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ssivinee · 1 year ago

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✧Magic Spell✧

BEBE! Bada Lee x Jam Republic! F Reader: Jam Republic was probably the most anticipated group of this season of street woman fighters. With the season going international, you find yourself being a part of the talented group. While battling, you catch someone else's attention, the famous Bada Lee.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning: The events aren't accurate to the actual show and were tweaked to fit the storyline.

Note: The reader is Korean, Tongan (Tonga), and Cuban. It's a little fast-paced.

Character Vision Board

All the groups were seated in their respective recording areas, and in front of them was a TV, where all the crews were about to be introduced.

When every crew watched, everyone felt the exciting atmosphere really come to life. The vibes heightened once more as Jam Republic was introduced.

Jam Republic decided to send a team that would represent other women worldwide. Choosing the members Kristen Dodgen, Ling Zhang, Latrice Kabamba, Y/n Ramos, Emma Huch, and Audrey Lane.

Everyone checked out the information of each member, but everyone couldn't help but stare at Y/n's long list of achievements. You began as an underground dancer and competed in several competitions, winning about 95% of them, before entering the world of choreography.

Through several YouTube videos, you became well-known for your b-girling, house dance, and bone-breaking specialty. When continuing down the list, it showed the several artists you've worked with. Big names like Usher, Beyonce, Normani, Bruno Mars, and Ne-yo were just a few of those names.

You were the third youngest on the team, yet your triumphs showed your thorough background in the dance scene. At 23, you were known worldwide for your work and skills, even being popular amongst the general public.

They began to show some of your videos, and some dancers couldn't help but be in awe of you.

So when the day finally came, and everyone had to film together, the crews went in anticipating the impressive performances they'd get to see.

You and the girls entered the building with a bright energy and all smiles. "This is so exciting," Audrey squeals, and you pinch her cheek due to her adorableness. You made your way up the stairs. Linked arms with the youngest, with a similar vibe in your outfit choices.

The group makes their way to the hot pink room and waits for their call. As you wait, you check your outfit, rotating your body often and posing.

"You look amazing. Stop worrying so much," Latrice says as she pats your hip. "Dude, I'm just so pumped right now," You tell them with much adrenaline pumping through your veins as you jump every so often.

"Is anyone excited to meet a dancer?" Emma asks, chilling comfortably on the couch. Audrey says, "Definitely wanna see Tsubakill."

"Bebe is fire, though," Kristen tells the girls, and you nod.

"They have a youthful energy you wanna bounce to," you state, fond of the team full of younger dancers. When you sat with the rest of your girls, watching through every team's choreography, Bebe was the one that caught your attention. The filming of their crew preview video, the outfits, and the high teen energy sparked something in you. They looked like they enjoyed the dance and had terrific chemistry, which made you happy. You almost couldn't stop grinning as you watched them.

Before you can even continue the conversation, all of you get startled by the loud bass of the TV, signaling them to enter the fight zone. They began to walk out, and as Kristen led them through the corridor, they stopped at the entrance and looked amazed at the setup.

Making it down the stairs, everyone's eyes were on Jam Republic, and you couldn't help but roam your eyes around. You didn't make it that far because you couldn't look away as soon as you locked eyes with Bada Lee.

You give her a kind grin, and she gladly returns one.

Walking past some of the crews, you heard many whispers.

"Wha~ Kristen is really here."

"Their vibes are totally unmatched."

"Jam being here is actually crazy."

Everyone's eyes then linger on you and Audrey. Your pretty faces shocked many of them. Bada can only look at the two in astonishment, "Audrey and Y/n are so pretty."

Other comments like you two looking like princesses or angels could be heard through each crew's murmurs. Yet none of the Jam Republic girls were fazed.

You then watched the video that provided unwanted comments as you stood at the center. Most of the words targeted Kristen, but they sure left you and Audrey with a bitter taste in your mouths.

"Audrey is a baby. She can just sit there, look pretty, and do nothing."

"Many people praise Y/n's skills, but I believe most people watch her just to see her pretty face."

"I wanna say I'm proud that Y/n is famous as she's half Korean, but I feel we've been let down by her. She's lost her touch after a while."

Your eyebrows raise at the comment, and you can't help but sneer.

"Lost your touch?" Ling questions as the same confusion lingers in the mind of your entire crew. You chuckle a bit as you begin to see the no-respect stickers.

Kristen had two, while you and Audrey were evenly split with five. Audrey, who stood beside you, raised her two thumbs in happiness, and you gave her a high five. You understood what she was feeling right now. You two had mandatory battles to show your abilities.

"I don't really get it. You're one of the greatest battlers out there, and they decide to comment those things?" Emma whispers to you, but you smile, "I guess I'm just gonna have to prove them otherwise."

As you stay seated, paying attention to the announced judges and host, Audrey nudges you slightly, 'We're gonna kill it out there."

"You're damn right we are."

As you listened, your eyes traveled to your left, and you saw Bada, who was paying close attention. The younger girls on her team seemingly notice and whisper to her, causing Bada to look back at you with seduction.

You weren't one to back down either, so you focused on her, inviting the flirtatious look as you unconsciously bit your lower lip, unaware of how sensual it looks on Bada's end. Bada looks at you up and down, pleased by your reaction with a sly grin on her face, and returns to paying attention to Kang Daniel as he speaks.

"And now, what the hell was that?" Emma asks you playfully, and the girls can't help but turn their attention to you. "What? She's hot," you shrug, and they can't help but just laugh at you.

"Wait, who?" Kirsten asks, a little confused, and Emma just says, "Bada."

"I can't blame you, though," Emma comments, and you giggle, knowing how much of an effect Bada seemingly has on many of the women in the studio.

"Well, if you are done silently flirting, please pay attention," Latrice gives you a joking glare as you give her a mini salute.

Before battles commenced, everyone was told to get changed and be ready in 10 minutes.

You tell the girls to head out because you need to reply to someone's message, but suddenly, you hear a knock on your door.

"Come in," You say and see Bada's face peaking through the door. She smiles at you, "Am I interrupting you?"

"Oh, of course not. Please, come in and sit." You pat the seat right next to you, slightly adjusting your hat as you do so. You two sit down, and Bada introduces herself properly, "I'm Bada Lee of Bebe. I'm actually a fan of yours."

"That's so sweet. Well, Miss Bada, I'm Y/n Ramos," You shook each other's hands, "So, biggest and trendiest choreographer right now, huh?"

"I can say the same thing about you."

"I'm not too sure about that. Everyone on my TikTok was dancing to Rover, while I haven't seen many do my dances," you joke.

"It's because your choreos are advanced. I work in a world where the dance has to be a trend, so it appeals to the Kpop audience."

"I've noticed that in Kpop too. It's admirable, you know? Being able to have so many fans dance something you made."

You two loved the conversation's comfort, even teasing each other about wearing hats, but the moment was cut short as the staff began calling everyone back onto the set.

"Let's continue later?" Bada asks, and you nod as you approach the fight zone together. Both of your respective groups were teasing you two as soon as you took a seat.

As they began rolling the cameras, we headed straight into battles.

Redy of 1Million was called up first, and as she picks, she walks around, teasing to pick someone from Deep N Dap, but makes a fast 180 turn and chooses Bada instead.

"Redy, do you have anything to say to Bada?"

"I just don't respect you," She tells the taller girl right to the point.

"Not Redy, Soobin-ah, you're still an 8th grader to me," you gasp at the roast, and a light chuckle comes out. Ling looks at you confused and asks what happened and when you tell her the exact translation she audibly gasps, "That's gotta burn man."

"After hearing that back story, I'd be pissed at Bada too," you say, making her laugh. Redy began first, and while you watched, you felt it was a bit messy and failed to captivate you.

When it was Bada's turn, you watched her intensely. She grooved and taunted the younger girl, making her dance entertaining. You found yourself making a face of surprise, not expecting Bada to be so confident in battle as she was known to be an avid choreographer.

Nearing the end, you two make quick eye contact, and with a smirk, Bada takes a paper in her mouth and blows it in Redy's face. "That made her ten times hotter," you groaned, amazed, and Emma chuckles after hearing your statement, smacking your leg due to you being silly again.

You sat there, watching some of your teammates go up several times before you, making you itch to dance.

Audrey was the first in your crew to be called, even being chosen by two dancers immediately. You were never worried about your youngest, though. She had one of the most unique styles of dance in your eyes. Every move she made, you cheered or had faces of disgust, enjoying every move of Audrey's freestyle.

Then, you were on an emotional roller coaster on Kirsten's several turns. During these moments, you came to see who, from each crew, would be a formidable opponent to your team.

Emma then went on stage, and it was the loudest you cheered. Due to the similar specialties you and Emma had, you unconsciously hype her dance up with the same amount of energy. Bada watches you, adoring the faces you make each time your team is up.

She noticed everything about you: the side tilts your head did when Monika showed two team cards instead of one, the little tap your feet made when you got nervous about the winner of specific battles, your large jumps when you got hyped over a move. She was expecting you to be one of the calmer ones on your team, but after some thinking, it was probably because you were on the younger side of your team.

Bada knew well that when younger dancers worked in a team with older ones, their inner child came out much more often. You clearly had close relations with each of your members, appreciating everything about them, even when they lost.

Soon, it was the turn of Deep N Dap's Minny Park to choose her no-respect dancer.

"I choose Jam Republic's Y/n," You jumped off your seat, feeling more energized than ever. "Minny-nim, why did you pick Y/n as a no-respect dancer?"

"She's rusty, and I'm gonna prove that."

Many people enjoyed the laugh, and you responded, "Don't worry, I oiled up for the show." People go crazy at your clapback, and as you give Kristen your mic, the music begins for Minny.

"Let's go Minny!"

"Show her how it's done!"

The encouragement of her team gave Minny an impressive start. She starts by posing to the song's beats and looks at you with eyes of determination.

You watched very closely, staying calm and composed. That was the version of you that Bada expected. Seeing your new sides made her want to know you even more.

Minny was good, you'll give her that. She had a sassiness to her that carried the energy of her moves. She even added provoking dance moves which had you nodding your head occasionally. However, no matter how much credit you give her, you would provide her with a fight, and it would be a beat down.

"3! 2! 1! Switch!"

The music began to change, and you heard "Beggin'" by Madcon, which excited you. You said, "Perfect," telling yourself that you'd win with this song, no problem.

"Oh, she's gonna eat this song up," Latrice tells the crew, having pure faith in her best friend.

"Come on, Y/n!"

"Show them how battling is done, girl."

You start with grooving in the beginning, and as soon as you hear the first, 'I'm beggin' ~,' you give a pout as you kneel with praying arms to Minny. As the beat builds up, you smirk and hit a one-armed handstand freeze, then remove your arm quickly to do a small headspin.

You tutted, with some bone-breaking, and led into getting more in Minny's personal space. You see Bada's from your peripheral, whose jaw literally means dropped. You smirk and decide to give her more of a show.

Your hips rotated, and you swayed your ass to show more variety. As you drop to the floor dramatically on your knees, you grind your hips forward before going into a 1990 to Windmill. As the music subdues, you just end with a slight spin.

Everyone was already wild as it was, but they all gave you a standing ovation. Your face goes into a pout as it warms your heart.

"Judges, please reveal your votes," Kang Daniel signals, and you sigh in relief to see the 3 pink cards. Your team jumps and cheers excitedly for you as you bow at the 3 judges.

All the judges still stare at you in shock, and only Monika finds the words.

"I'm here to be as truthful as possible, and I can proudly say with my chest that battle was the most entertaining thing I've seen in a while. Minny, you are terrific, and if you picked anyone else in this room, you had a higher chance of winning. But Y/n is just on another planet."

Monika gets a bit passionate and decides to stand up, "As professional dancers, we know how difficult freestyling is. It's a completely different mind game than choreographing. Y/n tutted, b-boyed, did bone-breaking AND theatrics? If I could give you an award right now, I would." You bowed with your hand over your heart at the high praise and returned to your team.

Before returning, your eyes meet Bada's, whose face is still the same. You find it amusing, letting out a laugh with a wink, causing Bada to get all flustered.

After a few more battles, you were all given a 30-minute break, so after a bathroom break, you took advantage of the time and went to the lobby of the building, taking in the silence as you rested on the blue velvet chair.

You sip on your ice-cold water and observe your surroundings until you see the tall woman coming down the stairs, giving her a small wave.

"What're you doing down here?" She questions, taking a seat in the velvet chair right beside you. "I needed to get away from the noisiness. Besides, it's nice and cold down here."

"I can agree with that."

"I honestly need to know how you move like that when you dance."

You giggle at the older's comment, "A lot of training and stamina. I wasn't even that flexible back in the day. I stretched daily to get my body to where it's at now."

She only nods, appreciating the fact you shared your efforts with her to become a better dancer.

You two let the silence engulf you until Bada decides to get daring. "You were so hot out there."

Your eyebrow raises, and you smirk. "I'm hot? I could say the same about you, Miss Bada. Whenever I make eye contact with you, I can never look away until you do. It's like you've cast a spell on me," You lean closer to Bada.

She does the same, her eyes traveling to your lips and eyes, "Me? Spell? Maybe you did that to me?" Bada leans in closer, the tension between the two of you rising quickly, and now the two of you feel your breaths hitting your lips. "I don't think you understand what you do to me. You have my hands clammy, face heated, heart racing? I wanna know how you're doing this to me."

Staring at each other, you had an idea and gave Bada a little peck before running away into one of the empty rooms, giggling as you heard Bada gasp and chase after you.

As you got into the room, you tried to shut the door, but Bada beat you to it and was able to stick her foot in, causing the door to open. She comes in and closes the door softly behind her, and smirks, walking over to you.

"You're actually gonna be the death of me," Bada tells you, hooking her fingers around the waistband of your pants and pulling you into her. Leaning down, she pulls you into another much longer and loving kiss. Pulling away, her forehead still stays connected to yours.

"How about I take you out later tonight, Miss Ramos?"

You kiss her on the cheek with a cute smile, "I'd love that, Miss Lee."

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #bada lee x fem reader #bebe x reader #bebe #swf2 x reader #swf2 #street woman fighter 2 #street woman fighter x reader #gxg #wlw #jam republic #ssivinee

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delirious-donna · 9 months ago

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A Spider's Web [Geto Suguru]

an: an entire rework of a story written way back in '22. I've changed a few things and tightened it up a little more. Sometimes I can't tell if I'm into Suguru or not... he is very compelling.

pairing: Geto Suguru x female reader

warnings: dark content, kinda yandere Suguru, corruption, abuse of power, doctor/patient relationship, obsessive behaviour, manipulation, handjob, messy first blowjob, pussy fingering, pussy eating, unprotected sex, cumshot, cum eating

Masterlist

Depraved, vile and manipulative–all accurate. Suguru should feel some semblance of shame, or at the very least guilt, but not even an ounce of it existed in the twisted labyrinth of his mind.

He was well aware of the superiority complex that plagued him, which was why he had found himself in the medical field and was the reason his private practice was considered the top in his specialty. Geto Suguru was considered the best psychiatrist in the city, perhaps even one of the top in the country.

From his position of power, Dr Geto should be helping you overcome your issues in a healthy, sustainable manner as he did for his other clients, but instead, he was trying to use your insecurities to crawl inside your pants.

Depraved.

A thick finger dragged across the loose-leaf papers that made up your file, eyeing the snapshot of your shy face that was clipped to your introductory questionnaire. He smiled at how you made reluctant eye contact with the camera, a camera his secretary had held aloft in the sanctity of the waiting room whilst he watched from the doorway to his office.

You were the perfect embodiment of a people pleaser, a diagnosis he had made within the first two minutes of meeting you. A meek flower that would only open like an exquisite rare bloom under certain conditions and Suguru was more than a little obsessed.

It was child’s play to identify the toxic trait in himself, the dark urge within his psyche that drove him forward and overrode the sane part of his brain that warned him to stop. To stop before he took it too far, stop before he did something he might regret.

It was too late for that.

The second he had checked out your social media pages, he had edged his toe over the line of professional decency; after that, he had tumbled headfirst down the rabbit hole and there would be no saving him.

He knew all the people you called friends, and the family members that you worked so hard to keep in touch with despite how sick it made you feel when that enthusiasm wasn’t reciprocated. More so, he took note of the men who were desperately trying to pursue you even though your complete naivety towards them and their attempts kept them at bay.

Of course, you spoke about many of them in your weekly sessions, but you didn’t know that he had clicked on every profile available to him. Admired the photos and saved his favourites on his personal computer. Dr Geto had an entire file on you that had nothing to do with your patient file…

Fisting his cock he pumped in steady but quick pulls, tugging himself closer to the brink of ecstasy whilst he imagined you kneeling beneath his desk. Batting those innocent doe eyes as if you didn’t know how fucking pretty you were. Wearing those perfectly decent, ‘I’m a good girl’ skirts and always ensuring you tucked the material tight against your thighs when you sat on his plush couch.

Would your skin burn with heat when your lips wrapped around his swollen tip? Would you grimace at the salty taste of his arousal on your tongue?

Vile.

Suguru’s head rolled against the head support of his chair at the thought. The idea that he might convince you to relieve the sinful ache in his heavy balls was a heady one. The product of weeks of planting the seedling and watering it with more and more inappropriate chat and suggestions.

There were only minutes until your session was scheduled to begin, it was a race against the clock. A sprint finish to release the demons burning their hellfire in his soul and to ensure that he remained merciful for at least another week.

It had become a game to him, this little charade of fucking into his fist mere minutes before you arrived to quell his desire to see you broken by his will. He could do it, it would be nothing to him and that was why he had to deter those whims. He pictured the filthy acts he would coerce you into doing with the faintest shift in his tone and that was enough–for now–it had to be enough.

Suguru rocked backwards, a slight squeak from his desk chair and his hips drove up to meet his hand. His palm twisted atop his weeping cockhead, and his sensitive skin twitched from the sensation. He was so close. He bit down on his lip until there was a tang of iron on his tongue, all whilst an image of your tear-filled eyes flitted across his mind's eye.

The intercom on his desk blared to life and midnight eyes snapped open in an angry startle. The breathy voice of his sickly sweet and simpering receptionist announced your arrival and he cursed beneath his breath. Fuck!

Ire exploded through his body, filling him with potent venom as he tucked himself back into his pants and fixed himself to hide the painful erection. Growling the instruction to send you in, he cleaned his hands and threw the used tissue into the trash. He knew that events would not unfold well for you today, this extra session that you had implored him was absolutely necessary earlier in the week was about to turn into something altogether wicked and it was your fault…

Manipulative.

You couldn’t deny how a sense of calm descended upon you the very moment you stepped into the softly lit office. The smile of the receptionist was genuine, the abundance of plant life in the waiting area and the low melody of music settled your nerves just as you had hoped.

Dr Geto was a genius, a prophet, a God.

His every word, you hung upon with a fascination worthy of a disciple. You had a crush on your psychiatrist–no–that wasn’t right. This was no crush, it was a deep infatuation and there was no cure. The real problem was that you didn’t recognise that you were obsessed with the clever man and that made things all the more dangerous.

Sure, he was attractive.

A little older than you were but he maintained a youthful physique and there was not a single line or wrinkle on his sharp, angular face.

You had often wondered if his hair would feel as soft and silky as it looked, the vast length more often than not tucked up into a top knot and you itched to touch it one day–to run your fingers through it even.

Yet, what attracted you most was the brain behind the looks, the insights and the words of advice that always hit their mark. Dr Geto was a genius and you revered him as a God.

The problem was, that he knew it...

Why did you need this extra session? You stumbled to remember the hastily fumbled words from the telephone conversation earlier this week. Something about your manager, something clearly trivial if you had already forgotten but you were happy to see your handsome doctor so soon after your last visit.

There was a sense of something different in the air this dark stormy afternoon. Rain lashed the windows that lined his snug office, the vibrant orange leaves of fall dulled by a persistent gloom that fell over the skies like a heavy woollen blanket. Even the eyes that observed you when you entered his room seemed distant, unattached and cool.

It made you frown. Your lips tugged down in one fell swoop and a lead weight filled your stomach. You failed to notice that your frown had brought a hint of a smile to his lips, those sweeping lines curved into something sinister but you were too busy trying to figure out how to lift his mood to realise that you were already doing so.

The normal routine of your session began in earnest, recapping the last visit and going over the small tasks he had assigned as ‘homework’ along with the results and observations.

Speaking to Dr Geto was always nerve-wracking, you worried you’d say something wrong, that he’d think you dumb or inept but you stumbled on because he wanted you to. Everything that you did, every word or confession you spilt and every action you took outside of his office was a direct response to his wishes.

Sure, it was meant to be for your benefit but the euphoria that laced your blood when he offered a genuinely pleased smile was enough to make you feel drunk. The biggest rush of endorphins filled your head when you received that hit of pleasure from his happiness, but that was the problem. You should be finding pleasure in your happiness and not in others. Wasn’t that one of the reasons you had started therapy?

“Why are you here today?” He asked and the abruptness of the question knocked you sideways. Your fingers twisted into the pleats of your skirt, inadvertently raising the hem and gifting your dutiful doctor a rare glimpse of the tops of your thighs.

“I-I don’t really remember the reason, it seemed so crucial at the time but now that I’m here… I’m sorry. I’m wasting your time, aren’t I?”

It was a statement you made with alarming regularity, never believing yourself to be worthy of someone’s time and attention even when you were paying for it. You expected the normal reassurance that he was here for you, that you were his patient and he was in no way imposed by your requirements, but it didn’t come.

“Yes, it seems that way.” His cheek rested against his fist, a mean smile dancing on his lips despite the air of stiff indifference surrounding him and it sent you reeling.

Reeling to fix your mistake, to please him, to make it so that you weren’t wasting his time. Anxiety turned your blood icy, the slosh of it burning your veins and bringing tears to your eyes. This was your worst nightmare come true. You were a burden. A troublesome woman who couldn’t go two minutes without reassurance.

The wobble of your bottom lip and the way your fingers fidgeted quicker and quicker in your lap, it was enough to make him want to push you back against the sunshine-yellow couch you sat upon. To pull you down and straddle your chest just to watch your eyes turn wide when he pressed his aching cockhead against those plump, wobbly lips.

Schooling his features, Suguru sighed—deep and heavy—his eyes stared towards the ceiling whilst he did his best to ignore the pitiful display you were putting on. The wringing of your hands and your knees that bashed into one another as you squirmed like a worm caught on a hook. It was an apt metaphor, he certainly was baiting you, you simply didn’t know it.

“Funny isn’t it?”

“What is?” you squeaked in response, your voice high and needy.

A finger idly traced the open page of the notebook he always held on the arm of his chair. He waited until your gaze fell on his wandering digit. Snaring your attention with the slow methodical movement, as if he were tracing lines of text when in reality the page was naked.

“Hm… this persistent need to please others, the desire that you feel to ensure that everyone else is happy even at your own expense, and you don’t show me the same courtesy. Me your ever-dutiful doctor.”

“I-I don’t—” you managed to stammer, floundering in your thoughts. You silenced abruptly when the man you usually looked up to as a genius snapped his fingers.

“I am still talking and you are listening,” he stated coolly.

He paused for a second, testing to make sure you understood. “Not only are you encroaching on an afternoon that I had planned to keep free, but you are also five minutes early and I didn’t get to finish.”

Every synapse in your brain fired at full tilt, scrambling for context clues as to what he possibly could mean by ‘didn’t get to finish’. What on earth could that possibly mean?

Your heart sank into your toes. Your eyes swivelled the width of his office but nothing seemed out of place. The space was uncluttered as usual, only then did you notice the open manila folder on his desk, a photo that appeared oddly familiar barely visible from this angle.

“It’s your file, I was perusing the contents before I was so rudely interrupted,” Dr Geto explained, noticing your squinting eyes and the crane of your neck towards his desk. Somehow the word ‘perusing’ did not sound as innocent as it should and you squirmed further in your seat.

“Should I go?” you asked timidly, yet every part of you screamed to stay. You would be miserable if you were to leave here with things unresolved, with someone unhappy with you–how unthinkable!

The good doctor smirked behind his hand, eyes remaining cool and unreadable as he fixed them on your agitated posture. If he asked you to kneel on the floor and then roll over like an obedient puppy, you would do it without question. It was a euphoric feeling, the power he wielded over you, and his tongue swiped a path across his lower lip in anticipation. The heaviness in his balls urged him onward, but this was not something to be rushed, he would savour corrupting you wholly.

Ignoring your pathetic question, he posed his own. “Tell me, have you ever orgasmed from sex? Did you stop seeing that man we discussed previously?”

You slouched on the couch, fingers still nervously fidgeting and your brow lowered whilst you attempted to keep up with this erratic session. It was like nothing you had ever experienced, but you couldn’t help but bask in the knowledge that he remembered discussing your ex, even though it was his job to do so.

“Uh, well… no. Never with someone, but I don’t know what that has—”

His teeth clicked in annoyance, a warning shot in your direction, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. “I’ll be the one asking the questions, and I don’t believe you’ve answered one of them…”

“I'm not seeing him anymore,” you murmured into your chest.

That’s what he wanted to hear, the unfettered joy that burst in his chest at that knowledge only adds fuel to the fire raging in his mind. No one other than he should be allowed the divine right to your pleasure, that was his job and he wanted to praise you. To tell you what a good girl you were for listening to his advice. Advice that had been for your benefit, if you squinted, but was more a selfish desire of his own.

Suguru’s already straining cock thickened upon hearing the news, the expensive slacks digging against his sensitive shaft and he wanted badly to release some of his pent-up frustration and discomfort.

“Come here,” he demanded with the merest flick of his finger. His voice softened, a reward for your answers and for following his guidance. You were so very affected by speech and he adored that about you.

You were a foal walking for the very first time as you stood and took the three shaky steps it took to stand before his chair. Under the change in his tone, you bloomed, heat caressed your smooth skin and he let a low hum of appreciation puff through his lips.

Dressed in his usual black pants and black dress shirt, you tried not to admire his physique but it was an impossible feat. He was your psychiatrist, it was not okay to lust after a man who was a care provider as well as being likely a man with a loving partner at home–not that you had ever dared to ask.

Shocked was a pale comparison to how you felt when the man shrouded in the shadow of your body, slid his hands to the belt around his waist. He unbuckled it with deft fingers which you watched in riveted fascination whilst your nerves ratcheted up to a new level of anxiety.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Showing you my cock, little one. I know you’ve seen one before. That you’ve felt one between your legs. You told me that man made you touch him, didn’t he?”

The words were said so matter of factly, as if this were some standard practice and for a brief moment you wondered if it was and that you were the one being weird for freaking out. How twisted around his pinky finger you were…

He sighed when the cool air kissed his weeping cockhead, the relief of freeing himself from the pressure of his clothes was intense and he gave one lazy pump of his length whilst he waited for your reaction.

Your eyes were as big and round as dinner plates, transfixed by his cock and that only stroked his ego further. The angry purple tip looked almost painful, veins thick and stark on his tawny skin and the weight of him pulled his dick down to smack against his thigh.

“Dr Geto…”

“Suguru. Right here and now, I’d like for you to call me Suguru. Do you understand?”

Blinking rapidly, your gaze rose from the sight of what could only be described as a fearsome-looking cock, and met eyes of potent liquorice. You tested the name in your head, Suguru, it sounded so fitting and at long last, you knew his given name and had been given–no–commanded to use it.

“Su-Suguru.” Despite the stammer, it sounded like perfection to his ear. He couldn’t wait to hear it from your sweet lips when he made you cry it out in ecstasy. He’d purr like a contented cat, and he would but later.

“Good girl,” he soothed. His free hand coiled around your wrist, tugging it away from the pleats of your skirt but his motions were gentle, testing.

“Did you fist his cock like this? Did you feel how hot and heavy the skin down here is? How the veins pulse as a man nears his peak?”

Your head shook, once then again.

In truth, you had been afraid that your then-boyfriend would be mad at you. Only giving the most cursory of touches to his far less impressive dick before he had taken over and you had simply watched. It had been fascinating at the time, and yet you hadn’t felt the inclination to join in. It was the same during intercourse, you were a participant but never felt actively there. There was no lack of consent to speak of, but a piece of you had remained locked behind an iron gate, unable to enjoy the act and only faking the noises you had heard from lacklustre porn.

Suguru pointed to the spot on the floor between his thighs, spreading himself wider in the chair and rolling his hips forward. You were kneeling before you even realised you were complying with the silent order, every inch of you shivered in anticipation of what he was going to do next.

Thick midnight hair fell most beautifully, the top knot pulled free and his hair draped over his shoulders. Transfixed by the lopsided grin and the calculating eyes that held you fast, you hadn’t noticed that he was wrapping your fingers around his erection.

Heat, heavy and decadent seared your palm. You gasped at how velvety soft his skin felt under your touch, how prominent the veins were against your fingertips and how he twitched when you tightened your grip almost involuntarily.

Suguru fought against his desire to let his head drop back, for his neck to roll against the back of his chair at the simple act of you touching him like he had envisaged a million times prior. With his lower lip trapped by his teeth, he helped you find a slow rhythm. Giving you ample opportunity to explore him like he was some intriguing science experiment.

Dark laughter rumbled from his chest when you gasped at the sensation of the sticky silver strands that leaked from his slick-coated tip to your fingers. It was the first sign of you stopping, perhaps coming to your senses that this shouldn’t be happening and he couldn’t have that.

“You'll taste it, won't you?” he grunted with a pout on his lips, daring you to even consider disobeying his wish. He was a monster for acting like this, to make you think you were bad for not considering his happiness.

You did indeed grimace at the bitter taste, two fingers pressed down on your pretty pink tongue and sampled the arousal that continued to leak from him in pearled beads.

The longer you savoured his unique flavour, the more you grew accustomed to it. Certainly, it wasn’t some delicious taste but saliva pooled in your mouth, ropes of it connected your lips and fingers until they broke apart like spider webs under too much tension.

“You’ve no idea how damn attractive you are. I can barely stop myself from forcing those pretty lips open with my cock, to fuck that cute mouth until you’re gagging on it.”

Big doe eyes were his reward, your entire posture straightened as if you were lit up from his words, lewd though they may be. His hand stroked at the back of your head, brain running a mile a minute as he changed tack and fixed you with another slight pout.

“You’ll take care of me, won’t you, little one? My good girl is always so willing to make me happy. That’s it, baby. Just… like… that. Fuck.”

He guided your head down as he spoke, bending you to his will with effortless ease. Your mouth parted much like he knew your thighs would do soon enough and he groaned in delight the very second his aching tip grazed against a tentative silken tongue.

As much as he might want to see you ruined, mascara tracks down your cheeks mingled with fat tears, that would have to wait for another time. If he pushed too much you’d run and where would the fun be in that? He wished to corrupt you, sure, but he wasn’t prepared to downright force you if you were unwilling.

It appeared that Dr Geto had some semblance of morals after all, twisted though they might be.

You’d seen this act performed in porn and knew the mechanics of how it worked but it was quite different participating. Mere minutes into your first-ever blowjob and your jaw ached. Saliva escaped the sides of your mouth, and loud slurping noises made your skin heat up as your watery eyes strayed up.

His gaze was hooded, lips parted with pants of air passing through them every few seconds. When he locked eyes with you, he licked those devilish lips with a feline smile offered along with a soft groan.

“Oh, my darling girl, you’re a natural. Don’t fight it, relax. Let me feel your throat.” The praise was hissed through clenched teeth.

You fought down the instinct to reject the intrusion as it neared your throat, the muscles worked furiously and caused you to gag around him.

Shifting on your knees in discomfort, you blinked, letting the tears fall from your eyes. You gripped the base of his cock, squeezing roughly and heard him curse under his breath from the pressure. The nails from your free hand found purchase in the expensive material covering his thigh and bunched it in your frantic grip.

“Fuck. Oh, sweet fucking Jesus. Sweetheart, stop. That is enough!”

Suguru was practically yelling as he ripped your mouth from his saliva-drenched cock, the wet disconnect of your concaved cheeks followed by your rasping breaths filled the silence that followed.

A mixture of your saliva and his precum dripped to his tightly drawn balls, a wet stain spreading on the chair beneath him and his cheeks flushed in reaction.

It took a moment to find composure. Idly he stroked your hair to ensure you knew he wasn’t mad or displeased by your efforts, far from it. His palm traced your cheek, wiping away the remaining tears with his thumb. Gentle and reassuring, as if he weren’t breaking every code of ethics going.

“I think this is the first session where I have said more than you, my dear. I’d like the chance to make you feel good, will you let me do that? It would make me so very happy...”

Subconsciously your face had come to rest against the side of his knee, enjoying the soft petting and whispered words of praise more than you thought you ever would. Your dark God wanted to make you feel good, who were you to deny him that want? You were his disciple after all.

“I don’t feel worthy…”

He snorted. “Nonsense. I’ve wanted to take you to hell before gifting you heaven since the very first moment you walked into my office.”

What an honour, to have been regarded so highly by the genius that was Dr Geto, it spoke to that part of your psyche that you were meant to be working on. It filled you with warmth, that deep-seated desire to feel wanted and needed. This was far from healthy, anyone would see that but you didn't have the luxury of that insight.

“I’d like that… Suguru.”

The smile he flashed at you was like staring at the devil himself. Shame, it was tinted by your reverence.

You could only watch as he slowly undressed, standing for a moment to step out of his pants and underwear before kneeling in front of you. His face was so close, reaching out for you and admiring your features with a reverential eye. His thumb stroked your jawline, ending with it dragging your lower lip down and you dared to nip at the rough textured pad.

Inching closer, warm breath that smelled faintly spicy and laced with traces of tobacco fanned your cheek and you couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye. There was a tsk of admonishment followed by a gasp, your head tilted back with a sharp yank on your hair and you met the blazing stare of the man before you. Emotions were swirling in those polished obsidian irises that you couldn’t begin to fathom, the serpents of his wicked intent but to you, they were pretty star-filled skies.

His mouth hovered above yours, waiting, ever the patient man and giving you this one final chance to push away. To come to your fucking senses and run for the hills. You should. You really should get out before it was too late. There was time… if you kissed him now, it was game over.

Yes, you held his cock in your fist and had taken him into your mouth but if you kissed him your fate would be sealed. Suguru conveyed this without saying a single word, he radiated his warning and demanded that you heed it.

You were the metaphorical shiny red apple, so perfect looking yet you were slowly rotting on the inside. The worm had found its way inside and was slowly eroding your purity, replacing it with sinful intentions and indecent thoughts. Who would have thought your handsome and prolific psychiatrist would be capable of such wickedness?

Time suspended when your lips met at long last, all soft touches at first, but quickly they turned heated and carnal. Suguru let you lead for a time, responding to the dance of your mouth but finally, he swept you into his arms on a whimpered sigh from your throat.

His strong arms pulled you closer, palms flush against your back and you could feel his slicked-up cock press snugly against your stomach. You only parted long enough for him to help you remove the sweater that covered your pretty dress, the straps of which were shoved down your arms until you could feel the cold air on your skin.

Suguru chased the chill from your flesh, his touch ignited every part of you he touched and there was a deep part of you that longed to push your fingers into his hair. Never one to do something purely for selfish means, you were emboldened by the lust that washed through you, the knot of tension that tugged behind your navel and you dared to do it. Your fingers speared into the masses of his thick raven hair, nails scratching against his scalp and you were pushed to the floor as he groaned into your mouth from the unexpected sensation.

A palm spread your thighs apart and you squealed into his mouth at the first touch of his hand against your underwear. Your cotton panties were drenched and you were beyond mortified. His tongue flicked lazily against the front of your teeth before retreating.

“Is this all for me? I’m honoured.” Suguru traced the edge of your panties, hooking his thumbs behind the flimsy elastic band and tugging them down in swift movements. He knelt between your spread thighs and heat burst along your skin.

You covered your face with your palms, biting down on your fingers as the dark-haired male teased a sole finger along your slit. No one had touched you here like this other than yourself, you hadn’t allowed it. Plenty had wanted to, but something always held you back, it never felt right. This shouldn’t feel right, yet it did.

Strands of sticky arousal caked his finger in an instant, your hips rolled against the plush carpet and you watched through your fingers as he sucked that sticky finger entirely clean. It shouldn't make your insides squirm like a pit of writhing vipers, should it?

“Knew you’d taste sweeter than cream, you're gonna let me taste you properly, yeah?” he asked with a rasp, already lowering himself so his face peaked up from below the bunched skirt of your dress.

A quick nod and your back arched so high that you thought your spine might break clean in two. The fat stripe he licked along your folds curled your toes and your hands flew to his hair once more. Dark irises studied your expression, watched for every telltale sign of what you liked and stored it away for future use.

Your skin tasted more delicious than anything he had ever sampled, his nose nestled against the short curls at your mound and pressed against your bundle of nerves. He alternated between short sharp strokes of his tongue and long languid licks from below your clenching entrance right to your throbbing clit.

Suguru eased his fingers into your tight pussy, braced on one forearm that hooked around the outside of your hip. He held you down as best he could whilst you bucked and writhed as new sensations assaulted you from every direction.

You whined at the stretch from his digits but he refused to relent, knowing how much more the burn of his cock would feel without this much-needed prepping. How you managed to engage in sex without these pleasures was a mystery to him. No wonder you never enjoyed the experience.

He refused to acknowledge the warnings in the back of his mind, the way that he was becoming addicted to your scent and taste. He ignored how fucking amazing you made him feel every time you tugged on his hair or called his name out when you experienced something new. You were so responsive to his every touch, you were made for him and he would make you his before the day was out.

“Don’t hold back, darling, cum for me. You can do it, just let go.”

Suguru quickened the thrust of his fingers, curling them further to press down against the spot that was swelling from his expert attention. The very second his lips attached to your clit, you exploded like the most magnificent firework.

Never had he heard such colourful language from you before, the cacophony of curses mingled with his name and the offerings to a God he did not believe in. His fingers were practically thrown from your pussy, the walls clenching down so tightly and the slippery release enough to make his eyes momentarily widen before he could compose himself.

What a sight.

His innocent patient lying spread out on the floor of his office, hair fanning your head like an angel’s halo and your breasts close to spilling over the soft cups of your bra. Translucent arousal covered your thighs, the skin shiny and he had half a mind to simply lick you clean, but there were more pressing matters to attend to first.

It was evident you were still riding your orgasm, lip tightly tucked between your teeth and each gentle touch of his hands made you whimper and jerk. Suguru kissed a path up your torso, leaving sticky patches of your essence on your collarbone and neck as he lowered himself atop you.

His cock slid with ease along your messy folds, toying with you for only long enough to steal more kisses and interlock your fingers beside your head. This was the moment he had waited for, had hoped would come and after nearly a year, you were going to be his.

“Will you let me fuck your cute pussy, sweetheart?” he asked and almost immediately balked at himself. Why the fuck was he giving you an out, now? He should be splitting you open like he needed to, not asking for your fucking permission.

Suguru breathed a sigh of relief as you nodded shyly, gazing at him softly from below your lashes. You had just cum all over his face and fingers and yet you still looked like the most timid little flower—perfection.

Without a second's hesitation, he pressed forward, the pressure against his thick tip enough to make him grunt like an animal. He rocked himself back and forth, opening you further with each new thrust of his hips. You whimpered, whined and pressed your face into the crook of his neck with every stretch of your tight cunt.

How it burned, the sensation of being split apart was enough to bring fresh tears to your eyes and oh fuck, did you want to yell at him to stop. To stop moving, to pull out and let your thighs come together. The fear of his response stopped you, the familiar tingle of wanting to please filled your chest and your brain and all you could do was breathe through it.

It was different before. They were never as big or domineering as the cock currently carving you open. Suguru was moulding you to his length, demanding that you fit him like a silk glove.

You only half heard the whispered words of praise that he lavished upon you, every further inch that he bullied into your tight cunt resulted in more and more messy, open-mouthed kisses. You thought you might die or at least pass out. Stifling a sniffle, you tightened the fingers that laced with his own.

Suddenly, it stopped.

The agonising pain of accepting Suguru into your body ceased, a warm feeling flooded your abdomen and you blinked up into a face twisted in pleasure.

“You’re so tight, I might not last…”

His voice was hoarse, strangled with the tendons on his neck on prominent display. Your hips pressed together, his cock so deep in your body that you were truly worried that he could rearrange your guts. When he pulled back, you moaned and it sounded like the most filthy noise you had ever made in your life.

Suguru gasped in reaction, obsidian eyes boring into your skull as his pace picked up. You could feel every part of him, your walls hugging and contoured to accommodate him to sheer perfection.

You were made to take this man, this darkly handsome man who manipulated you into this situation and used your weaknesses to his advantage. He was no God, he was the Devil and you had sold your soul to him. Signed your name in blood and there wasn’t a hint of regret in your mind.

The longer he stroked his cock into your pussy the bolder you became, you were the one to kiss him and suck on his swollen lips. Your tongue twisted around his and licked against his teeth. You arched your back, lifting your hips and shifting the angle of his cock to press just right on that special spot he had found earlier. You groaned in his ear and whispered for him to go faster, harder.

All he could do was everything that you asked of him. He had fallen hook, line and sinker for you. How things had twisted up in the jumble of lust.

For a second, Suguru frowned as a fleeting thought crossed his mind. Had you wanted this all along? Had you played him more than he had played you? It was gone in an instant as your head tipped back and you chanted his name in blind reverence.

“Suguru. Suguru! Oh fuck, Suguru!”

Once again, he felt your precipice and quickened to send you careening over the edge. Your thighs tightened around his lean hips, the pressure in his balls close to exploding when your walls milked him.

You fell first, but you were bringing him with you this time. Clinging to him like he was the only anchor in a stormy sea, the knots within your stomach released all at once, and then you felt the white-hot heat of thick ropes of cum splashing against your thighs. When he had pulled out, you didn’t know. All you did know was that there was a faint tremor of disappointment that he had running through your mind.

For the longest time, you simply stared at one another, both coming down from your respective highs and not daring to look away.

The smile you gifted him was new. It made his head tilt whilst he observed you from above. After a long moment, he returned the smile and let his head sink against your heaving chest.

Who had corrupted who? Did it really matter when you both got exactly what you wanted?

#delirious writes #suguru x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #suguru smut #geto smut #tw yandere #tw corruption

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literary-motif · 2 months ago

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ENOUGH ANGST !!!! AAAGGHHH I HATE ANGST !!!! So after Isis confirmed the bound, Xanthus said that he will now sleep with love in order to keep them safe. After listener gets comfortable and finally falls asleep. Xanthus keeps staring at them, slowly releasing what Isis said and building a deeper connection to love. Just for Xanthus to hug them and rest with love PLSPLSPLS

My Design

Xanthus Claiborne x Reader

There was something very intimate about sleeping together — literally sleeping together. Xanthus was enthralled with the soft rise and fall of your chest, calming him so thoroughly that he feared it might lull him into the land of sweet oblivion himself. Your eyelids were gently closed, hiding the beautiful eyes he had lost himself in quite a few times since meeting you in that alley.

He could not believe you had agreed to spend the night. Certainly, his lavishly decorated house — nay, mansion — might have something to do with it. It looked rather nice, he supposed. He was proud of the furniture, his collection of little specialties expanding over many centuries until it consisted of the composition of works he decorated his house with.

There was an original Böcklin in the study, and a letter his old friend Van Gogh had sent him safely tucked away in the cabinet, next to the volumes of now historical pictures a history student might sell their soul for.

His bed was very comfortable as well. Perhaps that was the reason that got you to stay, or maybe the thunderstorm raging in the night had made the prospect of walking home rather distasteful. Either way, you were here now, and he was glad for it.

Isis had been gone for two hours, and his mind was still reeling. The bond was as fascinating as it was utterly terrifying. He had spent centuries living alone, not daring to tie himself to another person because they would wither and fade before his eyes, and now he was entangled with someone who was definitely going to die!

‘Tis a fearful thing to love what death can touch. Yehuda Halevi was right, but instead of the holiness he described at the end of the poem, Xanthus would find insanity when your heart stopped beating.

How fearful, indeed.

What was this feeling of love he had? How long had he gone without it? Vaguely, he recalled an infatuation at the end of the 19th century — nothing he had ever felt compared to this.

There was a thread tying you both together, one he could not so easily break no matter how hard he might strain against it. Not that he wanted to, although he supposed part of him did.

Vulnerability never came easy, and now you were his weakness. A weakness.

You mumbled something in your sleep, and he could not help the fond smile that came across his face. You looked so comfortable with your head buried in the pillows, lying on your side. Unconsciously, you had curled around him, and Xanthus felt the sudden urge to gather you in his arms and make sure nothing mortal or otherwise would ever get the chance to hurt you.

Something in his chest shifted at seeing your peaceful expression — one that had been missing from his own face for decades. His chest felt warm, and he felt the burning need to protect that had evaded him since he had watched his nephews being lowered into the ground.

This is love, he realized suddenly, burning, aching, maddening love. What had he become?

What had the bond done to him?

“Xan?” you mumbled, still asleep. His heart could not take it.

“I’m here, love,” he whispered, carefully wrapping his arms around you to pull you against his chest. Your head lay on his chest, and you let out a content sigh, appreciating his affection even from beyond the veil of sleep. “Sleep, I’m here.”

You did not reply, your gentle breathing filling the air again. Distantly, he heard a crack of thunder, lighting striking across the sky in a sudden flash of unloading tension.

Xanthus closed his eyes, listening to your heart instead, hearing it pump the blood through your body. He hoped it would keep beating for a long, long time to come.

He would make sure of it anyway.

#sakuverse #zsakuva #xanthus x reader #xanthus claiborne #zsakuva xanthus #I give you fluff begrudgingly

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mayakern · 6 months ago

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hello! I have watched your videos and I am sorry the preorder is going so poorly. You all have poured so much time and care and thought into these, and if anything I think you're doing *too much* in the way of trying to accommodate customer requests when it comes to color/pattern specifically. for all that you are so open with your back-end processes, you guys are always going to be able to see the big picture better than anyone. Also, you have way more at stake in your design decisions than your customers do.

all this to say - don't make your pattern decisions based on polls! Use demographic data, sales data, seasonality, info about what colors (and complementary items) are currently popular in other stores - polls might have a place in there, but they're not super trustworthy and they can't bear all of the weight, because ultimately you know more than we do.

I also want to tell you that I'm so appreciative of the lengths you're going to to provide us with lovely, sustainable fashion for all sizes and texture tolerances, and I hope this doesn't discourage you for long!

i appreciate your thoughtfulness.

previous to this experience, polling our customers has been very effective. it just sucks that wasn’t the case this time because this was the time where we really needed to make sure we had a hit because the shirt and dress are SO expensive for us to make.

in the past we have just kind of done our own thing and said screw it. most of our customers aren’t super concerned with being on the cutting edge of trends, which is good, because that would be an impossible standard for us to follow when production cycles take minimum 2 months AFTER product development is complete and trend cycles seem to change every other week with the advent of shein and other fast fashion sites being able to pump things out super fast and the life cycle of everything on tiktok being super short, in part due to the generational shift from subcultures to aesthetics.

we’ve been having a lot of internal conversations about this situation and what to do going forward. in large part i think what we’ve learned is that any more complicated pieces (like the shirts) we need to make with less expensive fabric. the cost of a garment isn’t just about how much fabric it takes, but how many lines of stitches are required and if any specialty processes or materials are used (sewing in buttons, adding zippers or gussets, etc). ultimately the shirts are expensive not just because of the high quality material, but also because they are a complicated garment made by people who are being fairly compensated for their labor. we can lower that price slightly in the future by changing the materials we use, but by and large this means we will be trying to focus on less complicated garments in the future.

#ask #store

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neverchecking · 1 year ago

Text

Day 8: Breeding- Calamity

KIBFFF i was so excited for this day bc breeding is lowkey my specialty (Its not lowkey. Very very highkey) but then i got bad burnout from my midterms and school and my field placement and gfogbg BUT ITS DONE <3

Smut so Minors Do Not Interact. If I find out a minor has interacted with my blog, I will block you.. Thank you!

Smut CW: Cal NO LONGER being a virgin >:) He is down ATROCIOUSLY bad. he just like me fr Anyway, it is gender neutral despite the theme.

This is Day eight of My Kinktober so be sure to come back and check out the other days! Friendly Reminder that all of my smut is tagged 'Cindersins' including this, but this will also be tagged as 'Cinder's happy halloween' along with the run of the mill smut tags.

Kinktober Masterlist <<< Day 7>>>Day 9

It had been a long time since he had first laid with you. Had first felt your hands on his skin and the delicious warmth you would envelop him in. But every time to him was a blessing. It was the gift of you letting him bathe in your divine glory.

You could use him anyway you saw fit and he’d thank the golden three for it everyday.

There were times, however, where you expressed you felt ashamed of the feeling of using him. Of riding him until he was nothing but a sobbing mess, clinging to you like a man void of any free will. Of holding him while he mindlessly rut against you, cock aching with overstimulation as you marked his back with your own show of love. Of running your fingers through his hair while he lapped and sucked at your sex, eagerly cleaning you of anything that might sully your precious skin.

Even before this you felt you were using him to fulfill your own desires, but how wrong you were. He couldn’t even begin to describe the pure euphoria that thrummed in his veins at your request. You had come up to him, with cheeks a soft cherry red, and asked him so nicely to keep an open mind. Little did you know, Cal would swallow hot coals if it meant pleasing you. Nonetheless he listened, holding your hand within his and feeling how soft they felt compared to his. Then you had softly asked for him to breed you. To pump you so full of his very essence the only thought you could comprehend being him. How he felt inside of you, how his own form shadowed over you, how he would pin you down and use you like his own personal toy. You wanted him to use you for once.

And oh, how delicious of an idea it was.

It was his absolute honor to lay you down, prepping you so carefully before pulling your hips to rest on his thighs, tapping his cock along your shiny hold before slowly slipping inside. Something about this time felt so different, he couldn’t explain it. Like some part of his hindbrain was just so laden with the need to please you and the primal urge to just give and take. To give you a kid of his own, regardless of whether you could or would carry or not. To just pump you so, so full, it would drip out in heavy bulbs of cum and your own fluids, leaving milky trails down your skin before he would scoop them up with two of his fingers if only to plunge them back into your fluttering hole, listening to your whimpers of overstimulation just to watch it all over again.

He’d commit it to memory.

And when all is said and done and you would grow cranky with the thought of more cum spilling out of you? He’d show his pure devotion to you, on his knees before you (His rightful place if he did say so himself) and use his tongue to sing his prayers to your ethereal being.

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andhumanslovedstories · 1 year ago

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I’m looking for a second career after working corporate. I’d like something away from a computer, workin with people, in demand, and more flexible. I do have some autistic traits though (one therapist floated it but never officially diagnosed). Do you think nursing would be a bad choice?

Here's a useless answer: it depends! I'll also give my usual caveat that nursing is a very broad field and a school nurse versus a dialysis nurse versus an ICU nurse versus a home health nurse vs a community health nurse are all going to have different experiences. You'll probably spend more time at a computer than you might like (documenting......), but if you get efficient at it, you can blast through it alright. Except when you can't.

And you will work with people! In any part of nursing, you'll be working with people, often in intimate and vulnerable ways. You meet a lot of cool people and get to be there for a lot of cool moments, cool and funny and profound moments. Working with people when they aren't at their best can be exhausting. Working with people when they aren't at their best and also you're understaffed and also someone is complaining of new onset chest pain at the same time someone else is calling to be cleaned up because they've been incontinent--it's really easy to exhaust yourself out of compassion. You have to care and actively engage with people's often tragic situations, but you also have to protect yourself from secondhand trauma. It's okay if this is not something you're comfortable or good with, but if so, you should probably think critically about whether nursing is for you.

And flexible--maybe??? Again, different jobs will have different perks. A lot of nurses work prn which means they have to pick up a certain number of shifts a month, but they aren't on the schedule normally. You just pick up as you want. Very flexible! But also a lot of these nurses are getting their healthcare elsewhere, usually a partner. Like any shift work, you can always swap shifts with a coworker if you can find one who'll do it. When I worked in home health, it was very hard to adjust my schedule because there wasn't necessarily another nurse that could fill in. And often units in the hospital will have various schedule stipulations--work every other weekend, work a certain amount of holidays, work night shift until you get the seniority to go to days or become a nocturnal little freak (me). I currently work in float pool, which makes it way easier to call out and adjust schedules because I'm not assigned anywhere specific until like ten minutes before the shift starts.

And with regards to the last bit, the autistic traits, I don't know exactly which ones you mean, but none of them are an inherent obstacle to being a nurse. We need neurodiversity in nursing. Some patients might find you cold or awkward or weird or whatever way you worry you might come across. Other patients will resonate with those exact same traits. No one's the perfect nurse for all people. Some people want to that extra care, some people want competent work and then to have space for themselves, some patients want to learn everything about their situation, some patients don't even want to know what pills they're taking. Think of yourself as a specialty nurse. An oncology nurse can take care of a variety of patients, but they're most well suited and situated to take care of cancer patients. There's a patient type that is a perfect fit for you. And the same way cardiac nurses deal with strokes, and orthopedic nurses deal with respiratory infections, you work competently outside your specialty because you have a good base for your practice, but you also know that you have specialties that you are uniquely equipped to handle. Specialties like cheerleading through physical therapy, calming down dementia patients, knowing the shit out of telemetry, making sure patients get a bed bath and clean sheets, using a machine to pump a patient's blood outside your body--whatever you most like, you're most good at, what gives you energy to work. I think mine are working well with "difficult" patients, managing pain, and stealing cranberry juice from the patient fridge. for me.

I'll say too if you're worried like a lack of empathy or easy understanding of other people will be an impediment to care--I'm not saying I'm autistic, but I don't think I'm particularly empathetic. I NEVER know what people are thinking or feeling. I struggle to tell when patients are like "talk to me more!" versus "I am being polite to you, but please leave." I have never once been comforting a crying person and thought, "I am NAILING this. I am making them feel better." But I don't think I'm a bad nurse. I reverse engineer empathy by finding a situation that I was in that's similar to the situation a patient is in, and I think about what I would have wanted and appreciated in that situation. I think about what evidence says is a good thing to do in this situation. I think about what experience tells me has worked in this situation in the pas. I also just ask patients what they're feeling and what they want and why they do what they do instead of assuming I know. (That last one is so choice, we should all do it more.)

The job puts you in a lot of Situations that are hard for anyone to manage. So you can study up for a lot of Situations. I read conflict resolution books and writing by sick people, I think about how adherent I am to my own treatment plan when I get judgy, I ask patients a lot of questions in part so I can understand them but also so I can understand the next patient like them, I practice difficult conversations I can predict before I go into rooms, and I make sure I have certain phrases and reactions in my back pocket in case I'm caught by surprise. I've figured out my safe topics of conversations that I can chat about with patients that are personable but not intimate (cats, how long you've been in the area, how hard it is to sleep in the hospital at night). I periodically try out new conversation styles and topics to see how those work. I find people I admire and I try consciously to emulate them.

I make a shitload of rules too that help me structure my behavior so I can act like a person I'm proud of. If I can't get something for a patient, I have to go back and tell them that instead of just never returning to the room. Whenever I leave a room, before I go, I make sure the call light is within reach and I ask if there's anything I can do before I go. If someone is sad, ask if they want hot chocolate, and if they say yes, ask if they want it with hot water or milk. If I have a patient that is very chatty and always on the call light, allot conversation time with them like I'm scheduling wound care in case they're lonely. Whenever I tell a patient that they can't do something, I explain the clinical reasoning for that. If the only reason I can think of to tell a patient why they can't do something except "it's against hospital rules", I reconsider the refusal. I've got so many rules and guidelines I've developed for myself so I can best act in a way that I think a good nurse should act.

(usual disclaimer that this does not mean I always accomplish this or that I always behave in a way I'm proud of. but I do think developing these rules and following them makes behaving like I want to more habitual.)

All this to say--I care tremendously about my patients when they're my patients, but I don't take most of them home with me. I feel often feel very distant from the emotions of the situation. I used to feel like I was watching the world through glass. Now I still feel like that, but not in a bad way. I don't get mad when patients yell at me. I can view their problems as quests to solve. I'm engaged but I'm not flustered by distress.

look alllllllllllllllllll that to say is have you considered making nursing a special interest? works for me. oh and YEAH. The job security is AMAZING. It's such a weight off my mind to know that if I don't like my current job, it's so easy to get another somewhere else.

#nursing tag

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searchingsomewhere · 2 months ago

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All Too Well: Cursed Narrative, 15

{"I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. Take me back to the night we met."}

Gojo x OC x Geto

Cursed Narrative Masterlist

Part 14

CW: Smut. Implied threesome, Voyeurism.

I wanted this to be longer, but I have writers block. I might expand this scene at some point!

-Nero

Suguru's hands gripped the back of her thighs. His mouth was warm against hers, tongue slipping past the seam of her lips to tangle with her own. Miho shivered at the way he massaged her legs. His fingers gripped her thighs, pulling her further into his lap until she was straddling his leg.

This was wrong. It was wrong, and it would hurt. She knew that, and yet when he traced his mouth down the column of her throat she moved her head to give him more access anyway. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, moving to push his shirt from his shoulders. His hands fumbled with the zipper of her dress.

"How long has it been?" Suguru asked quietly, close to her ear, "Six years?"

"Almost," was her breathless reply. His hands on her were rough, needy, different from Satoru's slow methods of seduction. The sound of her zipper sliding further down snapped her mind away from the comparison.

Suguru allowed himself a few moments to appreciate the sight before him. Miho was shyly looking away from him, pink lips swollen and bitten, face flush. The nearby lamp cast a golden glow against her skin, shadows gently shaping the curve of her bare breasts as the silk dress slid down her form. His mouth sought her skin, pressing open mouth kisses along the valley of her breasts before taking her nipple into his mouth. His hand trailed up, gently playing with her other breast. Miho sucked in a breath, moaning softly. The sensation traveled straight to her core. Despite herself, her hips began grinding against his leg. He groaned against her skin and pullled her closer.

---

Satoru rubbed the back of his neck as he exited the elevator. The conference was finally over. He was a social person- events like this were his specialty. Making small talk, discussing politics over a glass of gin or even just humoring people he didn't like...it came easy to him. He checked his phone. The text he had sent Miho was still unanswered. As he walked down the hallway, he swallowed back the nervous feeling in his throat. She was fine. Suguru was with her. If anything had happened, he'd know about it.

He pulled his hotel key card from his pocket as he approached the door to his room. The feeling of both Miho and Suguru's energies inside eased his mind a bit. He started to open the door-

-A muffled sound made him freeze.

It was a sound he'd recognize anywhere. He'd heard it enough the last five years. The sound came again, a whiny, trembling moan that sent blood straight to his member. He laughed to himself, quietly.

All it took was a few hours alone, huh?

Satoru quickly closed the door behind him.

Only the light from the table lamp illuminated the room. Glowing blue eyes traced the scene before him. A silk red dress was discarded on the floor, forgotten, alongside a pair of black panties- his favorite pair- and a shirt. Miho was lying on the bed haphazardly, as if she had been tossed, one hand covering her mouth. He followed the line of her other arm down, down to where her hand was tangled in Suguru's hair. The ink haired man had her pulled to the edge of the bed, both legs thrown over his shoulders. Satoru shivered at the way his fingers pumped in and out of her. Suguru's other hand was working his cock. He couldn't see exactly what Suguru was doing from where he was standing, but Miho's hips grinded against him. Her face was beet red, green eyes glancing over at him.

"S-Satoru- Ah!" Her body jerked, eyes rolling back.

God, hearing his name coming from her while she was being fucked really did something to him.

Satoru quickly undid his tie and tossed it aside as he walked over. He walked to the edge of the bed, leaning down to her.

"Leave you two alone for just a few hours, and I come back to this," Satoru muttered, fingers tracing her breast. Miho squirmed under his touch, panting. She was so shy, even after all the years they'd been together. It was one of his favorite things about her. She had no idea how incredible she looked, lying there with her hair pooled around her, a deep blush cascading down her chest.

Suguru was eating her out. Mouth latched to her glistening cunt, tongue circling her clit and sliding between his fingers as he fucked her slowly. Satoru crouched down behind him, lips ghosting his neck.

"Doesn't she taste good?" His voice was strained, low, controlled.

Suguru moaned against her in agreement. Satoru reached around him, gripping his cock in his hand. The man before him stopped his attention on Miho to look over his shoulder. His hazel eyes were dark.

"Fuck," he moaned as Satoru began pumping his hand up and down his shaft.

"Keep fucking her," Satoru commanded softly, pressing his face into Suguru's neck. Suguru must have complied, because Miho began moaning louder. Satoru whispered commands in his lover's ear, telling him to speed up, to slow down, how good he felt, so hard in his hand. Miho's legs were tightening around Suguru's head as she approached her orgasm.

"I can- can't- Suguru please-" Miho begged, and Suguru pulled away from her abruptly. A whimper left her mouth as he stood. Satoru stood with him, chest against his back.

"Give her what she wants," Satoru said, reaching down to squeeze Suguru's ass. He plopped down in the chair facing the bed, unbuckling his pants. His cock, rock hard and throbbing, thumped against his stomach. Satoru sighed, taking his shaft in his hand.

Suguru tapped the head of his cock against Miho's pussy. She flinched, wrapping her legs around his waist as he pressed into her. Suguru closed his, savoring the way she wrapped around him. He hovered over her to cage her body with his own, thrusting in short bursts. Miho wrapped her arms around his neck. She stifled her moans into his shoulders. His hips rolled into hers slow and sensually, far from the primal, desperate pace she was expecting. Instead he pressed his lips to her ear, breathing heavily.

"So good," Suguru panted, "I've missed you, Miho- All these years-"

Tears pricked her eyes, both from the sensation of his fingers circling her clit and from the softly spoken words pouring from his mouth. Even as her orgasm crashed over her, even as she arched her back and gasped his name- I love you, I loveyou, Iloveyou,iloveyouiloveyou...

The rest of the night was hazy. At some point, Satoru had gotten involved, gripping her hips with soft fingertips as he laid under her, lapping up between her legs as Suguru thrusted into him. Miho couldn't take it, guided through each and every orgasm by both of her lovers, talking both of them through their own. Six years of pent up aggression, mourning, passion, portrayed in an endless entanglement of limbs, of lips pressing against flesh and words spoken only during the most intimate acts. It didn't matter that it wouldn't last.

It didn't matter than he couldn't stay. Because as the three of them laid there, under the sheets, he was there and that was all they needed at the moment.

The room was dark, lit only by the lights of the city. Miho slept with her back to Suguru's chest, cradling Satoru's head on her chest. Satoru's arms were wrapped around both Miho and Suguru, tracing idle circles on Suguru's hip. Suguru watched the city lights. Miho shifted in her sleep. Suguru pressed a kiss to the back of her head, eyes trained on the window.

"Watch it, Satoru!" Geto scolded him. At least, it would have been a scold, had he not been laughing. He looked over at her, adjusting his footing on the white dragon carrying them down to the ground. "Are you hurt?"

Curse Manipulation? Her wide eyes watched the dragon as it coiled around the building. "My- my arm is broken. Please don't drop me again!"

Suguru breathed in the soft scent of her conditioner.

"Remember when we first became friends?" Suguru said suddenly, watching his girlfriend stop to help the underclassmen up. "When we talked about what we'd do if we were ever interested in the same girl?"

Without thinking, Satoru snorted and said, "That we'd both date her?"

Silence.

He snapped his head over to his friend. Suguru was simply looking at him. Waiting for him to get it.

"You're joking with me."

"I'm not."

"Sugu- What- Are you serious?"

The fingers tracing his hip slowed to a stop, accompanied by a soft snore.

He stepped towards her. She stepped back. Hurt flashed across his face.

"I'd never hurt you, Miho," Suguru said softly. "I lov-"

Miho shook her head. "Don't. Don't you dare." Her shaking voice betrayed her hard tone. Her back hit the wall behind her. "Please, Suguru. Please don't do this."

Suguru's chest tightened and he closed his eyes. When he opened them, again, the sun was creeping over the horizon.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #fanfic #jjk geto #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #geto suguru #gojo x oc x geto #oc #satosugu #jjk oc

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squishy-lombax · 5 days ago

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I got bit by the Scooby-Doo bug and really wanted to make my own AU, which I'm calling "Groovy Scooby." I grew up watching Scooby-Doo and it's always been a big part of my life. Seeing other people make their own redesigns and AUs really got my gears turning. This took forever to make and I still need to work on the dogs and the Mystery Machine. I decided to go ahead and post the human characters at least, though.

Here's some fun facts from my AU:

Shaggy * Hates his hair cut due to a past traumatic experience. At this point, only Daphne is allowed to help tame his mop of hair. * Was diagnosed with diabetes as a child. He manages it well with a pump and service dog. *Into recreational drugs like marijuana to help ease his issues with anxiety. Overall a big advocate for mental health and hidden disabilities. *Believes gender is more of a construct and doesn't think clothing should be gatekept. Isn't shy to wear women's clothes. * Doesn't have a good relationship with his parents due to them sending him to boot-camp in order to "fix" him his gay tendencies years ago. * Knows how to operate most guns and even own ones the rest of the gang doesn't know about. However, he hopes never to use it because he's ironically anti-gun.

Daphne * Bimbo with a brain. Enjoys acting dumb for the attention but is very aware she looks good and knows how to use it to her advantage. * Makes money with her side-hustle of vlogging their van-life and making videos about true-crime. * Enjoys childish things like plushies and games, being a firm believer in the "cringe culture is dead" mentality. One of her favorite things to do is bring up Just Dance on Youtube and force the rest of the gang to dance with her. * Has been taking jiu jitsu since she was little but tends to forget it if panicked. Overall, very much enjoys fitness including jogging, yoga, and yeti tumbler collecting. * Generally goes with the flow, letting the gang make most decisions related to plans and activities. However, if she really wants something, she always gets her way. * Loves horror/thriller/slasher media, with her favorite being the classic Scream. Poor Shaggy cannot be in the same room when she's watching horror movies.

Velma * Loves to paint and draw. Overall a big arts and crafts hoe. * Refuses to shave. Will never apologize to insecure men. * The only one in the gang who graduated collage, which is in social sciences and history. Everyone else is a drop-out. * She is farsighted but usually wears her glasses all the time because she genuinely thinks she looks cute in them (she is correct) * Grew up as a token "tomboy" and now that she is an adult, she's really embarrassed by her inability to wear heels or apply makeup. However, Daphne is more then willing to help her out without making her feel dumb about it. * A terrible liar but great at asking inappropriate questions. Generally socially awkward.

Fred * Grew up in a conservative Christian household but after befriending the gang and having his world-view expanded, he no longer identifies with the religion. * Only one in the gang who genuinely loves sports. The gang tries to share his interests by going to games with him, but they don't share his enthusiasm. * His autistic superpower is knowing how to repair basically anything that's broken. However, cars is his specialty. * He's the token straight-ally character in a LGBTQ piece of media, but goddamn he's on thin-ice. * The most emotionally sensitive in the gang and not afraid to cry in public. However, the things he cries about could be something as simple as a very adorable cat photo he saw online. * He's emotionally very dependent on the gang and reverts into an NPC if separated from them. He feels very thankful he doesn't have to mask around his friends.

#scooby doo #mystery incorporated #alternate universe #this is honestly a very personal au #nostalgia #hanna barbera #shaggy rogers #daphne blake #velma dinkley #fred jones #cartoon #redesign #Groovy Scooby

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vangbelsing · 4 months ago

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The Sweetest Cure

I regret to inform you that I have, in fact, been at it again. Just a teeny little something for more Lucanis and a qunari healer mage Rook. It has my brain in a chokehold 😭

Pairing: Lucanis X Qunari!Rook

Characters: Lucanis Dellamorte, (Nonbinary) Rook

Content: Slight NSFW, not explicit but very suggestive, angst, hurt and comfort, mention of slight disfigurement, Rook is a former saarebas

His fingers traced the thin scars that seemed to lead like pathways across their body. From the base near their under arm, he dragged the very tips of his dexterous digits to follow along the trail left there, which lead down to the very edge of their hip. He felt the shiver that ripped through their body; heard the small hitch of their breath as his hands met each curve and bump along their ribs and hips.

He could not suppress the small quirk of his lips in response to this, leaning forward to plant a kiss on their bared shoulder, drinking in the scent of their skin. He noted the hint of soft floral notes in their fragrance.

His name fell from their lips in a heady sigh, the sound teetering on the edge of desperation. For him. He chuckled at that, planting another peck to their shoulder before moving his hands back upwards to rest on their ribs just under their humble breasts.

How many bodies had he held in his hands? How many times did he apply his knowledge of the body to bring about anothers end? To bring pain - or the threat of it - in order to coax information from another? He could hurt, maim and kill in so many fashions. Truly, it was for him like stacking papers was for others: just another thing you do. And he could do it well. None were so versed in mapping out the body and the most efficient ways to end them.

But not here. Here, his hands felt less practiced. Not unknown, but unfamiliar. Here, when he felt the soft pump of blood in their veins beneath that pale, nearly ivory skin, his thoughts weren't drawn to ceasing its flow, but how to quicken it. When he would move a hand to feel the thrum of their heart against its cage, he found himself thinking not how to stop it, merely that he wanted to feel it there, pumping madly in response to his every movement and caress.

He was out of his element here, touching softly, letting his hands linger there on parts left so sweetly for his gaze only. Perhaps another who knew more of living than of killing could do this better? Yet, even as he questioned, he could feel so potently the way their skin burned under his touch, hear the sound of their heart and breathing racing each time he pressed against a particularly sensitive place. It was not his specialty, true, but he wanted more. He needed to drink in this sensation, and they would let him do so gladly.

They turned then to face him, his eyes level with their chest before he tilted his head to catch their gaze. There was frenzy in that stare, their lids hooded and dark orbs glossy and wet. But there was more than lust. Somewhere, not so far beneath the surface, was a tenderness so unfamiliar to him. And how it was not hidden from him, the way they invited him to see that depth of them freely and openly, mystified him. The feeling of his lips left separate from theirs was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

His eyes moved slightly down to their mouth - to where he most wanted to feel - only to stop suddenly, the threat of displeasure tugging at the corners of his lips. Not displeasure at them, no, but at what he recognized there. It filled his chest with a glacial shard of discomfort each time he thought of it.

Their mouth was littered with scars; the ghosts of holes and stitches, marks where they been sealed shut for years beyond what he cared to count. Their punishment for being born a mage. How much suffering were they forced to endure for the crime of simply being how they were? Yet, such abject cruelty had left them no less caring. No less gentle. When one could have come away from such a life bitter or hateful, they had chosen to do what had been the sole purpose for their misfortune: to simply be as they were.

To mend pain. To heal. To act as a balm to bodies and hearts that had been left ailing. To use the magic that had been spoken of like a curse the whole of their life to do just what they had been told was anathema to its very existence: to do good. Perhaps, he thought, that this was the essence of their nature? Not the magic or their suffering from those who had cursed it, but the gentleness. The good.

As if to call him back from his mind, he felt their fingers rest at the edge of his jaw, tilting his head back up to meet their gaze. They smiled sweetly before placing a kiss at his brow, the feeling of their lips against him delicate and careful, as if they had been afraid of shattering the most fragile of porcelain. Perhaps they felt as he did when they looked at him? Had he not been through too much? His life had never been so idyllic, after all.

Lacing their fingers together, he watched their hands intertwine with pure reverence. If, out in the world there was a ceaseless haze of misery and injustice, then for now, he would stay in here. For now, they could find safety in each other. He could try to show them the deeper parts of his being; to give them a minute, an hour, a day to feel that salve of skin warming skin. To be blanketed in utter gratitude for the mere act of offering your person so freely, like feeling your kindness could touch more than just a heart.

As if he, too, could heal. If only just for an evening.

#lucanis dellamorte #lucanis x rook #dragon age rook #oc x canon #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #short fanfic #fanfic #qunari rook #nonbinary rook #im so sorry i cant get healer rook out of my brain #it's so joever so for when datv gets here

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kittyball23 · 11 months ago

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Mellow Yellow (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: JD takes what he sees as the ‘necessary’ measure to keep Clay living up to his Fun Boy persona

A/N: Wanted to pump one more oneshot out before the year’s end! This one is in celebration of New Hair's Eve lol

__________________________________________

“Hold still, Clay!”

“Ow! But you’re hurting me, John Dory!”

John Dory dismissed his younger brother with a raspberry that he blew. “Pfft. How do you expect the color to stay if you don’t scrub-a-dub-dub it in? Huh?” To emphasize his point, JD really began to grind into Clay’s scalp with his fingers, working the product into the Troll’s head.

“That’s just it,” Clay groaned, “I don’t want it to. I don’t think this is even necessary!”

JD just continued what he was doing, bending his head some so that he could speak directly into Clay’s ear, loud and clear. “Clay, I’m gonna give you the best advice you can take and tell ya to follow the ‘don’t think’ part of what you just said. I, as I’m sure you can remember, am your leader. I’ll do all the thinkin’ for you. And besides, how much thinkin’ do you gotta do when you’re the Fun Guy? You just go out and have fun!”

Clay rolled his eyes. “Who put you in charge in the first place?” he grumbled in annoyance.

JD sighed, as if Clay should have known this already. “Bro, when you’re the oldest, the role automatically goes to you. And I’m doing a pretty good job at keepin’ us all in line, if I do say so myself.”

Ego much? Clay thought, almost disgusted at how highly his brother thought of himself. He didn’t say anything though. Whenever he, or any of the bros contraindicated him, they always found that whatever they had to say was usually in one ear and out the other, unless it was them flat-out agreeing with what John Dory said.

“Plus,” JD continued cockily, “I’m the smartest, too!”

Okay, so maybe joke-telling wasn’t supposed to be John Dory’s specialty, as he was not the assigned ‘Fun Boy’ of the group, but boy was that a good one. Clay cracked up, leaving JD baffled.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” he asked.

Clay chuckled a few more times, wiping a tear from his eye and fibbing. “Nothing, bro! I was, um… I just thought of this great joke. Yeah!” He grimaced a little, hoping John Dory wouldn’t ask what it was and, to his relief, he didn’t. He patted the younger Troll on the back.

“Ah-ha! Now, that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout! Embracing the role that you were born to take. That’s the spirit!”

Clay brushed him off. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, can you just finish up already?”

JD nodded enthusiastically. “Say no more, brother. I’ll have you fixed up in a jiffy!”

__________________________________________

Even though John Dory’s ‘jiffy’ took well over an hour, Clay still felt the same sense of freedom after being released from JD’s hold… and the same sense of dismay as he looked into the mirror.

“Ah, whaddya think?” JD prompted, nudging him with his elbow. “Pretty good, huh?”

Clay glanced at him. “I thought you said not to think.”

JD scoffed. “Just tell me.”

Clay reluctantly looked back in the mirror, tilting his head in scrutiny of his reflection. “I don’t know… I wish it was still green,” he finally admitted.

JD slung an arm around his brother. “Clay, yellow is a fun color. It totally works! And green is my signature color. We can’t have two of the same color in the band - we gotta have a rainbro! More appealing to the eye!”

Clay wasn’t fully convinced. He reached up, touching strands that were a fabricated lemony-yellow instead of his preferred natural lime-green. “I don’t know…” he said again.

“You’ll get used to it,” John Dory assured, not wanting to dwell on it any longer. He then turned from Clay and clapped his hands together once. “Alright! How’s our frosty-baby-blue coming along?”

Clay followed his older brother as they entered the next room over and found Spruce and Floyd with Branch.

“Just about done!” the purple-haired Troll said with a thumbs up.

“Just one more piece…” Floyd said, carefully plucking out the last of the foil out from the top of the baby’s head, and leaving their youngest bro with brilliant white tips and a bright smile to match.

John Dory whistled in delight. “Woooweee! That looks brodacious!”

Clay smiled down at his little bro. It really does look ‘brodacious,’ he could agree.

A lot more than MY hair does…

__________________________________________

A/N: I have 3 different theories for the change in Clay’s hair color. 1) He dyed it when he was older from yellow to green as a way to camouflage and also to cut ties with his old boyband self. 2) His hair naturally changed from yellow to green as he grew up. Or 3) He was forced to have his hair dyed from green to yellow per JD

Anyhow, Happy New Year 2024, folks! 🥳🎉👏

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #john dory #clay trolls #branch trolls #spruce trolls #floyd trolls #brozone #dreamworks #fanfiction #kittyball writes #brodacious fanfiction

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minheelovelee · 4 months ago

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lovelovelove ur works ! would u mind doing a harua nsfw a-z? thank uuu

thank you for requesting!!!! 6 months later i actually wrote this piece… BUT. i wrote it yaaayyy. anon this gave me horrible horrible rua brain rot. i want a pretty boy with a little waist and long eyelashes. :(((

side note: i’m sooo so scared of switch/dom harua??? i’ve seen some discourse, but im not convinced. if anyone has anything to say about dom rua, id love to hear it :)))

harua nsfw a-z

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

- being dirty and sticky is a big no for rua. he likes to shower or take a bath after sex, no exceptions. wash his hair for him, please. he gets so clingy after sex. he likes to be babied, just for a little bit. </3

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

- he likes when his waist and tummy are touched. slipping your hands under his shirt is a guaranteed way to hear some of his pretty sounds.

- arms are kind of his thing. he likes to link arms throughout the day and grab onto your biceps when getting ridden. arms also give hugs. he likes hugs.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

- he cums so fast. he is so sensitive.

- usually he’ll finish on his tummy or chest. he doesn’t cum inside without a condom, but hates wearing condoms. :|

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

- he wants to get pegged. tied up and forced to take cock until he cries. :) he wouldn’t tell anyone that. obviously.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

- no experience. he’s a real virgin and doesn’t know what he’s doing. he just tries to go use on your reactions. what actions cause this. and what actions cause that.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

- cowgirl. he loves being ridden. especially if he can get tits in his mouth. he holds on really tight when u ride him, so it’s hard to move up and down. moving forward and back does the same for him. so sensitive :(((

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

- it took a while for him to warm up to sexual stuff. he liked to goof around at first, so he could get comfortable. now that he’s okay with different situations, he can focus more on the task at hand rather than his anxiety or awkwardness.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

- i think he shaves well. he leaves a little something to look at. otherwise, he likes it mostly bare.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

- he likes to be roughed up during sex, so intimacy isn’t the first thing on his mind during the actual deed. some days he likes to be wined and dined before sex, other days he wants to be choked against the wall. romantic aftercare is preferred, though :)))

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

- he doesn’t jerk off often. he saves himself for the actual deed. he cums buckets and it makes him sooo much more sensitive.

- if u bought him toys or told him to play with himself, he would. but on his own accord, probably not.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

- choking. he likes the pressure mixed with the mindless feeling he gets. brain tingle. feel good. he’ll scratch your arm and shove you away, then ask for more.

- power play. playing hard to get is his specialty. he can be so, so easy sometimes. it’s cute. other times, he is such a pain in the ass. overstimulating him until he cries usually does the trick. then he’s putty in your hands once more.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

- the couch is a favorite for him. it’s risky and gets his little heart pumping. he loves to act like he doesn’t want your hand down his pants.

- the bedroom is another fav. when he wants to put more effort in. especially if ur gonna overstimulate him. get some privacy, he’s so loud.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

- the word “no”

- threats and talk of punishment. dont tempt him with a good time.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

- absolutely no armpits. he’s so ticklish. please don’t tickle him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

- he’s not very experienced with oral, so it’s hard to judge his skills. he does a nice job for a beginner. he would 10/10 suck the strap.

- receiving head is one of his favorite things ever. anywhere and anytime. he would give up a lot for a single blowjob.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

- he likes things slow. the build up really gets him going. sex with him consists of a lot of sloppy groping and messy kissing.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

- he’s so down. he’d be fine having quickies often. after a few too many, he’d be pretty desperate for the real deal.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

- he would be okay experimenting. he wants to learn from his partners and try new things. there’s a lot to be said about his interest in the human body.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

- he can go two rounds typically. he’s wiped after one, so he needs recovery time. after morning sex, he’s ready by mid-afternoon for round two.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

- he’d be open to using toys. but he’s not the type to buy them for himself. he is very interested in different types of toys, he might ask for a certain one to try out.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

- rua only strikes when provoked. he’s very gentle and receptive to feedback. after being teased a bit by his partner, you won’t be surprised to see him acting like he’s clueless. suddenly he’s too tired to be on top and he doesn’t know where the clit is. top-tier actor.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

- he’s soooo whiny. if one hand is on his cock, the other better be over his mouth. he can’t help but be loud when he feels good.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

- rua is so inquisitive. he’s constantly asking questions.

- “did i do a good job?”

- “i need more. can i have more?”

- “can i taste you, please?”

- “i was so close. why did you stop?”

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

- average or slightly below. maybe 5 inches? he’s a small guy in general.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

- his sex drive is a bit higher than you’d expect. he’s often finding ways to get home faster so he can indulge himself in his partner. he feels guilty for all of two minutes before he remembers why he craved this so bad.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

- out like a light. if he’s worn out, he’s going right to sleep. if he’s hugged tight enough, he could sleep anywhere.

- but before he falls asleep, he likes to talk about little things. “i saw a cloud that looked like an elephant today.” “would you still love me if i was a worm?” “why do our feet smell and our noses run?”

#mhll harua #mhll &team #&team smut

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