

I flush the toilet, wash my hands, and make my way out of the bedroom. When I step back into your living room kitchen, you’re seated at the short island, your back to the small living room.

“Thanks for letting me use your bathroom,” I say, making my way back to the front door. You swivel the chair as I walk by and watch me duck for my boots.

“Thanks for bringing me my phone. I was almost going to head out to Anavrin–”

“Oh, I don’t work Saturdays. You would’ve missed me entirely.” I say all matter-of-factly, like an asshole. You shrink.

“Noted.”

As I loop the laces around, I look up at you. Your brows knit together and you avert your eyes from me. I watch you for another moment, smiling to myself. You’re nervous.

“What’re all the boxes for?” I ask, looking around the apartment. They’re a little sprawled out everywhere, but most of them are still folded up. I chew my cheek as I wonder – are you packing up to leave already? You just got here not even a week ago. Is that what’s gotten you so nervous? Cause I caught you? I bite my tongue and choose to rephrase my thoughts. “Still unpacking?”

“No, It’s… complicated.” You respond.

I nod my head and stand. Your eyes fleet to me for a second before drawing away. Is it me, Y/N? Am I making you nervous?

“Thank you again, for my phone.” You mumble, drifting off somewhere. I smile wide, and huff. You’re not a threat. A pest, likely. But not a threat.

“Yeah, no problem.”

I’m out the door not a moment later, spinning my keys while on the way to my car.

—

Back at my apartment, I notice the door’s unlocked.

I'm cautious as I walk through the threshold, peering ahead only to notice Love behind the counter.

“Love, I didn’t expect you to break into my apartment.” I tease, taking off my boots and shedding my jacket.

“I thought you’d be home,” she whines. “Besides, it’s not breaking in when you’ve got a key.”

I make my way into the kitchen, to her side, and slip my hands around her waist. She turns her head to look at me, a big smile on her face.

“Where were you?” She mumbles, still looking down at the counter.

“I went over to Y/N’s apartment,” I began, rolling the hem of her shirt between my fingers. “She forgot her phone in my car last night.” I kiss her shoulder.

“Mmh,” Love hums. “That was nice of you.”

I look over her shoulder, noticing the restaurant brochures infront of her.

“What were you doing here?”

“Looking for something to order. I don’t really want to cook again tonight.”

I lift my hands off her hips, placing them on either side of the counter. I press forward, and slide one of the menus into view.

“This one seems good.” I whisper, inconsiderate of what I’m pointing to. I’ve got one thing on my mind right now, and it isn’t the brochures.

Catching onto my carelessness, Love turns around and faces me. She tilts her head and observes my face for a moment before sliding her arms around my neck.

“How did it go?” Love suddenly inquires about us again.

“It went well,” I tell her, keeping it short. Still, she pries.

“Tell me more,”

“Well, she showed me to her bathroom,” I look around, as though I was recalling the few minutes I stood in your apartment. I’ll keep the snooping to myself. “Aaand, that’s about it.”

Love thins her lip. She’s pensive for a moment. She thinks, and I watch her grapple with her thoughts as she looks about the kitchen. She clears her throat before speaking.

“Will,” She starts, her hand taps my chest and I watch it circle around. “I wouldn’t be asking you this if it wasn’t important, but… can you do me a huge favour?”

My hands find Love’s face, cupping her cheeks, and pressing her forehead to mine. My eyes search hers, and I pout.

“Anything for you,” I tell her. Anything.

“Forty has this thing tomorrow… I didn’t think ahead, and my plans are jumbled. But, this is really important.”

For a second, my stomach drops. I try not to let the horror show on my face as I’m convinced she’s about to glue me to Forty’s side for a day. But she continues.

“Y/N needs help clearing the apartment,” My eyes narrow, and I nod as I continue to listen. “You see… Will. It isn’t really my place to say this, but I thought you should know her mom passed away a few months ago. She’s been trying to sort through the estate, and they finally gave her the green light to clear out her old apartment. I can’t be there to help.”

Love’s hands slide over mine, cupping my fingers as I cup her cheeks.

“Are you free sometime tomorrow? Would you be able to help her out?”

With this revelation, the framed pictures sitting on the dresser make sense.

“I mean… yeah. I can do that.”

Love lights up at my response, hopping up for an intimate kiss. My hands fall to her ass, but she pulls away too soon. Always too soon.

“Thank you, Will,” She grins, tapping my chest again. “I’ll let her know.”

As Love pulls out her phone, I watch her tap away at the screen.

“You know, that entire complex looks unlivable. The place might have a rodent problem, too.” I say as she hits send.

“I know! I told her she could stay with me,” Love leans her head against my chest with a frustrated huff, slipping her phone onto the counter.

“You both already spend so many afternoons together,” I begin, sliding her head up to look at me. My fingers brush her cheek, and my next words come out hushed. “If she was around any more, I’d never have you to myself.”

Her eyes flutter as my hands brush baby hairs out of her face. I hum, and lean in for another kiss.

“Will,” she starts, pressing her palm into my chest. She pushes me back, and I let her. “I’m not in the mood right now. Is that alright?”

I purse my lips… a little agitated, but I understand. I’m in the mood, but I understand. She doesn’t want to have sex, she wants to talk about you.

“Of course, Love,” I kiss her cheek. “Some other time.”

With a smile, she returns her attention to those stupid brochures. I agree to whatever she wants, whatever she’s in the mood for. I always do.

Once dinner’s sorted, we pair it with a movie on my tv. We cuddle, and it’s nice. During an intimate scene, a quiet one with rustling bedsheets, Love decides to speak.

“I’m glad you’re getting along well with Y/N.” She says with a hum, rubbing her face into my chest. I grunt when her hand squeezes my knee. “She appreciates it too, I know it. She doesn’t know many people in the city anymore.”

I tear my eyes away from the sex on tv to look Love in the eyes.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I have that thing with Forty. Someone seems a little forgetful tonight” I laugh and apologize, scolding myself. Of course… Tomorrow. I did forget. She turns her attention back to the movie. When I reluctantly return my own attention to the screen, I can’t help but scrutinise everything I see. Love seems pleased, watching the protagonist and her girlfriend lounge after what felt like the most drawn-out fucking I’d ever witnessed on tv. She’s probably thinking to herself: what a nice couple, happy, in love, and all tuckered out. But I feel differently. I see something I’m missing. We could be them, Love and I. But, instead of being wrapped in each other with more to do than to SAY, I think about the brick phone, I think about the lunch dates, I think about the selfishness of only reaching out when things became convenient, and I think about YOU. I think about the rust on your door, think about your dead mom, I think about how Love wants me to help you pack her things – like I’m some tool to be borrowed and Love’s the kind neighbour willing to lend – and I think about how Love touches you and I can’t help but wish I could crawl into your skin and rip you up from the inside.

The bell on your bag rings in my ears, jingling as you tap it over, and over again. Should I feel threatened by you? Because I do, even when everything about you proves to me you’re no threat at all. You’re meek, small, pathetic. Despite it all, you’ve stepped into my yard, trampled the very bushes I’ve trimmed and watered to perfection, and made yourself cozy against the love of my life. And, like a call to battle, the bell stirs something in me.

But you’re innocent, I cry in my head. You’re not Peach. You’re no evil mastermind, and stepping into someone else’s yard doesn’t mean much when you’re a helpless rabbit. Your mom is dead, you’re grieving. I think about you, in my car, curled in on yourself, skin exposed. Scared. I grit my teeth at the thought.

When Love departs, just after the movie ends, I spend some time catching up on your messages. That’s all I can really do, actually. With such an old model, your system doesn’t allow access to anything, anywhere, anytime. Just the text messages. I scroll to find your mention of me dropping by earlier.

‘Left my phone in Will’s car. He dropped it off.’

‘He’s the best <3’ Love responded.

About twenty minutes after that, Love let you know I’m replacing her tomorrow.

‘We can reschedule.’ You tried, but Love tells you the plans are already made. You can’t run from this. Neither can I.

I recline on my couch, huffing as I read as far as your messages go. I couldn’t get the older logs but anything you send from here on out, I have access to. When the late hours of the night finally catch up to me, I look out my window at the flickering street lights, and I head to bed.

#joe goldberg x reader #joe goldberg #love quinn #love quinn x reader #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #yandere joe goldberg #Joe Goldberg x Love Quinn

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holnnetd · 12 days ago

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Catfisher!König Part 2

Part 1, ..., Part 3, Part 4(I swear it will come. Someday.)

Warning: Suggestive content, brief mentions of pornography, a little misogyny, low-key incel behaviour, a lot of lingerie talk, just two guys being losers, please be 18 or older if you read this, or just don't tell me you're minor, I can't stop you from going anything tbh.

This is only fiction, please remember.

Ding!

Your phone has been going off for this whole time. It must be extremely important when someone starts sending you messages at 11 pm on a Friday night.

You come out of the shower, hair wrapped in a towel, (unless you don't have hair, in which case idk what to do) and another one around your body.

You got lucky enough to get a dorm on campus with no roommates. Bless god for that scholarship. Dorms are expensive!

Glancing at your phone you check what might be so important, only to see that it's a follow request on your Postagram. (Idk, I'm scared I will get copy righted when I forget that this fic exists)

You open your phone, glancing at the account. The profile pictures shows no face, but a fairly cute cat picture. Whatever.

Alexandria.69 viewed your profile

Alexandria.69 wants to follow you

Alexandria.69 wants to send you a message

That's... A creative name. For sure...

You tap on the icon and glance through the profile. 8 followers from faceless account and following 37 accounts. Mostly singers and political figures.

The only pictures posted is from 2 days ago. It's a selfie from a high angle and a cropped off face in a summer outfit.

Seems to be a new account, maybe she's new to Postagram. Yeah, seems about right.

You tap 'accept' and answer the message she sent. Worst case scenario it's just a scam. What could possibly happen?

Well, that was a dry text for sure...

Whatever. You get a weird feeling about that anyway, 8 faceless accounts is a suspicious smount. You tap off of Postagram and place your phone away to fully dry yourself off.

Yet the black screen on your phone doesn't stay for a long time as you get another,

Ding!

You got a message from Alexandria.69

You turn to glance back at your phone, debating if you want to keep on chatting with this oddly uncanny account.

But you prioritise changing into something more comfortable and plop onto your bed, quickly crawling under the covers before finally deciding to check what she wr-

Ding!

You have 2 unread messages from Alexandria.69

Ah... just as you reached for your phone, too. It's really rude to interrupt the narrat-

Ding!

Layla send a message

Well, at least it's not that strange account anymore. And you open the text from Layla, a close friend, checking what she send.

"Geez! We're having a blast man, you can still come" she texted, then attached a picture of her and 4 other girls from your class, all drinking and probably at the club, guys behind them, hands going to place they'd normally get slapped for touching...

Ever heard of FOMO? Fear of missing out? It's funny how strong it gets, even if you believe to be alright alone.

"Nah, I'm already in bed" you answer, not bothering to go out clubbing tonight.

Ding!

You have 3 unread messages from Alexandria.69

Okay, what the hell does she want?

"We have some mutuals actually 😊"

"You know Layla right?"

"The red head, I mean."

Well, that's attention grabbing.

And with sone hesitation you type back "Layla, yeah", the message being seen immediately. Seems like she doesn't have much else to do but chat with friends of friends, hm?

"She said you're like good with guys?"

A message came back and it baffled you at the boldness. Maybe confused a little.

Uh... that's an interesting comment to make. Good with guys? Is that what your best friends is saying about you to others?

"Well, I guess?"

You tap, thumb hovering over the sent button before pressing it, now interested where this conversation might go.

"It's embarrassing to say"

"but I have issues with talking to boys and uhm, I"

"Uh... could you help me out?"

That's... A little pathetic, but everyone has to start somewhere?

And it's not like you have much better things to do. Your friends are out, getting laid and you are stuck in bed, chatting with a girl that knows your friend?

"I think so?"

"Oh my god, really? Thank you so much!"

That's a little sad, asking a girl you don't know about advise on guys. But girls support girls.

"Do you have a crush?"

"Oh, yes. He's handsome but I don't know how I should make him notice me"

"He says I dress weirdly."

Well, then drop him. Please, have some self respect.

"Alex, sweetie, if he doesn't like how you wear your clothes then don't change for him."

You try to give advice she will find useful, or supportive, pretty oblivious to the fact that Alexandria is actually Alexander. And not just any Alexander.

Alexander Kilgore, the very same classmate that makes snide remarks about your looks.

"Oh come on. Cooperate a little." He gruffs out, tapping on his phone again.

"I know, but I really want him to like me."

"Jeez, needy cunt. You're really doing too much." Rody scoffs, looking at Königs Phone Screen, both of them trying to lure you into a sense of comfort. Well, König wants to do that. Rody is just here to make sure the big guy doesn't fuck up. Which he already did by calling himself Alexandria.69.

Like really? His name but gender swapped and threw in a 69? Please...

"I don't know how to dress up to catch his attention! I want to wear something more revealing."

He writes, instantly getting a hit on the back from Rody. "Jesus, pushy much? No woman straight up texts other women "yeah, I want to fuck him, help me find something to wear so he wants to fuck me too", you uncultured bastard."

König huffs at him, glancing onto his screen as you start typing back.

"Well, if that's really what you want."

You're not going to argue with a stranger about what she wears. It's not like you know her. It's not like you that she's not a her.

"Try wearing something low-cut. Maybe flash your cleavage? You could wear some lingerie under loose clothes and 'accidentally' stretch a little to show it off?"

Alex stares at the message, reading through it several times with huge eyes. That's really what you are telling to a girl on how to grab her crushes attention?

Now he wonders if you're doing that too to grab your crushes attention. "Shit, I knew she's hot, but that's a little freaky." Rody laughs, getting this time a jab from König.

"Lingerie? Which one? I don't know what would look sexy enough. Do you have some recommendations?"

The two guys sit on Königs bed, staring at the phone like two teenage girls writing to a crush.

"Well... Most men like red. But you can't go wrong with white or black, really. I have some red sets."

That send König into a blushing fit. Fucking pathetic. Please, he watches weird hardcore porn but gets flustered when a woman talks about lingerie.

"Oh thank you!"

Rody texts instead, quickly clicking off of Postagram to ensure König don't milk this newly found communication method.

For now, you don't suspect that it's actually a pathetic virgin loser writing as a girl, hoping to get some more information out of you, maybe a picture he can jack off to. God, that would be fucking hot. He wishes to have even a single picture of you, and your posts are too covered!

All while you sit in your bed, confused about the conversation. That was... interesting to say the least. But whatever. Some girls are just awkward, surely theres nothing more to it.

Yeah.

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abbysbodybag · 2 months ago

Text

Campus Secrets

abby anderson x reader

(first post as well) COLLEGE AU

description : you and abby are paired together as college roommates / FLUFF

part two? 🔞

Your bag is heavy, but the excitement of finally being on your own keeps your steps light as you make your way to your new dorm room. You reach the door, room 402, and take a deep breath before turning the handle, preparing to meet the stranger you’ll be living with for the next year.

But as you walk in, you’re met by the sight of a tall, muscular woman pulling a shirt over her head, revealing toned arms and a faint smile as she catches your wide-eyed look.

“Hey, you must be my roommate.” She grins, hand outstretched. “I’m Abby.”

For a second, you forget what words are, she’s gorgeous. Her blonde braid rests over one shoulder, her smile a bit too flashy and charming, and the way she’s looking at you is already making your cheeks heat up.

You clear your throat, setting your bag down to shake her hand. “Y/N,” you manage to say. Her hand is warm and firm, and it’s hard not to notice how she looks at you, a bit too knowingly, like she’s already read every flustered thought in your mind.

“So,” Abby says, crossing her arms and leaning against the bed, “you’re okay with bunk beds, right? Or should we just flip a coin and see who gets the top?”

You shrug, trying to play it cool. “I mean, unless you’re scared of heights,” you tease.

She laughs, her eyes lighting up. “Scared of heights? Not exactly. I think I’ll be fine as long as my pretty new roommate doesn’t snore.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Pretty bold assumption, considering we just met.”

Abby tilts her head, her grin widening as her gaze drops to your bags. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough, huh?”

You feel your pulse race as you realize how close she’s standing. “Yeah, guess we will.”

The rest of the afternoon goes by with a surprising ease, the two of you unpacking, sharing stories about hometowns, and trading jokes. Each time her shoulder brushes yours or she throws you a sly smile, you feel that blush creeping back. It’s almost too comfortable.

Later, as the sun sets, she stretches, yawning. “You up for grabbing a coffee? You know, to celebrate surviving move-in day?”

You nod, grabbing your keys. “ready when you are.”

As you walk through campus together, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this year with Abby might be a lot more interesting than you’d expected.

The coffee shop is buzzing with the usual college crowd, but with Abby by your side, it feels like the two of you are in your own little world. You grab a cozy corner table, and as she stirs sugar into her coffee, you catch her glancing at you, one brow raised.

“So, Y/N,” she says, leaning forward with that same mischievous glint in her eyes, “what’s the most rebellious thing you’ve ever done?”

You smirk, taking a sip of your drink to buy a moment. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe this.” You hold her gaze and casually reach over to steal a sugar packet from her side of the table.

Abby laughs, a deep, genuine sound that draws a few curious looks from nearby tables. “Oh, risky. I better watch out for you, huh?”

“Hey, don’t judge me. I’m new here. Maybe I just haven’t had the chance to get into trouble yet,” you shoot back.

She tilts her head, pretending to consider. “Well, I’m sure we can fix that. I’ve been here a year already. Got all the shortcuts, best spots, even know where to sneak into the field house after hours.”

“After hours?” you echo, eyes widening. “Are you always this much of a rule-breaker?”

Abby shrugs, looking unbothered, but there’s a flicker of excitement in her eyes. “Life’s too short to follow all the rules, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes, trying to mask the way her confidence makes your heart beat a little faster. “Big words from someone who looks like they were probably on the varsity team in high school.”

“Guilty,” she admits, smirking. “I played soccer. What about you? Any sports?”

You laugh. “I don’t think binge-watching counts as a sport.”

“Not officially, but I’m sure you’d make it competitive,” she says, grinning. “How about this—since you’re new and all, I’ll show you around campus tomorrow. A private tour, Abby-style.”

“A private tour, huh?” You raise an eyebrow, trying to sound casual as your stomach does a little flip.

She leans back, that playful spark still in her gaze. “Yeah. The kind where we hit all the best spots… and maybe skip a few of the official ones.”

You try not to smile too wide. “Guess I can’t turn down a tour from someone who knows all the secrets.”

“Smart choice.” Abby reaches across the table, tapping your hand. “Prepare yourself, Y/N. I’m about to make this the best college experience you could imagine.”

She smiles at you with a sparkle behind her eye. You couldn’t help but notice the fidgeting she does with her hands when she speaks to you, and how It stops whenever you look down.

#abby anderson #abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson x reader #tlou abby #abby tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #tlou

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misshoneyimhome · 1 month ago

Note

How would William react to this??? I'm sure he would worship our inexperienced reader from behind also, I can totally picture the wags posting the picture to hype her up.

https://www.instagram.com/p/DCM4ZrSygtR/

Ok, babe, I’m not sure if this is exactly what you were thinking of, but it’s just what came to my mind 😅🙈 I hope you enjoy this short, little blurb - William being possessive and protective has a special place in my heart, and I might’ve gone a little extra with the intensity (but we love it, right?)

Let me know what you think 💕

➼｡ﾟ

It had been one of those perfect summer afternoons. The sun was high, casting a golden hue over the city as you spent the day with the other wives and girlfriends of the team, enjoying drinks by the pool and soaking in the rare moment of relaxation. You hadn’t expected much attention, just a chill day away from the usual hustle, but that all changed when the photos started going up.

You’d chosen a simple yet stunning outfit—a dark brown bikini that clung perfectly to your body, showing off the curves William loved so much. It wasn’t overly revealing, but it had a sensual, understated vibe that made it hard for anyone to look away. The moment you stepped out, the girls couldn’t resist snapping photos of you posing, lounging by the pool, enjoying the sunshine.

You had noticed the looks, but you were more focused on the laughter, the jokes, and the chatter. But it didn’t take long before the notifications started flooding your phone.

“Queen 👑🔥🔥🔥”

“Serving looks as usual 😍”

“You are everything 💯💯💯”

“That bikini’s on fire 🔥🔥”

Men and women alike were commenting, giving you their praise, all while you tried to ignore the lingering feeling that you were being watched—by the girls and now, by the world.

The last notification that popped up made your stomach flip. “Looking gorgeous, as always. So much fire 🔥.” You stared at it, seeing that it was a message from a fan. Before you could even process it fully, a few more appeared, some flirty, some just admiring the way you looked, others bold enough to cross the line.

But it wasn’t the comments themselves that set your nerves alight—it was the thought of how William would react when he saw them. You couldn’t ignore the possessiveness that always came from him. The way his eyes burned when anyone dared to look at you, even just a little too long. And today, it felt like every guy—and some of the women—were looking.

Later that evening, you returned to your shared place, the warm evening air still carrying the echoes of laughter and conversation. You slipped inside, trying to be nonchalant, but as soon as you entered, you were greeted by William’s piercing gaze.

He didn’t say anything right away, but you could feel his eyes on you like a brand. His jaw was tense, his posture rigid, and you had a feeling he’d already seen the pictures - and more importantly; the comments. The air around you was heavy with unspoken words.

“I saw what went up on Instagram today,” he said, his voice low but filled with a possessive edge. He leaned against the doorframe, his eyes never leaving you.

You shifted uncomfortably, playing with the straps of your bag. “Yeah, the girls were snapping pics. I didn’t think much of it.”

William’s gaze darkened as he pushed off the frame, walking toward you. “You didn’t think much of it?” His voice was sharp now, but there was a certain heat underneath it that made your heart race. “You’ve got every guy and girl in the city commenting on how gorgeous you look, and you didn’t think much of it?”

He was standing in front of you now, his presence overwhelming. You swallowed, meeting his gaze. “It’s just… pictures, Willy. It’s not a big deal.”

He let out a soft, almost disbelieving chuckle. “Not a big deal?” He took a step closer, his breath warm against your skin. “You really think they don’t all want you? You think they’re not imagining all the ways they could touch you?”

The possessiveness in his tone had a delicious, intoxicating effect on you. You’d always known William could be intense, but tonight, it was like something had shifted—something darker, more primal.

Before you could respond, he gently cupped your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes were intense, filled with a fire that had you shivering.

“You’re mine,” he growled softly. “Don’t forget that." His hands slid down your arms, pulling you closer as he leaned in, his lips brushing the side of your neck. You could feel his breath against your skin, the heat building between you both. “And from now on, every time you post a picture like that, just remember—no one else gets to have you like I do.”

Your pulse quickened, and before you could form a reply, he kissed you. His lips were urgent, demanding, as if he was making a point, reminding you of who you belonged to.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes were blazing with intensity, but there was something deeper in them, too—affection. Worship, even.

“You don’t get to tease me like that without consequences,” he muttered, voice thick with desire. “I’ll make sure you remember who your boyfriend is.”

You weren’t sure whether it was the way he was looking at you or the way his hands were roaming, but something inside you snapped. You didn’t want to resist. You wanted to surrender to the way he made you feel—like you were the only one that mattered, the only one he’d ever see.

William smirked, reading your expression like an open book. “That’s what I thought.” His lips descended on yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as though savoring the moment.

And you melted into him, knowing that tonight, you’d be reminded in the most unforgettable way who you belonged to.

#my asks #wn88 imagine #inexperienced!reader x willy #william nylander imagine #william nylander x reader #william nylander blurb #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl imagines

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five-and-dimes · 4 months ago

Text

Every Hand to Hold

For the Dreaming Bingo prompt: Threesome

Rating: Explicit

Ship: Dream/Hob/Calliope

Warnings: None

Additional Tags: Immortal Throuple, hurt/comfort, miscommunications, Dream's terrible horrible no good self esteem, happy ending

Summary: Inspired by this post from @cuubism (specifically her tags) that my brain then fully ran away with. Dream thinks it's wild that two separate gorgeous brunettes decided to start hooking up with him, but he's not complaining, even if he does get a little more heartbroken than he should when they both stop seeing him within a week of each other.

Read on AO3

It started with Calliope.

Dream had been wandering aimlessly in a small, secondhand bookstore when he had turned the corner and crashed into a woman with her arms so full of books she could barely see over them. Mortified, Dream had apologized and immediately began gathering up the books she had dropped, all of them either poetry collections or textbooks on the history of poetry. He had shyly inquired about her selections, and she had happily spoken at length about all of them, Dream immediately enamored with her passion and intelligence. She said her name was Calliope, and then she had dragged Dream into a small storage closet and pushed him to his knees.

And then a week later, he had met Hob. Dream had been sitting in the park, quietly feeding the birds, when a handsome man had sauntered over and asked if the seat next to him was taken. His boldness was startling, the way he sprawled next to Dream and kept an easy conversation going even as Dream fumbled. He had a warmth about him, a bright laugh that never felt like it was directed at Dream, and it had been a shock when, despite the long list of things Dream knew he had gotten wrong during their interaction, Hob had leaned forward and grinned.

“So. Your place or mine?”

Dream lived closer.

It all seemed to happen so fast. Dream was no stranger to the occasional one night stand, something quick and simple to ease his loneliness for even a moment, but never had he been propositioned by two beautiful people in such quick succession. And he’d certainly never had people want to see him again. He had been so flattered when Calliope had asked for his number, and even more so when she actually used it, asking if they could meet again, preferably in an actual bed this time. Hob had left his own number on Dream’s nightstand, and Dream had felt foolishly optimistic when he texted him to let him know Dream’s number as well, but he was glad he did when Hob texted back a few days later, wanting to fool around again. While he had long given up on the hope of ever being relationship material, he thought he could handle some simple hookups.

Apparently he was wrong.

Dream never had the courage to text either of them first, but at least once a week one of them invited themselves over and Dream would clear his schedule. They were both confident and clear about what they wanted, and Dream felt such relief at how easy they made it for him. He didn’t have to guess and worry about getting it wrong- all he had to do was go where their hands guided him. It was simple. He would bend over backwards to make them happy, give them anything and everything they could possibly want from him, because even if they never stayed long, it was enough that they kept coming back. He just wanted them to keep coming back.

After almost two months, Dream had been typing and retyping a message to Hob, trying to ask if maybe sometime they could grab a drink before going to bed together. Even if Dream wasn’t cut out for a romantic relationship, maybe he could at least convince Hob to a friends-with-benefits situation? He thought maybe he could be good enough to be called a friend. And Hob was so kind to him.

Before he has a chance to hit send though, Hob texts him first.

Hey, I’m sorry, but I don’t think we should meet up anymore. Thanks for all the fun times though!

Dream feels his heart sink.

Is everything alright?

What happened?

What did I do wrong?

Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you

Please

I don’t want to be alone anymore

He types, and deletes, and types, and deletes, and ignores the way his vision blurs.

Okay

He puts his phone on silent, but it doesn’t matter. Hob never responds.

A few days later, he decides that he must be brave quicker this time. So he steels himself, and texts Calliope to ask if she would like to join him at a poetry reading the local library was putting on.

As friends, he is quick to add on. He would not dare to reach for more than that. He does not think he is being unreasonable though. Calliope likes poetry, is a writer herself, and at a reading she will not even have to worry about dealing with Dream’s stilted attempts at conversation. They can simply sit silently together, and enjoy other people’s words, and she can put his mouth to better uses afterwards. It’s perfect.

I don’t think that’s a good idea

Dream wants to cry. He is mid apology, typing rapidly about how he did not mean to overstep, they could just keep their current arrangement, it’s fine, really. But another message comes through before he has a chance to send it.

I don’t think we should see each other at all anymore

He stares at the message for what feels like ages, his own rambling words still sitting uselessly in the text box. Finally, he deletes his reply slowly, typing a new response.

I understand.

He doesn’t though. He really, really, doesn’t.

It’s not like Dream isn’t used to being dumped- most people grew sick of him and his flaws eventually. But he had thought he was at least a good enough lay for them to stick around for a little longer. He had tried so hard not to let too much of his undesirable qualities show during their nights together, and they had always seemed more than satisfied with his performance in bed. So where did he go wrong?

Maybe they could just… tell. Maybe they could sense each time he touched them that he was putting too much of his heart into it, that he was too attached, too desperate, too hungry for more.

He recalls the way his sibling had laughed at him when he had stated that he had given up on dating.

“Please,” they had drawled, “You’ll always be going after someone. You bleed neediness. Sometimes I think you’ll stain my couch with it.”

Maybe they were right. Maybe Calliope and Hob had grown tired of having to wash off his desperation after each encounter. After all, it was just supposed to be casual sex, and here he was, nursing a heart broken twice over, proving them all right. He had no one to blame but himself.

It wasn’t a breakup. He hadn’t been together with either of them, not in any way that truly mattered. He couldn’t tell his sister, or one of his few friends, why he was even more morose than usual. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to explain that he kept checking his phone, didn’t want to make plans or go out just in case one of them changed their mind and contacted him, wanted to be available just in case either of them decided they weren’t done with him yet?

He allowed himself a few weeks to wallow, to mourn, and then, as much as a petulant part of him didn’t want to, Dream knew he had to move on. So when he receives an email informing him of an event at a local bar, he makes plans to attend. Galleria was a favorite of Dream’s, as they displayed pieces from local artists throughout their establishment. It was one of the first places to showcase Dream’s own art, and he has been a regular in their rotation for years now. As such, despite generally avoiding crowds, Dream always made an effort to support the shows of all the artists they featured.

So he would go. He would absorb himself in new artwork, have a few drinks, maybe throw himself into a one night stand that he would make sure actually remained a one night stand. He would distract himself. There wasn’t much else he could do.

It works, at first. The crowd is not overwhelming, but still a good turn out for the young artist greeting people by the door. Dream accepts a postcard with her information and then splurges on a nicer glass of wine to sip on as he meanders through the bar, weaving through tables to take in the newly hung paintings. He waves awkwardly at the managers who luckily know him well enough to simply wave back instead of starting a conversation, and Dream finds himself actually feeling alright for the first time in weeks.

And then he sees Hob and Calliope.

Together.

Not only together, but together. Holding hands and clearly a couple, each with a drink in their free hands as they chatted with another patron, their shoulders brushing as they leaned together to make room for the people moving around them. Dream can see their lips moving, one after the other, probably finishing each others’ sentences with the ease of two people who belonged together.

Dream feels like the scum of the earth. For all the love in his heart, he never wanted to ruin anyone else’s. He never wanted to be a home-wrecker.

He is so frozen in horror that he could barely move, the reality of the situation washing over him like ice water, so when Hob and Calliope finally turn and see him, he is still staring, wide-eyed. They stare back, and then look at each other, and Dream sees their mouths moving rapidly, everything coming to light no doubt, and Dream finally manages to get his body to move, to run. He put his glass on the first flat surface he sees and takes off, desperate to escape. But of course, he can’t even do that right, and he soon realizes that in his panic he has run in the opposite direction of the exit, instead standing pressed against the back wall. Trapped. It feels too risky to turn back, and so instead he flings himself into the thankfully single-person restroom, locking the door before leaning heavily against it.

Everything feels ruined, so much worse than it had felt even just a few hours ago. It had been bad enough losing both of them, feeling thrown away and heartbroken yet again. Now, even the memories are tainted. Seeing Hob and Calliope together had opened his eyes in the worst way. They had looked so right together, both of them so beautiful and shining and bright, glowing smiles and cheerful laughs. Of course Dream wasn’t good enough for either of them. He only hopes that he hasn’t inadvertently destroyed their relationship.

Dream presses his fists against his eyes, fighting back tears. He feels caught between sorrow and rage and shame. They hadn’t told him. He never would have taken either of them up on their offers if they had told him.

A swift series of knocks on the door makes him jump, and he quickly chokes out, “Occupied!” He just needs a little longer to pull himself together.

Unfortunately, a familiar voice calls back, “Dream?”

Hob’s voice is calm, no immediate rage or hatred, but it doesn’t make Dream’s heart pound any less. Especially when another voice joins him.

“Can we talk to you?” Calliope asks gently, “Please?”

She doesn’t sound angry either, but Dream can’t bring himself to trust it. Still. He knows he must face them. Whatever happens, he has been cornered and there is nowhere to go but forward.

His hands shake as he flips the lock, opening the door with resignation. In front of him, the two people he had grown so attached to- the two people who had, within a week of each other, cut him out of their lives- were smiling at him. Hob had an arm around Calliope’s shoulder, and they were both dressed nicely for the event. They were somehow even more beautiful standing together.

Hob grinned, “Fancy meeting you here, stranger,” he said teasingly.

Something about the ease in their posture, their casual smiles, Hob’s joking greeting, ignites a flicker of fury in him.

“Neither of you told me,” he snaps. They both blink, surprised by the outburst, and he struggles to continue, to get it all out before he either loses his nerve or starts crying, “Neither of you said you had a partner. So if- if you’re upset-… do not be upset with me, because I didn’t know.” He wishes he sounded more angry, but he can’t fully conceal his desperation, or the way his hands shake at his sides, “It’s not my fault.”

Please believe me, he doesn’t say, please forgive me.

Hob raised his hands, “Hey, no, Dream, everything is fine,” he smiled sympathetically, “Nobody did anything wrong, I promise. Calliope and I are in an open relationship. It’s all okay.”

Dream blinked in surprise, feeling the adrenaline slowly bleed out of him, “Oh.”

“We did not mean to keep it a secret,” Calliope chimed in, winding an arm around Hob’s waist and looking at him fondly, “we both have a tendency to get caught up in our… excursions. Sometimes we forget that details might be appreciated.”

Looking between the two of them, Dream thinks he finally gets it. Perhaps they had been attracted to the novelty of him at first. His sickly pale skin versus their golden tans. His sharp bonyness when they are both full and soft. But of course that novelty could only last so long, especially if each time they left him they were going home to each other. He never had a chance of comparing.

“I… am glad,” he responds slowly, awkwardly, “When I saw you both… I had been worried…”

“Understandable,” Hob replies, “And we really are sorry. Didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression.”

Dream shifts uncomfortably, “I apologize. For snapping at you.”

“There is no need,” Calliope reassures, waving the apology away, “We caught you off guard, and we should have told you about our situation from the beginning.”

“But, now that we’re all on the same page…” Hob drawls, rocking on his heels as he glances between Dream and Calliope, “I know I- or, both of us, apparently- texted you to call our whole arrangement off, but…”

He trails off, giving Dream a pointed look that Dream doesn’t understand at all. His mouth opens, but he has no idea what Hob is talking about, what he’s supposed to say.

Placing a hand on Hob’s arm, Calliope continues, “But now, the arrangement has changed,” she explains, looking at Dream intently, “Now we know that we both desire you, and our interests are aligned in a way we had not realized before. And so we were wondering if you might be willing to give us another chance. So that we might be with you… together.”

For a long moment, all Dream can do is stare.

“...Together?”

His voice cracks on the word, and Hob and Calliope nod eagerly, looking at him hopefully, and Dream feels lightheaded. He had been resigned to Hob and Calliope not being a part of his life anymore, and after weeks of wishing he could have at least had more time to prepare, now he was being given it. One more night, at the very least.

Surely that’s better than nothing.

“Okay.”

The word is barely out of his mouth when Hob nearly leaps forward to kiss him. Dream thinks he might have fallen to the ground if not for Hob’s hands gripping his hips as he kisses him deeply. It is hungry, biting, impatient. Hob must have been really aching for a threesome if he was this eager already, Dream thinks. When Calliope tugs Hob away to claim Dream’s mouth with her own, he wonders if she had been wanting this for a while, too.

“We don’t live far from here,” Calliope says, breathless, “Just a few blocks. If you’d like to come to ours this time.”

Dream nods obediently, still trying to catch his breath as Calliope takes his hand and Hob wraps an arm around his waist. They guide him out of the bar swiftly and efficiently, letting out little huffs of laughter as they speed down the sidewalk. Hob’s hand drifts down to squeeze his arse and Dream feels inexplicably nauseous.

They really do live quite close, and far too soon Dream is being led up a short flight of stairs, Calliope and Hob giggling at each other playfully as they disentangle just enough to tumble through the door of their apartment. Dream closes the door behind him mechanically, and when he looks, Hob and Calliope are kissing. It is heated, and passionate, and they move together with the practiced ease of two people who have loved each other for a long time. He thinks again of how right they look together. And it suddenly occurs to him how wrong he must look next to them.

And he should be grateful. He knows he should be grateful. He had thought that he had lost them forever, and yet here they were, inviting him into their home for a night of pleasure, a chance to be useful to both of them. He should be honored that out of everyone, out of all the people so much better than him, they chose Dream to be the toy they brought into bed to spice up their relationship.

“I can’t.”

His voice cracks on the words, choked out before he can think better of it. Hob and Calliope part, turning to look at him in confusion. Part of him wishes he hadn’t said anything at all, almost wants to take it back, but he can’t. He had done this before, had tried so hard to be what they wanted. But he couldn’t do this and not get his heart broken again.

“I’m sorry, I…. I thought I could…. I can’t do this, I’m sorry.”

His whole body is shaking, and he’s breathless, eyes downcast because he can’t bring himself to face whatever disgust is surely on their faces. His hand fumbles for the doorknob, ready to flee into the night, but soft fingers on his wrist still him. Glancing up through his eyelashes, he finds Hob standing before him, eyes shining with concern.

“Hey, hey… “ he soothes, running his hand up and down Dream’s arm, “It’s alright, dove, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want. But I’m a little uncomfortable letting you run off when you’re clearly so upset.”

Calliope steps forward, taking Dream’s other hand, “Will you talk to us, starlight?”

The pet names make it harder. If he closes his eyes he thinks he could pretend that they actually want him. And that’s exactly why he can’t do this.

“I…like you,” he admits, looking away in shame, “Both of you. And I know I should be happy that you find me good enough to, to even just have sex with you, but… I’m greedy.” All his previous partners had come to hate him for it. For always wanting and wanting and wanting. He was too romantic, too much, too high maintenance, yet somehow also too cold, too awkward, too distant. The best he can hope for now is to leave before they come to truly resent him. “I want… more. More than just sex, and. And I do not think I can do this and just walk away when it’s over.” He doesn’t want to hear them tell him to leave.

He lowers his voice to a whisper, “It is better that I just. Go now.”

There is a long pause, and he waits for them to let him go, perhaps call him stupid or express their annoyance at having brought him all the way here only for him to not deliver. Perhaps they will just shove him out the door and be done with it.

“Oh, Dream…” Hob’s voice is soft, and sorrowful, and he brings Dream’s hand up to clutch it between both of his own. When he glances up, Hob looks… shattered.

“We’re so, so sorry,” Calliope whispers, bringing a hand to rest on Dream’s cheek, “We should have been clearer,” she tugs Dream down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead so he can feel her words against his skin, “We like you too.”

Dream feels his breath catch in his chest. His eyes are wide with disbelief, but as Calliope leans back, Hob nods in agreement, “Apparently we were both being fools,” he smiles self-deprecatingly,“We have an open relationship, yeah, but the reason I called things off with you was because… I was catching feelings,” he admits softly. Then he laughs bashfully, “And I was too chicken to just talk to Calliope about it.”

Calliope shook her head, smiling sadly, “We truly are a pair, because that is the exact reason I put a stop to our trysts as well.”

“So when we saw you, and we realized we’d both been going after the same person, it all came out,” Hob continued. Dream can barely breathe, his mind racing as he thinks back to how Calliope and Hob had looked at Dream, and then each other, how they had leaned in to talk and gesture with each other. “When we said we wanted to be together with you, we meant together. We want you as our partner. We just… didn’t know we could have you like that. Until tonight.”

They want him.

Dream opens his mouth to say something- are you sure, thank you, you won’t regret it, I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be good- but all that comes out is a sob.

“Oh, oh our poor darling,” Calliope cooed, and then her arms are around him, pulling him close and guiding him to lay his head on her shoulder. She pets the hairs at the nape of his neck, her voice heavy with sadness as she whispers against his ear, “You came here with us, and the whole time you thought we were bringing you here to use you?”

Dream wants to rid her voice of the note of guilt he can hear. They did nothing wrong, nothing at all. But before he can get any words out to shift the blame onto himself where it belongs, Hob runs his hands up his back, massaging lightly as he leans in to speak into Dream’s other ear.

“You are far too important for that,” Dream feels his breath hitch, and Hob nuzzles against his neck, “We didn’t bring you here just to fuck you. We want to love you. Will you let us?”

It is everything Dream has ever wanted, and it hardly feels real. He shakes and shivers as he’s held between the two of them, surrounded by their warmth and the soothing sound of their voices as they comfort him.

Eventually, his breath evens, and he is able to pull away slightly, dropping his gaze to the floor. He can feel his face heat with embarrassment. He was making a scene, all because he had misunderstood what was being asked of him, and now as a result he wasn’t giving them anything.

He takes a few shuddering breaths, trying to formulate an apology, something that will convince them that they aren’t making a huge mistake. But before he gets a chance, Hob wraps his arms around his waist from behind.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Hob drawls, his lips pressed to Dream’s neck but his words directed at Calliope, “but when Dream and I had sex, he was always so generous. Only wanted to focus on me and my pleasure, never his own. Got all shy when I tried to return the favor. I get the feeling it might have been similar with you?”

Dream feels himself flush as Calliope hums, running her hands up Dream’s chest languidly, “Hm, yes. So attentive, so eager to please, to do whatever I wanted. Never so much as mentioned his own wants.” Her tone is nearly scolding, and Dream feels lost and frozen.

Then he feels Hob grin, “Well then…” he bites at Dream’s ear, while the tips of his fingers dip beneath the waistband of his jeans, drawing a gasp from Dream’s lips, “sounds like it’s your turn now, Love.”

Calliope tugs at his shirt, stepping backwards as she guides all of them further into the apartment, “Will you let us take care of you? Show you how much we want you?”

Following helplessly, Dream blushes and stutters, so far removed from their confidence and surety. He wonders if this is a joke. They cannot truly want a foolish mess like him.

“Whatever you want,” he croaks, “You can do whatever you want.”

They enter the bedroom, and Hob flicks on some dim lights as Calliope takes Dream’s chin in her hand. She looks sad.

“That,” she states softly, “is not the answer we’re looking for.”

Dream fears he might burst into tears again at her soft chastisement, but luckily Hob steps in, lightly removing Calliope’s hand as he peppers Dream’s face with kisses.

“It’s alright, Love,” he smiles against Dream’s cheek, “we’ll work on it.” There’s a promise in his voice that makes Dream shiver. “For now, just know that what we want,” he cups Dream’s face in one hand to speak against his lips, “is to give you everything you want.”

Swallowing thickly, Dream bites back words about how he doesn’t know what he wants. He just wants them to stay. He wants to be good enough, he wants to be worthwhile enough. He wants them to stay.

But he is distracted from his thoughts when Calliope steals him away from Hob for a kiss of her own. She tilts her head back, offering her mouth for Dream’s tongue to explore shyly as she dips her hands beneath his shirt. Hob walks around her, standing at her back and brushing her hair over her shoulder as he unzips her dress. She moans against Dream’s mouth, biting down gently on his lower lip as Hob kisses between her shoulder blades. The dress falls easily to the floor, allowing her to step out of it gracefully, and even after all the numerous times they have slept together, Dream still finds himself staring in awe at her. Her bra and panties are a muted lavender colored lace, contrasting against her golden skin beautifully. In the dim room he can just make out the soft, dark hairs along her arms and legs, and he cannot resist reaching out to run his fingers along the edge of her panties, where he knows just below is hiding a thatch of dark curls.

Reaching out, Calliope covers Dream’s hands with her own, pressing them more firmly into the soft flesh of her hips. Behind her, Hob unclasps her bra, tossing it to the side as she steps out of her underwear. Once she is naked, she turns to Hob, smiling gently as she unbuttons his shirt.

Dream watches, enamored as Calliope kisses along Hob’s jaw as she unbuckles his belt, Hob nearly ripping his clothes off as soon as every button is undone. They are beautiful together, Calliope leaning up to press her breasts against Hob’s hair covered body as they kiss. He wants to paint them, to try to capture the way their beauty only enhances each other.

Then, they turn to look at him, and Dream feels frozen under the combined weight of their piercing gazes. A part of him wishes he could turn the lights completely off, could hide in the darkness to try to make his lacking less obvious, and he moves his arms jerkily to hug his middle.

And yet, as Calliope and Hob descend on him, their eyes are full of appreciation.

“We haven’t forgotten you, gorgeous,” Hob grins, leaning in to kiss at Dream’s neck as he slides his hands under his shirt. Dream gasps as his fingers ghost over his nipples. Calliope runs her hands along his arms, guiding him to raise them as Hob pulls his shirt over his head. They are so warm, and when he closes his eyes, he forgets for a moment how ridiculous he must look between them, getting lost in the sensation of hands running over his skin reverently. Before, they were always in a hurry. Either coming to Dream before work or an appointment, or at the end of the day before returning home. It was not uncommon for only the minimal amount of undressing necessary to happen, and certainly it was never a drawn out affair.

Neither of them had ever undressed him themselves, never unzipped his jeans like they were unwrapping a present, never smoothed their hands over his exposed skin like he was something to savor.

“Breathe, darling.”

Dream startles at Hob’s gentle reminder, gasping sharply because he had, in fact, been holding his breath. Hob smiles encouragingly, dragging his hands over Dream’s ribs to feel the way they expand with each breath, pulling him close and nuzzling behind his ear and inhaling happily. Hesitantly, Dream wraps his arms around Hob, letting his fingers trace the strong muscles of his back. His grip tightens when he feels Calliope press a kiss to the base of his spine as she slides his jeans and underwear down his legs, gripping his shins as she helps him to step out of them.

Even biting his lip cannot fully stifle the gasp as she stands, the soft swell of her breasts pressing into his back at the same time as he becomes aware of the heat of Hob’s cock sliding against his hip. His own erection is a distant thought, and it feels insignificant in comparison to the scratch of Calliope’s pubic hair against his arse, and the way Hob pulls him in for another kiss.

A soft whine escapes him as Calliope steps away, feeling cold without her warmth to blanket him. Hob hushes him gently, moving them both to follow after her, and when Dream turns to look, he sees Calliope moving onto the bed. She leans against the headboard, legs spread wide, and holds a hand out, beckoning Dream to her. Dream feels a brief sense of relief at the familiarity, moving to crawl between her legs, ready and eager to bring her pleasure. To earn his keep.

But before he can reach her, there is a hand on his arm, twisting him around until he is facing Hob. He grins, and pulls Dream into a heated kiss, his tongue exploring his mouth when Dream gasps. As he deepens the kiss, he presses forward, crowding against Dream until he begins to crawl backwards. Hob continues to guide him back, barely giving him a chance to breathe, and before he knows it his back is pressing against Calliope’s chest. She wastes no time gripping Dream’s waist, tugging him even closer as she mouths at his neck. Her legs bracket his hips, and her tongue is tracing the shell of his ear, and Hob still hasn’t let up his kissing, and Dream feels dizzy on their attention.

When Hob finally leans back, Dream is panting, and Hob has a look of pride at how worked up he’s gotten him. Dream feels overwhelmed, and they’ve barely even done anything.

Hob sits back on his heels, resting his hands on Dream’s ankles and smiling softly, “Will you open up for me, sweetheart?”

Dream didn’t even realize, but his knees were pressed together so hard it was nearly painful. Yet even with the realization he could not bring himself to spread his legs. This felt backwards. No matter what they said, it felt wrong not to be focusing on them. They were already giving him so much.

“You do not need to…” he choked out, pressing his legs together even harder and drawing them towards his chest, so afraid of asking for too much despite not having asked at all. “I… I do not mind- truly, I don’t, I-”

His words are cut off by the feeling of hands running up his thighs, Calliope’s chest pressing against his back as she gently brushed from hip to knee. At the same time, in unison, like the practiced couple they are, Hob drags his hands up Dream’s shins. They meet in the middle, Hob and Calliope lacing their fingers over Dream’s knees. And together, they gently pry his legs apart, until he is left open and exposed in front of them.

“There you are,” Calliope breathes in his ear, her hands slipping back down to stroke at his hip bones. Hob takes advantage of the distraction to slip his torso between Dream’s legs, peppering soft kisses up his leg. Dream shivers at the touch, Hob hooking one leg over his shoulder to stroke his flank as he kisses the inside of his knee.

“I couldn’t help but notice,” Calliope purrs, running a hand through Hob’s hair to get his attention as she smirks down at him, “he always made the prettiest noises when I scratched at his inner thighs.”

Hob looks up, grinning mischievously, and before Dream has a chance to brace himself, he grazes his teeth across his skin and then bites, putting just enough force to leave the slightest indent of teeth. Dream slaps a hand over his mouth as he keens, his toes curling, and when Hob grins he can feel his teeth.

“So sensitive,” he says, clearly delighted, “but I didn’t quite hear you love.”

As he moves to Dream’s other thigh, Calliope takes Dream’s wrist and pulls his hand away from his mouth. She holds both his hands as she wraps her arms around his chest until his arms are crossed. With her gentle restraint, he cannot muffle his sounds as Hob drags his teeth all the way to where his thigh creases.

It is overwhelming, so much sensation all at once. Hob sucks and bites at his thighs, leaving a trail of little love bites behind, and Calliope loosens her hold as she begins to stroke at his nipples, an embarrassing squeak escaping him as she pinches just as Hob bites down. Trembling, Dream can’t help but shrink into himself as much as he can. Head bowed, Calliope’s arms preventing him from curling over as her clever fingers play with his chest, Hob’s body preventing his legs from snapping shut at each graze of teeth. It is so good. It is also so much, and when he feels Calliope raise a hand to his hair he flinches, bracing himself without meaning to.

Hob’s eyes dart up to look at him, and Dream does his best to exhale, to relax, to act normal for once. Pulling back just slightly, Hob rests his head against Dream’s leg, one hand petting his thigh softly. His other hand reaches out to tap Calliope’s knee, drawing her attention as he hums thoughtfully.

“He’d never admit it, but he doesn’t like having his hair pulled.”

Dream feels himself flush, eyes wide with embarrassment and looking at Hob with shock. He has no idea how Hob figured that out, he thought he hid it pretty well, and he feels a stab of betrayal at being called out. He feels Calliope suck in a breath behind him, and just knows she’s thinking of all the times she had gripped his hair harshly, twisting and tugging as Dream pleasured her, his discomfort hidden between her legs.

It was worth it, though. He would do anything for them.

Hob looks at him a little sadly, and Dream wonders how much of his thoughts are written plainly across his face. His eyes move to Calliope, smiling at her as he continues, “But if you just scratch his scalp lightly? He’ll melt under your hands.”

Calliope moves before Dream has a chance to respond, and he can’t hold back a shuddering sigh as he feels her manicured nails run through his hair, just barely grazing his skin. She does it again, and again, and Dream’s eyes close in bliss.

Tears sting at the corner of his eyes, and he swallows thickly as he forces himself to speak, “You… you can pull. If you want to.”

Calliope hums, but makes no move to stop her gentle petting, “I don’t want to, actually, thank you.”

He’s doing this all wrong, but the tears escape despite his best efforts. He feels his chest hitch and he waits for Hob and Calliope’s frustration, their impatience, their jeering mockery. It never comes. Everything seems to slow down for a moment, both of them just petting him, holding him, quietly giving him the chance to catch his breath.

Almost without noticing, he finds himself relaxing. Just as Hob predicted, Dream slowly melts back against Calliope as she continues stroking his hair, sinking against her chest as the rigid tension he had been holding himself with slowly bleeds out of him. His legs fall open a little wider, no longer pressed against Hob’s shoulders with locked muscles. The tears slow, his breath evens, and his eyes drift shut. Calliope presses a kiss to his damp cheek, and Hob nuzzles against his hip bone, and it feels good without feeling like he’s going to drown in it.

“There’s a love,” Hob whispers against his skin, “We’ve got you. No need to rush. We’re more than happy to take our time with you.”

Leaning up, Hob trails kisses up Dream’s stomach and chest, until he finally reaches his mouth and presses against him deeply. Dream sighs against his mouth, letting his head drop back onto Calliope’s shoulder as she claims Hob’s lips next. The overwhelming fire has calmed to a simmering warmth, and when Calliope turns her head to kiss him, Hob’s movement makes him gasp as their cocks briefly brush against each other. He hears Hob whine softly as well.

He is panting again when Calliope moves to suck at his neck, and he feels Hob grin as he places wet, open mouthed kisses across his stomach, chin just barely brushing against his straining cock. With the tension eased out of him, he finds himself unable to hold back the soft, desperate moan as Hob’s hands glide up his inner thighs.

Calliope reaches her hand around and, with practiced ease, grips a fistful of Hob’s hair in her hand, dragging his face firmly against Dream’s groin.

“I think we’ve teased him enough, my love.”

Dream sucks in a breath as he feels Hob’s moan against his skin. It occurs to him now, as he takes in the pleasure on Hob’s face as he’s manhandled, that Calliope probably treated Dream the same way simply out of habit. Her hands moved with confidence and familiarity, Hob’s eyes fluttering with arousal. He feels a sharp stab of guilt for daring to have different preferences than them, for not hiding it well enough, for disrupting their routine.

But whatever half-formed apology was on his lips dies when Hob parts his lips and Calliope guides him to take Dream’s cock. He has to bite his lip to muffle his cries, and his body trembles with effort to not thrust up into the warm, wet cavern of Hob’s mouth.

“I’m surprised he managed to hold himself back so long,” Calliope whispers against Dream’s ear, stroking Hob’s cheek reverently, her fingers tracing his lips where they’re stretched around Dream’s length, “A large part of why we opened our relationship was because he loves sucking cock so much. My strap-on just couldn’t quite satisfy him.”

Dream shudders at the words, whining when Hob hums, glancing up with bright eyes, looking like he would be laughing in agreement if his mouth wasn’t full. Calliope tugs at his hair, and Dream keens at the feeling of Hob’s tongue dragging across his prick as Calliope pulls him off.

Hob grins, licking his lips, “Didn’t want to scare you off,” he admits to Dream, “Didn’t want to push when I wasn’t sure why you wouldn’t let me reciprocate.” His hands move to Dream’s arse, squeezing gently before tugging him forward, sliding him down the bed just slightly until his head is pillowed against Calliope’s breasts and Hob can bury his nose in the crease of Dream’s thigh.

“Nothing to be afraid of now, darling,” Hob says, smiling, “So let go for us.”

He opens his mouth, and does not have to wait long before Calliope has his hair in her grip again, moving him to swallow Dream back down as she sets a gentle pace for them. Dream shudders and moans, his breath hitching when he feels himself barely brush the back of Hob’s throat. He tries to pull away slightly, but as he does Hob looks up at him, and Dream just knows he would be grinning if he could. He hooks his arms under Dream’s knees until his legs are over his shoulders, and ignores Calliope’s guiding hand in favor of pulling Dream close until his nose is pressing against his pelvis and Dream can feel him swallowing around him.

The cry Dream lets out is more like a muffled scream, his whole body going taut as he throws his head back against Calliope’s chest. When she laughs, it is not mean, or mocking. She just sounds happy.

“Someday,” she promises, “I will show you how to really fuck his face exactly how he likes.” Dream shudders at the words, and Calliope allows Hob another moment to choke on Dream’s prick before pulling him off. Hob sucks in a gasping breath, drool running down his chin, smiling and laughing even as Calliope turns her attention to him to chide him fondly, “But for now, we must be gentle with him, my love.” She wipes at the saliva on Hob’s face as she leans to kiss Dream’s cheek, “We have been too careless already.”

Whatever part of Dream’s brain that is still working wants to argue, but before he gets a chance, Hob is placing a kiss at the base of his cock, looking up at him warmly, “No argument here,” and then he is licking up the shaft and returns to the easy pace from before, and all Dream can do is whimper.

Heat curls in the bottom of his stomach as he watches Hob’s head bob steadily. He is so caught up in the sensation, in Hob’s tongue swirling over the head of his dick, and Hob’s hands massaging his arse, and Calliope still idly stroking his nipples, that it takes him a moment to notice that his voice is not the only sound echoing through the room. Blinking dazedly, he realizes that Hob is moaning around him, and his hips are rutting desperately against the mattress, a dark spot spreading on the sheets where his precome is leaking. Behind him, Calliope’s breath is panting by his ear, and he feels the knuckles of her free hand brushing against his lower back rhythmically as she fingers herself.

Hob’s face is flushed, his tempo faltering as he climbs towards his peak, until Calliope has to grip his hair again to keep him steady. As she does, Dream can hear the slick, wet sounds behind him as her hips start canting to fuck herself on her own fingers. Her movements jostle Dream, each thrust of her hips pushing Dream’s into a mirroring thrust into Hob’s mouth. Dream isn’t even doing anything, is simply laying at their mercy and writhing at every pleasure they wring from him, and yet somehow, impossibly, he is surrounded by the evidence of their pleasure as well.

Whining desperately, Dream moves one hand to grip at Calliope’s thigh, the other covering her’s over Hob’s hair, pushing back weakly, “I-... I’m going to-....” he tries to warn.

Calliope only grinds against him harder, her voice breathless as she keeps her hand on Hob’s head, “Go ahead,” she pants, “Let go, let him taste you, let us see you lose yourself with us.”

Hob hums in eager agreement and just like that Dream is coming hard. His fingers tighten on Calliope’s thigh and Hob’s hair, pressing them close as he throws his head back and keens, long and loud. Hob takes him as deep as he can go to swallow around every drop, and just as Dream is starting to come down, Hob lets out a strangled cry and Dream nearly shrieks in overstimulation. Calliope pulls Hob off and Dream realizes that he is coming too, his red, red lips hanging open and drool dripping from his chin as he moans, long stripes of come streaking between his legs. Finally, Calliope buries her face in Dream’s neck, her hand speeding up until Dream feels a puddle of wetness bloom on the mattress where their hips are pressed together.

For a long moment, all three of them simply lay together, panting and boneless. Hob has collapsed forward, uncaring of laying in his own mess, resting his head on Dream’s stomach. Dream feels like a ragdoll, limbs loose and limp as he leans back heavily on Calliope. She in turn is curled forward, forehead pressed against Dream’s shoulder, her hips occasionally twitching with little aftershocks of her orgasm.

Eventually, Calliope shifts, humming in contentment as she stretches an arm out to tug on a strand of Hob’s hair. When she has his attention, she crooks a finger still shiny with her own fluids at him, beckoning him to her. He smiles, and slides up Dream’s body languidly until they are chest to chest and Calliope can draw him into a deep kiss just over Dream’s shoulder. He watches with half-lidded eyes as Calliope licks into Hob’s mouth, and he can feel the way her chest rumbles with a noise of satisfaction.

“Oh, Dream,” she purrs, and Dream blinks in surprise at being addressed as she runs her tongue across Hob’s lips, “you taste divine.”

Dream thinks his face might be on fire, and even as he ducks his head to hide his face in Hob’s chest, he is certain Hob must feel the heat on his skin. But Hob is nice enough not to say anything, petting Dream’s hair softly as Calliope allows him to lick her fingers clean.

Hob runs his tongue over her fingers thoroughly, moaning happily at the taste of both his lovers mingling in his mouth, “Truly, I’m being spoiled tonight,” Hob grinned, his voice rough and rasping in a way that only made Dream blush harder, “I thought this was supposed to be about Dream?”

Shyly, Dream raises his head from Hob’s chest. He knows that Hob is teasing, but he still feels the need to make sure they know, “I am… more than happy with the outcome of this evening,” he whispers.

“Hm, good,” Calliope tilts his head, kissing him softly, nearly chaste, “Tonight was a good start, I think.”

Dream blinked in confusion, “A… start?”

“Of course,” Hob chimed in, placing a finger under Dream’s chin to tilt his face up, “We haven’t even taken you on a date yet.”

It only makes him more confused, even as his heart flutters with something hopeful, “But… you already have me?”

His fondness for romance was something that has long been beaten down in him. When he wanted to do something for his partner, he was too much, he embarrassed them, and it was still never enough to forgive him his flaws. When he wanted something from them, a sign or a gesture or even just time together to make him feel wanted, he was high maintenance, spoiled, unreasonable.

“We’re already dating,” they’d say with rolled eyes, “That shit is for when you’re trying to get someone,” they’d grin meanly, “You’re already got.”

Romance was for his books, not his life. And yet, Hob tilted his head in curiosity “And we would like to keep you,” and he says it so easily, as if he is not the first person to ever express such a thing to Dream. He must see it though, in Dream’s glassy eyes, because his expression softens, and he strokes Dream’s cheek lovingly, “We want to treat you right. Give you all the good things you deserve. And that includes dates, and gifts, and excessive wooing.”

“And it will be excessive,” Calliope warns, “Now that it is allowed, we will both be broken floodgates of affection. You must tell us if it is ever too much.”

Dream shakes his head immediately, “You could never be too much,” he chokes out, lowering his gaze, “You don’t… you don’t have to…”

He jumps when he hears a thud and two yelps, looking up to find Calliope and Hob both holding a hand to their foreheads, having collided in their mutual rush to kiss him.

“Excuse you,” Calliope glares, voice haughty and offended, “it is my turn!”

“It absolutely is not,” Hob pouts.

And whatever feelings were overwhelming Dream even a moment earlier evaporate as he claps a hand over his mouth to stifle his rasping giggles. He loves these two ridiculous people so much and he thinks- hesitantly, tentatively- that he might be allowed to.

This time, Calliope and Hob maneuver carefully around each other, each pressing kisses to Dream’s face and shoulders. When Dream’s laughter has died down and it feels safe to remove his hand from over his mouth, they carefully disentangle from one another.

“Come on, beautiful,” Hob says, and Dream flushes at the endearment, “Let’s get cleaned up. I’ll find some pajamas for you, then we’ll change the sheets and head to bed.”

Despite everything, Dream cannot help the words that bubble up in his chest. He just has to make sure, “I can stay?”

They look a little sad, but still don’t hesitate to both nod. “Of course,” Hob whispers, “We want you to stay.”

Calliope takes his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “And we will be here with you in the morning. And the day after that, and the day after that.”

“I’ll make you breakfast, because Calliope can’t cook. But she’ll make the coffee, because the machine hates me for some reason. And you can decide what we watch while we eat because neither of us can ever decide on a show and you always have good suggestions.” He turned to raise a teasing eyebrow at Calliope, “Am I wrong?”

To Dream’s relief and delight, Calliope only laughed, “It’s true, I have enjoyed all of his suggestions thus far. And left to our own devices, Hob and I will simply scroll for hours and not watch a single thing.”

Something in Dream’s heart blooms. He hadn’t even realized they’d been listening to him. Before, each time they’d finish, as they were getting dressed and making themselves presentable, Dream would recommend a show or a book or a movie. It was an easy script, something he could easily practice in his head beforehand and recite in the moment with ease. A little filler in the aftermath, a reassurance that Dream could talk like a normal person, a subtle implication that he thought of them outside of sex. Have you seen this show? Have you heard of this story? I think you’d like it.

But he hadn’t really thought they were listening.

Dream does his best to move with them as seamlessly as they do each other, but each time he fumbles and finds himself in their way, they merely take it as an opportunity to ply him with kisses. They wipe each other down with warm washcloths, letting their hands linger longer than strictly necessary simply because they can. Hob and Calliope replace the sheets swiftly while Dream changes into his borrowed pajamas. The oversized tee continuously slips off his shoulder, and when Calliope and Hob see him they immediately begin elbowing at each other in their haste to put their mouths on the exposed skin.

When they finally climb back into bed, they guide Dream into the center, slotting him between them as though he was made to be there. They pet his hair, and kiss him, and lace their fingers together over the dip of his waist. They fall asleep quickly, easily, as though Dream’s presence has not disrupted them at all. He stays awake as long as he can, savoring the feeling of their bodies surrounding him. He places his hand carefully on top of theirs, holding his breath. When they do not stir, he releases it slowly, allowing his eyes to finally drift shut.

Dream falls asleep, three hands tangled together, and thinks he might actually have a place here.

#the sandman #immortal throuple #dream the endless #hob gadling #calliope sandman #my writing #nsft #I have never written a smut scene this long it was a struggle lol #and with three people!! there are so many limbs to keep track of!!#I do want to write more for this universe someday though

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