#sorry if there's any grammatical issues!!!

[inkedbydesire]

Love On The Brain Pt 1 (18+)

Jimmy Uso x Black Fem OC

Warning: 18+ Content, sexual language, MINORS DO NOT ENTER

Summary: Somewhere between his irresistible smile, cheesy jokes, and mind-numbing sex, Navae's five-month whirlwind with Jonathan Fatu had turned her into that friend (the one the group chat secretly dragged behind her back). So wrapped up in her situationship, Navae didn't even notice how often she was flaking on plans, showing up late, ducking out early, or not showing up at all. It wasn't like her, and her friends noticed. Convinced Jonathan was the root of the problem, they staged a full-blown friendtervention. After being called out for trading in her day ones for a man she barely knew, Navae knew she had to make a change and fast. So when girls' weekend rolled around again, she vowed to be fully present and accounted for. Nothing was going to stop her from walking out her front door ….. except, of course, the case of her missing keys.

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Another one for Jimmy cause he’s sorta kinda my muse. Sorry for yapping but I can’t write any form of smut without giving them a reason for humping on each other (my bad 😂). But majority of the smut will be in Part 2. This is mainly just setting the scene. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors or typos.

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"Bitch I swear if you don't make it tonight we're cutting you off."

Toni's words came out jokingly, but Navae couldn't help but feel the underlying seriousness. Especially after the impromptu "friendtervention" she endured last week. She wasn't used to being on the receiving end of those things. Normally, she was the one staging the interventions, hoping to reel a straying girlfriend back to herself. So imagine her shock when Toni, Lauryn, and Kaci pulled up to her apartment and sat her down like she was the star of an A&E special and told her they were officially fed up with her shenanigans. For the first time in over five years of friendship, they had a real issue with her. And the issue had a name: Jonathan Fatu.

"He got you acting different."

Navae could still hear the way Toni said it, her nose scrunched in disapproval. Kaci and Lauryn stationed beside her, nodding in silent agreement. And then came the list. They pointed out a record of missed Sunday brunches, flaked plans, and early exits from girls' nights. Traditions Navae used to ride hard for, tossed aside the minute Jonathan called or texted. And so on and so forth.

With everything laid out in front of her, Navae had no choice but to face reality. Her girls had good reason to feel a certain way towards her. It was like she had been in a dark room for the last few months and somebody had finally opened a window. What was on the outside wasn't all that pretty.

Navae instantly realized that she didn't want to be that girl. The one losing herself in a man and neglecting her friendships. She especially didn't want to be that girl for a man she didn't have a solid commitment with because it had only been a handful of months since he entered her life.

Seeing no point in arguing against her girls, Navae only promised to do better, which is why making it to their favorite hangout spot tonight was a must. She had to prove to them and herself that Jonathan didn't have her mind completely gone. Okay... maybe he had her a little ditzy, but she was still in control.

Right?

"Toni, relax. I will be there. I'm literally doing my hair right now, and I will be heading out in another 20 to 25 minutes," Navae stated as she used her curling iron to bring volume back to her hair.

"Alright, Navae," Toni responded in a doubtful tone that slightly hurt Navae's feelings, but she quickly pushed it aside. She just had to prove her wrong. Once Toni was off her line, Navae resumed the Spotify playlist that had been entertaining her while she was getting ready.

"Baby it's you, you're the one I love, you're the one I need, you're the only one I see," Navae's voice was like nails on a chalkboard as she sang along with Beyoncé while finger-combing her curls into the desired direction. Just as she grabbed a handful of hair and tossed it over her shoulder, checking herself out, Jonathan appeared in the doorway of the bathroom.

"Damn, I thought somebody was back here killing a cat," he joked, leaning against the doorframe and watching her through the reflection of the bathroom mirror.

"Hardy har har," Navae shot back with a playful eye roll.

"Go find somebody to play with, Jonathan," she added as she shifted her focus back on her hair, attempting to dismiss him while pretending his presence didn't affect her.

Jonathan didn't like that. He was well aware of the hold he had on her because it was the same hold he felt she had on him.

He stepped closer, slid behind her, and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I wanna play with you," he stated as he rested his chin on her shoulder. The air in the bathroom thickened. Navae knew he meant that in more ways than one. Déjà vu hit her like a tidal wave as their eyes locked through the glass. Suddenly, her mind went back to their very first encounter.

It was at the birthday bash of a friend of a friend. Kaci knew the guy and thought it would be fun, so everyone tagged along. Thirty minutes after arriving with her girls, Navae started getting the eerie feeling that she was being watched. She tried ignoring it at first, but she couldn't shake it, so she scanned the party. It didn't take her long to spot him. He was standing across the room with a group of what she assumed were his friends. They were laughing and talking around him, but his eyes were deadlocked on her. And when she caught him staring, there was zero shame in his game. He didn't look away. He just kept on watching.

Typically, Navae would be annoyed by someone, especially a man, eyeing her like she was the last source of food on the planet, but she didn't mind it once she got a good look at him. Damn is all she could repeat in her head because she couldn't pull out an adjective strong enough to describe him. Her eyes traveled from the fitted cap on his head down to the clean white Air Force 1's on his feet. Now she was the one eyeing him like she wanted to take a bite.

And maybe she did.

It was the Hennessy she had been sipping since arrival that made her bold enough to walk up to him. She pulled him aside from his friends and asked him what he was looking at.

When all he did was smile, flashing the grill he was sporting at her, Navae didn't know to what extent just yet, but she was already a goner.

One thing led to another, and before the night was over, she found herself ducked off in a bathroom with him so deep inside of her you would've thought they were long-lost lovers, not two people who had just met that night. Even to this day, when Navae closed her eyes, she could still feel his breath against her ear as he repeatedly praised her for how wet she was and how good she was taking him.

She was a complete stranger, but he was in her ear, guiding her like they had known each other in a past life.

Navae didn't partake in many one-night stands. In fact, her encounter with Jonathan was only the second time she allowed herself to be that adventurous. She didn't know what it was about him that made her throw caution to the wind, but she was glad she did.

What transpired between her and him wasn't supposed to go past that night, though. They were supposed to part ways and never see each other again. But what happened in that bathroom was so electrifying that they ended up exchanging numbers, with Jonathan promising Navae that she hadn't seen nothing yet. He told her to just wait until he could really take his time with her. Navae found herself anticipating the hell out of it.

They talked for about a week before making plans to see each other again. Now, Navae wasn't a stranger to sex at all and had a few different sexual encounters with a couple of men. So, of course, part of her went into the night with Jonathan thinking some of it was just him talking himself up. She had a few dudes say what they would or could do, yet she was left basically unfulfilled. So she wasn't expecting anything above what she and Jonathan shared in that bathroom. That wasn't a bad thing, though, because it was a great experience.

But Jesus, did Jonathan live up to his words and a whole lot more. Navae had never cum so much in one night in her life. She lost count and damn near went brain dead after her seventh orgasm, and Jonathan just wasn't letting up. She had never had a man who prioritized her pleasure over his in such a way. It was like his next breath depended on how hard he could make her cum.

It got so intense in that bedroom that Navae vividly remembered telling him that she loved him. It still embarrassed her to this day because she had only known the man for a week. And to this day, he still hasn't let her live it down.

Jonathan put something on her that night that had her still paying the price today. She never meant to start being neglectful with her best friends, but it was like when Jonathan wanted her, she couldn't say no. Or it was more like certain parts of her body couldn't say no.

On top of that, Jonathan was extremely funny and charming. Over the course of five months, there was genuinely never a dull moment with him. They hadn't quite made it official yet, but Jonathan constantly assured Navae that she was the only person he was currently pursuing. And since meeting him, she couldn't even think about anybody else.

Jonathan was a ton of amazing things, but behind his knee-buckling smile and those beautiful dark eyes, Navae saw a deep possessiveness. It should've been a red flag, but it just turned her on more. The way Jonathan wanted her when he wanted her and didn't care if she made plans with God himself. That wasn't his problem. With his career and hers, their time together weekly was already limited. So when they both had free time, he wasn't too keen on sharing her with anybody else. Not even with people she knew well before him.

So many times Navae would tell him she had plans, but his favorite line was, "What that got to do with me, Navae?"

So many times she would actually go through the process of getting ready, only to have her hair messed up by how he liked to run his fingers through it while praising her for sucking his dick or throwing it back just right. Or only to have her makeup ruined by the tears she couldn't contain when he was so deep inside her it felt like he was taking a piece of her soul every time he pulled out.

Navae couldn't help but feel like Jonathan had a thing for watching her get ready just so he could be the one to undo her. That's what she thinks gets him off the most. Watching her get ready, knowing he was about to pull every move so she wouldn't even make it out the door.

There were days when she would actually make it to an event, though. Late sometimes, but she would be there. Only to end up leaving early because Jonathan would constantly be texting the filthiest things to her phone, telling her how much he needed her. And Navae always felt like she needed him in that way too, so it was nearly impossible not to give in. Even when she hadn't spent more than an hour with her friends all week.

God, she had become a terrible friend. If anyone else in the friend group were behaving this way, she would be so irritated.

It was beyond necessary that she showed and proved tonight. It wouldn't instantly fix things and put her back in everyone's good graces, but it would show that they were still just as important to her.

So Navae had to be there tonight, and she couldn't let anyone or anything stray her from that path. But here Jonathan was with his arms around her, trying to do just that. Earlier when they talked, she told him there was no point in his coming over tonight because she would be gone for hours. She and her girls were hitting up one of their favorite clubs and planned to party all night like old times. Pre-Jonathan times. But still, he showed up at her apartment about an hour ago smelling just as good as he looked, ready to call her bluff.

"You better play with yourself. I'm about to go. You already know that," Navae said to him while maneuvering out of his arms. Something she didn't necessarily want to do but had to because he was intentionally pressing his bulge against her ass. He wasn't even hard, and she could feel it. She pushed away images of the mini baseball bat he was walking around calling a penis and told herself that she had to stay focused.

Unplugging her curling iron, she looked around for what else she had to do and was happy that it wasn't much. With her hair and makeup finished, all she had to do was spray on some perfume and add a few pieces of jewelry. Then she could be out the door.

But little did she know, Jonathan had already taken one look at the way the jersey dress clinging to her body barely covered her ass and the thigh-high boots, and decided that she wasn't leaving his sight. He didn't care where she thought she was going, all he knew was that all her hard work was about to be for nothing. Well... never mind, she would definitely be getting something for it.

She looked too fucking good, and no way was some other dude at a club about to enjoy looking at her while he was stuck at her apartment thinking about every position he would rather be putting her in. He had been on the road for damn near the whole week, and all he could think about was seeing Navae.

Touching Navae.

Tasting Navae.

Being inside Navae.

He needed it bad.

And now that he was here, he wasn't trying to wait until she came back from the club too drunk or tired to get the treatment she deserved. She told him about how her friends were getting on her about the time they spent together, but he didn't see it as his issue. It wasn't his fault that Navae had bad time management skills. But what they said must've really gotten to her because she was acting a little different tonight. Anytime he touched her, she moved like she just did. And she wasn't allowing him to kiss on her or be near her for too long.

Jonathan sensed that old moves wouldn't get her to give in to the inevitable tonight, so he had to think of something else.

He took one last look at her spraying on the perfume that lingered well after she left the room before retreating to her living room. He sat down on the couch to think for a moment. Navae was determined as hell to go clubbing tonight, but he was even more determined to have his tongue wrapped around her clit in the next fifteen minutes, so... somebody had to win.

His eyes shifted around the living room before they landed on her keys on the floor near the coffee table. He noticed that Navae had a habit of walking into the house and tossing her keys without worrying about where they landed until she was about to leave again. Jonathan couldn't control the smile that crept on his face as he leaned forward and grabbed her keys. He slid them into the pocket of his sweatpants before leaning back into the couch cushions.

Just then, Navae slid on her last bracelet. She gave herself one last once-over in the mirror before grabbing the purse she matched with her outfit. Easing her phone inside her bag, she entered the living room.

"Baby, I'm about to leave," she announced to Jonathan as she walked over to where he was sitting.

"Awww, don't look like that. I'll be back," she joked as she stood in front of him as he looked up at her. She knew the look in his eyes all too well. It was an unquenchable hunger that she wasn't trying to get caught up in. At least not right now. She leaned down and ditched a kiss for a hug because she didn't want to mess up her lips. Once Jonathan had her in his arms, he softly kissed her on the neck while grabbing a handful of her ass.

Navae let it ride for a few moments before breaking away before she had to go and change her panties.

"I'll see you later, Jon," she told him, walking towards the front door. She was so close, but then she looked and didn't see her keys dangling from the hook by the door. She almost burst out laughing, remembering that she never uses the damn thing anyway. She adjusted her purse on her shoulder, then turned around and walked back towards her coffee table. But she didn't see them there either. She looked around it but still came up with nothing. All she remembered was this morning she tossed them damn keys towards something. The coffee table? The kitchen counter? The stand in her room? She checked all those places before returning to where she started with nothing.

"You seen my keys?" she asked Jonathan, who was still sitting on the couch. Now he had her remote in his hand, flipping through the channels.

"Nah... but I told you about just throwing them anywhere," he responded, not feeling any remorse for the fact that the keys she was going all over her apartment searching for were sitting in his pocket.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Can you help me look for them?" Navae asked, a little frustrated. The last thing she needed was a lecture from him. Yes, she would do the same thing at his house, resulting in them having to search for her keys each time she was about to leave. No, she didn't need to be reminded of that right now.

"Yeah, but come here right quick," Jonathan told Navae as he put the remote down, realizing that now was his opportunity to reel her in. Navae walked back over and stood in front of him after dropping her purse on the coffee table.

"Yes?" she asked him.

"I did something to you?" he questioned her, knowing damn well she wasn't mad at him or anything. But he needed a way to get her on the hook. He placed his hands on her hips, looking up at her as she looked down at him with her hands resting on his shoulders.

"Why you think that?" Navae asked, confused. Yes, she had been a little standoffish today because she didn't want to get caught up in him, but she didn't think he would view that as her having a problem with him.

"I don't know," Jonathan answered with a shrug.

"You just been acting a lil funny today. You ain't gave me a kiss or nothing since I been here. Every time I try to touch you, you walk off from me. That shit got me feeling like you got a problem with me," Jonathan said, laying it on thick. He did feel a little bad for playing with her head for his benefit, but he figured each time he got her to cum would be his way of making it up. They both would win in the end.

"We're fine, Jon. I'm not upset with you about anything. I was just focused on getting ready," Navae reassured him as she stroked his beard, feeling bad that her actions made him feel that way.

"Feel better?" she asked him to ensure they were okay. With everything going on with her girls, the last thing she was prepared for was an issue with him. Although she knew her friends would probably be happy to see him go.

"I will be once you give me a kiss," Jonathan told her, then flashed a reassuring smile her way to let her know they were straight. He had no intentions to upset her too badly. He just needed an angle to keep her from making him wait longer for what he needed.

"Do you see this?" Navae said while waving her hand towards her face. "It took a minute to get it right. I can't mess it up."

"You got more than one set of lips, Navae."

To Be Continued……

[choas232]

Canine Vastaya! G/N! reader x Steb ⊹ ˖ 𓃡⊹ ˖

Summary: Progress day has you and your fellow enforcers relaxing. Slacking, even. Posted deep in the bowels of the festivities, you decide (against your will) that you might join them along with your coworker, Steb.

Reader is a canine Vastaya, and an enforcer. NO MORE SILLY READER. We are serious people now. No use of Y/N, neutral terms and they/them are used to refer to reader.

CWs: Emetophobia, just one line and not described in depth. Suggestive themes. Most of all, SLACKING ON THE JOB.

Word count: 3.3k

⊹ ˖ 𓃡⊹ ˖

Gold. So much gold. Glimmering and crowding, the city fighting itself so violently that even you, you with your dulled Vastaya vision, can see the gory speculate of the festivities laid bare for all to see. The squawks of children, vendors, golden ticking butterflies, machinery, force your ears flush to your head. The scent of cheap carnival treats masquerading as delicacies assaults your sensitive nose, and try as you might you can’t push down the fur dusting your neck, standing on end.

Overstimulating. Cruel. Beautiful. You lean back on the chair, pressing your coiled tail against the hard surface to hide how it curls close to you.

“Can I leave now?” The man sat in the medical tent behind you slurs out. You do not give him the courtesy of replying, but you turn, catching Steb tucking the equipment back into its rightful places. The man’s not on any of the horrid drugs you see slipping out of Zaun these days, and although his remaining brain cells might be worse for wear, he just needs to sleep it off.

Maddie finishes chewing out his drunkard friends for leaving him passed out, and hastily trots back to the tent, wiping the thin gleam of sweat off of her forehead and quickly adjusting her hat. It’s only a brief lapse before she’s back to Junior officer Nolan, sternly helping him to his feet and carting him out to his waiting, hooting friends.

“Having fun?” She teases, returning back to the tent and slumping down on the chair beside you. You scoff, and turn back to watching the crowds, still spotting out of the corner of your eye how Steb moves to join you.

You try not to look at him, instead focusing on the ginger beside you. This turns out the be almost as much as a mistake as allowing yourself to dwell on your affections for him, because she’s already looking at you.

You see her grey-blue eyes flick to your tail, pressed tightly down between your legs now that your audience is gone, and then back to your ears. “Or maybe, disappointed to be missing out on the fun?” she gestures to the drunkards, stumbling away and your lips pull back in a semi-amused scoff.

“I’m working. This is important.”

“I think our law-mandated breaks are pretty important too.” You give her a scrutinizing look, and she shrugs, still smiling. “You two take a break. I’ll man the station.”

Two. Alone with him? No. You can’t.

“Your hypocrisy is almost as amusing as the fact you’d think I’d even consider taking a break.” You hastily push out, grasping like a drowning cat for a footing.

“Ahhhh. There’s where you’re wrong. I don’t think. I know.” She tilts her head, pointing a freckled finger towards your face.

Dammit. Your ears, perking up of their own accord, press against the hard surface of your enforcer helmet and traitorously peeking out. You move to tuck them away, scowling as you do, and you swear you watch her swallow a snicker.

Telling her was a mistake. Why did you think telling his closest friend you held… affection for him was a good idea? That your helmet is so tight it makes your skull ache in an attempt to hide your perking ears? That you stayed up teaching yourself sign language for him, even though you knew you could never let him know? That you think of him, constantly, each 24 hours, 1440 minutes and 86400 seconds of your days?

Possibly the alcohol in your system and the choking feeling of having pressed the fondness low in your gut, hoping it would rot. It didn’t

Steb watches the exchange without interjectural, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. Calmy, he reaches a hand to brush at his scaled cheek before beginning work on unrolling the sleeves still tucked up from his medical misadventure.

You feel like a teenager, rabid and nervy as you try not to look, but also try not to look like you’re trying not to look.

 “Steb? Thoughts?” Maddie, noticing your gaze, crosses her legs, looking up at him from her place on the chair and folding her arms.

His eyes widen slightly at addressal, and he shallowly nods, tilting his head towards you followed with a questioning look. Do you want to?

Misinterpreting his communication on purpose, she gleefully spins back around to meet your glare. “A yes than. Don’t worry friends. I’ll be just fine all on my lonesome.” She turns to meet the sea of wide brimmed hats, parasols (all the rage, lately,) and bold, bright colours, and you know the conversation is done. She can be frighteningly persistent when she puts her mind to a task, and you know better than to argue and further her teasing.

With a sigh and a quick prayer to the heavens, you turn to make the maker of your troubles, who politely offers you a hand. You take it, and he hauls you off of the chair.

You curse the makers of the leather gloves that adorn his hands.

Great heavens. Where did that come from? Certainly not you.

Trying to accept defeat with grace, you say, “I could use a walk, anyways,” stretching as you do, popping your back and pushing out your arms until your claws scrape the roof of the tent. Steb’s eyes follow, and then snap away as you peer at him. “Any sightseeing you want to get done?” You try to evenly ask him.

He pauses, and then, with a tilt of his head, splays a hand out to instead gesture to you. He’s doting. You’re not to used to it. You didn’t get to where you are with hands holding on to yours, anyways.

“Well. I… I could do with some food.” There’s this stall, far from the main, noisy festivities and food-poisoning littered stalls that sells the sweet fried fruits of your childhood. Crunchy, thick and rolled in flour on the outside, and slick with blue, sweet juices that burst on your tongue when you take a bite. Nice to gnaw on for your teething child’s self, blue staining your lips and splattering across the pressed shirts your parents draped you in for Progress Day.

He nods, and then concernedly taps his helmet with a flicker of his ears. For a moment you don’t understand.

Then you do.

Of course he remembers how you complained about how the enforcers uniform’s headpiece hurts your ears, not built to suit Vastaya. A throw away comment. Of course, he looks at you with those big, gleaming blue eyes, stupidly kind-hearted, and of course your traitorous tail kicks up behind you.

You clamp it between your legs, meeting his eyes defensively and ignoring how they glance down to observe it. From her place, Maddie is grinning. You don’t need to look at her to tell.

You unclasp your helmet, dropping it onto a nearby table, flickering out your strained ears out not unlike your limbs minutes prior.

“Ready to go?” You inquire, and his ears affirmative flicker, nodding goodbye to Maddie as you leave. You do too, but with a different picture painted in your features. She laughs, and then the crowd swallows you whole.

The adults parts around you, one bonus to being in uniform. The children, however, do not follow this courtesy, instead slamming past you after miniature flying ships and bright, pink bubbles that chime when they pop. You have half a mind to reach out and feel the oil and soap slick surface yourself, your glimmering reflections blinking back at you.

Steb observes each passerby, each float and display with keen interest, every now and then glancing back at you. You try to pre-emptively look away when he does. He’s perceptive, you’ve noticed. Alert. Always the first to act, always to first to spot the danger.

You just hope he doesn’t notice how without meaning to you drift closer to him, how now your ears press against your skull with a different emotion than overstimulation.

You have half a mind to mimic his attention, anyways. The arcane, and technology, has been kind to you this year. The exploits of the people of Piltover has been many. You pass a humanoid golden robot, speaking animatedly and advertising the goods of a nearby vendor, and then a functioning, beating silver heart, water pumping through its long metal cords. A man yells over at you, trying to sell you golden jewellery fit for adorning your fangs, stopping when he sees the uniforms.

All the metal, the fabrics, and the ridiculous uniform, the heat cages you in. You push down the urge to stick out your tongue, pant, instead reaching up to massage sweat out of your nape and furred ears.

With a tap on your shoulder that makes you startle, he cuts through the crowd towards a nearby vendor, gesturing for you to wait. You do, and moments later he returns with water.

He makes it so hard not to love him.

Gratefully, you take it, unbottling the cap and taking a great gulp, water dribbling down the sides of your mouth. His sip of his own bottle, cool and elegant, makes you feel slightly ashamed, but he doesn’t seem to care. After refusing to let you pay him back, you continue on your way.

Finally, after what feels like simultaneously too long and too short of a trip, you duck under a banner-stricken archway, and step into the courtyard. Less adorned than the other sections of the festival, but in your humble opinion, kinder on the eyes. Copper, oxidized and gleaming blue, is crafted into flowers. They paste themselves over every inch of the courtyard, forming archways up to a great canopy, light filtering through to softly  illuminate your path, along with a cool breeze.

Small tents, strung with buzzing lights dot the area. Families sit beneath them, enjoying modified ice-cream that never melts, young couples tenderly brush their hands together on benches, and vendors chat.

You approach the stall, the store vendor barely looking up. The little embroidered rhinestones on their face flash as they lazily push a hand towards a sign, reading out the golden font. “30% discount for couples,” before turning back to the puzzle, some kind of contraption with a prize inside, no doubt.

You’re halfway through an awkward, no, that’s not, we’re not— when the scent of the fruits plasters to your nostrils. Delicious, dripping in memories of childhood, of stained fabric and high-pitched giggles.

Dammit.

Steb glances at your wagging tail, crushing any hope of retaining your dignity. He doesn’t look away quickly this time, trailing up slowly to meet your eyes, lips slightly parted. Your body betrays you, as it always does. You just hope he assumes the fruits are the cause.

“We’ll have six, please.” You defeatedly ask, abruptly looking away. Three for you, three for him.

Do you look like a couple? With your matching posture, neat uniforms, completely and utterly in step… you need to be, to do the work you do, and you talk without talking, but it’s largely because he’s mute. So why did they…

He reaches down into his pockets to tug out his wallet. You beat him to it, slamming yours down with a dull thump against the counter. He would scoff, you think, had he been more animation in his features, but the narrow of his eyes makes you well aware of his displeasure. You smile back at him, enjoying the childish feud. Your fangs flash.

Your damned tail is still wagging.

The vendor passes you the long, wooden sticks, three of the delicious treats impaled on them. You take yours and repress the urge to devour it immediately.

“Where to sit…” You mumble, only to spot the tents, shaded from the light and cooled by the breeze. Steb follows you as you fall with a thump into the tangle of blankets. He carefully sits as not to drop the treat, removing his hat and carefully placing it in the mouth of the tent.

You dig in. It’s exactly as what was remembered, filling, the thick fried flour coating contrasting with the blue juices inside. At first, you try to eat neatly, like you see your fellow Enforcer doing, but that falls to pieces the moments you get your fangs on the fruits. You wolf it down, (a pun, from you? More likely than one would think.) with a gusto that scares you, and place the wooden stick down on the mat below you.

You watch as he tilts his head, holding one hand under his mouth to catch stray crumbs and the other holding the stick at an angle so he can sink his pearly whites into the treats. It’s a careful process, one that doesn’t leave any of the mess splattered across his face, nor his shirt.

Conversation isn’t your strong suit. You aren’t literate in waxing poetic, nor charming the teeth off your fellows. The silence you keep with him is comfortable. It houses you in it’s embrace not unlike the breeze gently nipping at your skin.

You hate to say it, but Maddie was right. You’re enjoying this. Perhaps too much. You can hear your disobedient tail gently thumping against the fabric.

God, you’re parched after devouring the treat. Already having finished your own bottle, you eye Steb’s. Would it be weird to ask him to take a sip? Would you wrap your lips around the rim? No, no, but pouring it into your mouth without contact might look childish and ridiculous��� perhaps you shouldn’t…

He notices you looking and slides you the bottle. Without thinking, your mind still screaming, you unclasp the top and take a swig. Saliva— his saliva is on the lips of the bottle… lips?

God, are you fifteen? You need to get a hold on yourself.

“You’ve been quiet.” You mutter, without really thinking. His eyes narrow, his head cocking coyly to the left. “I— you know what I mean… you haven’t been saying as much… showing as much?” He humours your attempts at communication with his full attention, turning to meet you as he places the blue-stained wooden stick away.

“…are you nervous?”

He shakes his head.

“Tired?”

Again. A quick shake.

“I’m out of guesses.”

He leans back, a quiet hum coming deep from his throat as he does. “Calm?” you don’t know why you sound as disbelieving as you do. A shallow nod, with a wave of his hand this time, towards your loose posture, relaxed, perked up ears and gently wagging tail. You’re calm too, you suppose.

Then, with a pause, he reaches up to brush his fingers to his cheek. “Hmm?” You mirror him, pressing yours to your own face. Your fingers come off blue.

He dips his fingers into his breast pocket, pulling out that neat, unstained handkerchief. Does he buy them in bulk? Does he clean them? A mystery you don’t want to uncover. He hands it to you, and you thank him quietly. He watches you as you dab the corners of your face, for a moment, before he repoints, gesturing for you to move to the left. You miss it again, before he reaches out, not bothering to take the handkerchief from you.

With the rest of his hand braced across your jaw, he stretches out a thumb to push, hard, down, wiping the fleck off juice off.

When he pulls away, you see blue on his finger.

Nonchalantly, he pops his thumb in his mouth, gently tugging the juice off with more teeth than tongue, before his hand moves to rest beside him once again.

You gape. You gape some more. Does he know what he does to you? Reduces you, you, studious and hardworking, you, into a mess. A stuttering, tail-wagging, blushing mess. You want to strangle him. You want to kiss him. He glances back at you, and you try to casually resume what you were doing before— what was that again?— your senses kicking into overdrive.

“Did you enjoy the uhm, snack?”

He nods, relaxedly. You feel, and retain, the horrible feeling you are being teased.

“…Yeah. Me too.” You swallow, and than talk, maybe to fill the once comfortable silence, wrangle it into submission. “I used to come here with my parents. When I was younger. They used to dress me up— in shirts they knew would be ruined by the grime I would acquire playing carnival games. I…” You don’t know where you’re going with this. Ceasing your rambling, you knead fabric in your hands. “Any happy memories of Progress Day?”

He nods. For a lapse too long to be natural, he pauses, almost in thought, and then with his thumb and pinkie fingers extended and his three middle fingers curled into his hands, he hurriedly brings his arms down. ‘Now.’ ‘Today.’

Sign language.

“I’m glad.” You quickly mutter, before your running mind can outpace your voice. Your face is treacherously flushing.

You realize too late he doesn’t know you’ve been teaching yourself sign language.

That him using it makes little sense— and frozen in the headlights, you watch as his face changes. He peers at you. He peers at you some more, and then his hands are moving, quickly. You catch pieces, something— M-A— something—I-E —Tell — something—

Oh. Oh no.

“Maddie? Maddie told you what, exactly?”

This is the situation of your nightmares. Telling her was a mistake. A drunk mistake you’ll regret for the rest of your life, your pitiful life. Scared to watch his face but fearful looking away will make you look guilty— can you deny this? Laugh it off?— you hover somewhere between letting your racing thoughts overwhelm you and trying to breathe, dammit.

Slowly now, he pats his fingers to his outspread palm, before tapping his forehead.

‘Learn.’

He points to his moving hands

Learn… sign language….

Oh. Thank the lords.

She told him you learnt sign language for him.

Like that’s any less of a confession of love.

He’s still looking at you. Waiting for an explanation, maybe. God, you hate feeling like this— completely at his mercy.

“I. Ah.” Is it just you, or is he moving closer? It’s messing with your head, anyways, how close he suddenly feels to be. Your heart rattles around your ribcage. “I wanted to. For you.”

For you? You’re an idiot—

He kisses you.

You taste sweetness, sugary and blue on his lips. They’re softer than you thought they would be. He kisses as earnestly as expected, though. Just once, very chaste, pulling back to gingerly watch your expression.

That doesn’t last long before you go in for seconds. Or maybe he kisses you again. The details are lost in the hand you thread into his hair— his hair gel slick hair.

His hands blindly clutch for the curtains of the tent, yanking them shut with force. Your tail thumps so loudly against the ground you barely hear the little noises you make, barely feel his hands, steadying themselves on your sides. You kiss him again. And again. You gorge yourself on it— like the hungry wolf you are. He is so soft, and you are starving.

Piltover’s finest. Piltover’s finest. You’re Piltover’s finest. Handpicked, educated and dressed in taxpayer funded uniforms. You’re golden, machine-made butterflies, you’re store vendors, you can’t think, you’re ripe and plump for the picking, and you’re hating these stupid uniforms, these wretched uniforms, so tough to unbutton as they are.

It’s just when he threads his tongue over your pointed teeth, only when you move your fingers to his shoulders, and then down, when somebody staggers over drunkenly, throwing up loudly in a nearby bush.

With a sigh, he detaches (you do not miss the string of blue-stained saliva that connects you for a brief moment), rising to his feet and feeling for his helmet.

No rest for the wicked, you suppose.

He gives you a long look as he tugs the tent door open, tapping his finger against his palm and then twisting his hand down.

‘Later?’

Your tail thumps louder than you thought it could.

⊹ ˖ 𓃡⊹ ˖

Notes: Thank you to @spac3-shark for suggesting this sihiwnsowd. If i ever revisit this idea, I might try feline reader. Cat x fish? You get what I’m putting down? We’ve done yapping, silly reader, and stoic reader…. What next. If you have any ideas, please message me, drop an ask, anything!!! :)

As a side note, You curse the makers of the leather gloves that adorn his hands.

Great heavens. Where did that come from? Certainly not you.

Reader: he should take off his gloves…

Reader: WHO SAID THAT.

SIDE SIDE NOTE: I swear there will be more kissing and less yearning next time!! you have my word.

[anxiousgaypanicking]

Preening

Prinxiety (Roman x Virgil) Prompt: I was wondering if you'd be able to write something with prinxiety or Virgil/Roman/Janus in some kind of winged!au where the wings are pretty sensitive and one of them has feathered wings and kinda gets off on having them groomed/preened? Maybe they get embarrassed about it so let their wings get a little messy before the other(a) step in to help and find this out? And then maybe decide to make things fun (wink) Idm necessaily who's in which role :3 I just never see smut with a focus on wings and think it would be really cute <3 no pressure tho!! /Gen Warnings: preening, handjobs, overstimulation A request from my AO3

Virgil shifts in discomfort, prompting Roman to turn to him and frown. When Virgil notices the bitter look, he mumbles an apology, but Roman doesn't look away. 

"You keep squirming," Roman comments, almost judgmentally, though Virgil knows Roman well enough by this point to understand he's concerned. "I know my bed is not this uncomfortable, so what is?"

"It's nothing," Virgil tries to dismiss, though when Roman sits up - opposed to their former position of cuddling together, Virgil's eyes can't help but flicker towards Roman's white wings, which stretch out briefly, flap shortly (unintentionally knocking Virgil in the arm), and then tuck snugly against Roman's back. After being laid on for the majority of their snuggle session, Virgil understands the need to spread them and soothe the ache within them. But Virgil's own wings were folded beneath his hoodie - of which he loved too much to cut the appropriate slits in which would otherwise allow his wings to slip out. However, not allowing them to stretch was causing dull pain to reverberate in his bones. 

Roman sees Virgil look towards his wings, and then frowns as he reaches to tug at Virgil's hoodie sleeve. 

"If you took this off you'd probably feel a little better," Roman says, which has Virgil yanking his arm away and frowning. "Even if at least for a minute. Your wings need to stretch." 

"No they don't," Virgil lies, shrugging off Roman's worry. "I'm fine. Just needed to shift positions is all." 

"Your wings need to shift positions." 

Virgil rolls his eyes and glares at Roman, which causes Roman to pout softly, as he leans against Virgil needily, sliding one of his hands beneath Virgil's hoodie and rubbing it against Virgil's ribs. 

As his thumb presses against Virgil's side, Roman mumbles "I don't want you to be in any discomfort, Virgil. Just... just stretch them briefly, won't you? For me?" 

Virgil nearly cringes at Roman's words, and doesn't hesitate to shove Roman away, but Roman smiles at the noticeable flush decorating Virgil's cheeks and the way his hands play with his hoodie strings as he considers Roman's plea. 

Eventually though, Virgil pulls his hoodie off. He keeps it crumpled on the bed next to him, but gives himself the opportunity to finally let his wings splay. It does feel rather refreshing - especially since Virgil would only normally let his wings free at night before heading to bed. So a mid-day sprawl was incredibly soothing. 

He spreads them out fully, with Roman leaning forward so that Virgil's wings could stretch behind him, but is staring rather intensely at the dark feathers. 

As Virgil's wings briefly flap and shake, and then tuck against his back, Virgil realizes that Roman's still staring. It starts to make him nervous. 

"Sorry," he instinctively apologizes, as he goes to put his hoodie back on. Roman quickly stops him though, leaning to set his hand atop Virgil's as he shakes his head, but his brows are furrowed in thought as his gaze stays shifted towards Virgil's back. 

"Don't be sorry," Roman quickly dismisses, as he reaches for Virgil, before stopping just short of his shoulder. Glancing at Virgil's face, he sees that Virgil is staring at him in discomfort, and so Roman retracts his hand. "I should be apologizing. I don't mean to stare. Could I just..." Roman chews his inner cheek, choosing his words carefully, before restarting with "may I touch your wings?" 

Virgil flushes at the request - more so out of shame than fluster - but nods anyway. 

Roman gently takes one of Virgil's wings, and guides it out, shifting his position so he's sitting the opposite direction Virgil is facing. As Virgil's wing is spread, Roman frowns, and Virgil rubs his hands together anxiously at the sight. 

"Is... is something wrong?" he asks, but Roman quickly reaches over to squeeze Virgil's thigh in a soft bit of assurance. 

"No, no," Roman quells him, before sort of humming and going "well, kind of." 

Virgil doesn't like that answer, and shoots Roman an upset look, which has Roman huffing and going "well, something is wrong! I wasn't going to lie to you." Roman's fingers gently brush over Virgil's inner wing, over the rough feathers, and even feels one coming loose! He goes to grab and pluck it in order to ease Virgil out of the discomfort the stray is no doubt causing him, but Virgil's face goes bright pink as his wing quickly flaps to knock Roman's hand away, and tucks back against his spine instead. 

"Be careful," Virgil hisses, as Roman pouts at the retraction. "You can't just go around pulling feathers off my wings!" 

"They need preened!" Roman whines childishly, as he grabs at Virgil's shirt and places a few rapid-fire, uncoordinated kisses over his face as if trying to convince Virgil of his point. "I'm sure those stray feathers can't feel comfortable! Let me pluck them, darling, I promise you'll feel so much better." 

Virgil shoves Roman away with a huff. "They don't need preened," he mutters dejectedly, pulling his knees to his chest. 

Roman frowns, and turns away from Virgil to mess around in his nightstand. After a few moments, he pulls out an expensive looking brush, that he shows off to Virgil. 

"Grooming brush," Roman proudly explains, smiling wide. "The bristles are incredibly soft and designed for feathers." 

Virgil stares at the brush, and briefly thinks back on his time with Remus and Janus. He tries to remember if he ever saw them grooming their wings. Virgil stares at the brush, and then looks back at Roman. "Remus never brushed his wings." 

Roman frowns at the mention of his brother, but still explains "Remus's wings aren't feathered like yours and mine. They're just skin. I'm shocked he can even fly." Roman then pushes his beautiful golden brush into Virgil's hands, encouraging him to run his fingers over the soft white bristles, and Virgil is indeed shocked with how gentle they are against his flesh. "This brush is specifically made for wings like mine. It's able to ease loose feathers away from the wings, and smooth them out overall."

Virgil hands Roman his brush back, still looking a bit unsure. Roman takes it from him, but then kisses Virgil's head. 

"Trust me," Roman implores him. "You'll feel so much more comfortable with them brushed out. I'll be gentle, I promise."  

Virgil chews his inner cheek, looking admittedly doubtful... but he trusts Roman. And if Roman's wings looks so smooth and well-groomed, then surely he has a lot of experience in combing through the feathers. And honestly Virgil's wings have felt stiff and uncomfortable for days now, more so than usual.

So, slowly, Virgil slides down the bed a bit, and lets his wings spread. Seeing this as an invitation, Roman smiles and moves to be sitting behind Virgil. 

Fingers gliding gently against his feathers, Virgil shivers in anticipation as Roman merely pets over his wings for a moment, as if smoothing them out until they're spread just enough for him to have the most unhindered access. 

Roman holds the brush in his hands, and hums as he looks for the best place to start. Eventually, he settles on combing from the inner side outwards, starting with the feathers closest to Virgil's back. Most of the feathers here look loose, and many fallout the moment his bristles brush against the plumes.

Immediately, Virgil can't help but sigh at the sensation of these disgruntled feathers - that have been irritating his wings so fervently - being removed tenderly by Roman's gentle hand.

"I don't mean to pluck," Roman murmurs, as Virgil feels Roman's fingertips gently push into the skin of his wings. "Some of these feathers are just so buried in your skin that my brush can't even ease them out. It's like an ingrown hair..." and then Roman's grimacing at his own words, as if nauseated by the comparison. Virgil can't see his face, but he understands what Roman's saying, and flushes shamefully because that's exactly what it feels like. Just to an amplified degree.

"This can't be comfortable," Roman then continues, as Virgil looks towards the pile Roman's making as he sets the removed feathers aside. "I really wish she would have let me know about this sooner. You don't have to live in discomfort, Virgil."

"It's just.. not your problem..." Virgil mumbles in reply, and though his voice is breathy, it's not out of guilt or anything, but in fact out of fluster.

As Roman's brush begins to swipe towards the latter half of his wingspan, Virgil's body starts to feel hot. His wings are rather sensitive, and even a cool breeze could send him shuttering - let alone the diligent bristles of a delicate brush, combing through him with such compassion. 

Virgil squirms a little, and causes the brush to press deeper into his wings, which has him abruptly covering his face. Roman retracts as soon as he notices.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Roman asks, halting all movements. Though he's only combed about half of one wing, if detangling feathers was hurting Virgil, then he was worried about continuing. "I'm so sorry. I thought I was being careful!"

"You are being careful," Virgil replies, though he sounds considerably muffled.

Roman pouts, interpreting Virgil's words as a lie. "If I was being careful then you wouldn't be hunched over like I hurt you," he huffs, and wraps his arms around Virgil's wait. He lays his chin on Virgil's shoulder, but is careful to not press his front against Virgil's wings, as if scared of irritating them further.

Virgil's silent for a moment, before he nervously peels his hands away from his cheeks. He sets his hands atop Roman's knuckles, and very gently guides Roman's fingers downwards, over his pudgy stomach, and then down between his thighs, where Roman's palm meets an unmistakable bulge. When Roman rubs it, Virgil has to stifle a soft moan, and they both end up red in the face.

There's silence between them for a moment, and Virgil almost goes to pull away, worried he's ruined things, but then Roman is rubbing over his bulge more firmly.

"Did... did I do that?" Roman asks, which is a question that admittedly makes Virgil snicker.

"Who else could've," Virgil snarkily replies, but his words are obviously playful, which easily melts some of the tension. At this silly response, Virgil feels Roman's concern melt into a similar bout of playfulness, and then he's kissing the side of Virgil's chin.

"What did I do," Roman then asks, after a moment, which has Virgil chewing his bottom lip.

Virgil has a pretty good guess on what it was that has him so excited, but admitting such would no doubt be embarrassing. However, after some further prompting from Roman, Virgil utters something soft and embarrassed about "the brush" and "my wings."

It doesn't take an expert to piece these things together, and Roman is instantly cooing at just how sensitive Virgil's wings are.

"Aw!" Roman immediately exclaims. "Just a bit of brushing and you're already worked up! Is that why you don't groom them? Because you get too hard and have to stop?"

Virgil whines out Roman's name, almost as in a plea with him to stop teasing, which has Roman laughing and saying that he's just kidding.

Roman then pulls away from Virgil, his arms sliding past Virgil's waist, before he grabs his brush and continues his preening. Virgil can't help but flush darkly at how Roman just shamelessly neglects him after finding out he's hard, but he supposes that his wings are in desperate need of plucking and grooming, so he doesn't stop Roman regardless. Besides, he wasn't lying when he said the brush was what aroused him, because as it continues to slide through his feathers, he can't help but let little moans slip past his lips.

"Feel free to touch yourself while I preen," Roman says, surprisingly casual, though he's blushing just as much. "You shouldn't have to be neglected while I continuously stimulate you. I'd never deny you pleasure, Virgil, just like you should never deny yourself self-care." 

Virgil says something quiet about being embarrassed, but Roman can't really understand it. And despite his apparent embarrassment, Roman hears a zipper, and then glances over Virgil's shoulder to see he's pulled his cock out anyway, as if he's desperate to touch despite still habitually complaining about it. Roman can't help but laugh softly, and press his own thighs together to hide the fact Virgil's got him excited as well. 

More loose feathers are carefully preened from Virgil's wings as Virgil tries to touch himself in tandem to the movements of Roman's brushing. 

"There," Roman sighs, happy with his work, as he gives Virgil's wing a few loving strokes once it's been completely brushed out. "That one's done. Give it a flap for me, won't you?" 

Virgil does - his wing retracts, and then stretches out, and then flaps, scattering most of the loose feathers Roman had meticulously piled up on the bed. Virgil immediately frowns at the mess, while Roman chuckles again, mumbling an embarrassed "whoops." 

He moves his brush to the second wing, starting again from Virgil's back and brushing outwards, but says "that feels nice, doesn't it? I'm sure there's a noticeable difference." 

Virgil mumbles something in response, swiping his thumb over the slit of his cock and dragging his pre downwards, smearing it over the length of his shaft. He shivers again as Roman brushes over his wings, and suddenly jolts as Roman plucks another disorganized feather from his back. 

"Roman!" he squeals, before shoving a hand over his mouth. He hears Roman sharply breathe in behind him, but Roman doesn't say anything, and instead brushes over the spot he just pulled a feather from. Virgil squeezes his eyes shut in embarrassment, and the hand around his cock squeezes as well, as Roman continues grooming him. 

Each brush of Roman's bristles has Virgil gasping or moaning softly. It felt like Roman was caressing his inner thighs, over his ass, even rubbing over his front in terms of sensitivity. He feels so good that he's almost jealous he's never given his wings the time of day before! And Roman seems overly aware of the power he has, as he spends a lot longer on this wing than he did on the last, combing over the same spot repeatedly until the feathers and skin of Virgil's wings are so soft that he's forced to move on. 

Roman's taking such gentle, tender care of Virgil. He's being careful and attentive, and his hands are so skilled at preening and plucking. 

His brush is indeed soft, but when Roman takes the time to card through Virgil's feathers with his own fingers, Virgil almost comes right then and there.

"Roman," Virgil moans, taking in a stuttering breath. "Roman, please." 

"I can't go any faster, Virgil," Roman muses in response, as he uses his hands to gentle comb through Virgil's feathers, teasingly pressing the pads of his fingers into the skin of Virgil's wings. He swears he can feel Virgil's rapid heartbeat through beneath the feathers, and rubs smoothly against thin skin there. "You wouldn't want me to accidently miss anything, after all." 

Roman's finger dips into a certain spot, nestling beneath an unruly feather, and as he begins to ease it out, Virgil suddenly cries out. 

"Fuck, there!" he pleads, stroking his cock vigorously. "Keep rubbing there!" 

Roman does. With a flush on his face, he lightly drags his nails along that exact spot, pushing and pressing into it, rubbing against it and continuing to ease the loose feather more and more out of place. And just as Roman's soft scratching fully works the feather from Virgil's wing, Virgil's flooded with relief, both from the itching, annoying feather falling away from his body, and from him finally letting go, and letting himself stroke his cock through a quick and relaxed orgasm. 

He makes a mess of his pants, and Roman's bed, but he keeps pumping his shaft until he's satisfied, and then lets his head fall back as he pants, meeting Roman's eyes. Roman was watching him through it, but quickly turns his head in embarrassment when Virgil meets his eyes. 

Virgil's heavy breathing fills the room, until Roman resumes his preening, using his actual handheld brush this time as he works on the end of Virgil's wings, making Virgil whine softly. 

"Roman," he weakly protests, but Roman just hushes him with a dramatic "shh." 

"It's not my fault you finished before I did," Roman pouts, though he's only teasing. "I'm almost done, alright? Just a little bit more, and your feathers will be as soft as a baby fledglings." 

Grumbling something bitterly, Virgil huffs, but doesn't push Roman away, and instead lets Roman finish up his grooming. However, with the bristles lightly scratching through his feathers and the constant petting from Roman's hand, Virgil is embarrassingly worked back up again. So much so, that when Roman's done, Virgil lets out a soft whine of protest. 

"Why are you upset?" Roman pokes him, grinning like a dope as he rubs his hand through Virgil's wings a final time. When he deems them preened to perfection, he puts his brush away. "You should be feeling a lot better now." 

But when he moves to wrap his arms around Virgil's waist once more, his knuckles bump against Virgil's cock, which is fully stiff, and very messy. 

Virgil feels the heat radiating from Roman's face, but with it resting on his shoulder, he can't gauge Roman's countenance. 

Instinctively, Virgil mutters "sorry," but then Roman's wrapping his fingers around Virgil's shaft, and stroking it slowly and carefully, giving Virgil's cock his full and intense attention. And when Virgil moans, and asked through bated breath what Roman's doing, he just gets kissed on the side of the head in response. 

"Consider it a 'thank you,'" Roman explains, cheerily. "For letting me brush through your wings." 

"But that was already-" Virgil pauses to moan in overstimulation, and then swallows a follow-up whine, struggling for a minute to recompose himself. "Preening me was already a gift. You didn't have to do this as well." 

Roman shrugs. "Well, I like taking care of you. In all ways." He squeezes firmly around the base of Virgil's cock, and drags his tightened hand upwards, as if milking the pre from Virgil's slit. "If this is making you feel good, then I want to help you feel great." 

Virgil presses the back of his hand to his mouth as he whimpers, rocking his hips into Roman's touch. Roman praises him under his breath, rubbing and pumping Virgil's length until every breath Virgil takes is an unexpected gasp or a shuddering inhale. 

And truly, Virgil does feel good. His wings are no longer stiff and uncomfortable. He no longer has to deal with itchy feathers poking into his skin that need to fall out and won't. 

Roman plucked away all his problems, and is now taking care of Virgil's final one as though it was no burden at all! 

"Roman," Virgil moans, and this time Virgil hears Roman moan back. A wordless, sheerly instinctual moan. And that's when Virgil realizes Roman's touching himself behind him. Briefly, Virgil wishes he was turned around to see, but he likes the comforting hold Roman has on him. The hand around his waist, reaching past his side to stroke him quick and lovingly. While Roman's other hand occasionally brushed Virgil's back, it was mostly used to touch his own cock, getting off alongside Virgil. 

"I'd brush your wings every day if you'd let me," Roman pants, even though they both know that'd be excessive. "I'd have you in this position, and I'd even get you off after if you so desired." 

Virgil's face is bright red. Sweat rolls down his cheeks. 

Roman leans closer to him, pressing his chest against Virgil's wings, making Virgil gasp. 

"Let me," Roman breathes, barely above a whisper. Virgil doesn't even know what he's asking, but answers anyway. 

"Please." 

Roman lets out a soft moan. "Virgil." 

"Please." 

Roman kisses Virgil's shoulder, up his neck, beneath his earlobe - anywhere Roman can kiss, he does, and with Roman's front against his back, lips against his neck, and hand around his cock, Virgil comes, a spluttering orgasm being milked out of him with loving ease. Perhaps having already came only aided Roman's pursuit, but Roman seems satisfied nonetheless. 

Roman touches Virgil through his orgasm, before pulling away to finish getting himself off, and coming much less ceremoniously over Virgil's back and the bedding. When Virgil huffs out a few bad words for Roman getting his shirt dirty, Roman just laughs and says Virgil should consider himself lucky it wasn't his jacket. 

"It did get on your wings a little, though," Roman mumbles, making Virgil flush and turn to glare at Roman over his shoulder. 

"Damnit, Roman," Virgil huffs, "now I'm going to have to struggle to wash that out." 

But Roman just smiles cheekily, and slides off his bed, pulling Virgil up as well. "Or," he starts, already bringing Virgil towards his bathroom, "we could shower together, and you could let me give your wings a proper washing. It'll be good for them, I swear! And I even have a shower brush to really help scrub the soap in!" 

Virgil knows what Roman is implying, and flushes dark, but rolls his eyes and sighs regardless. "Fine, whatever," he mumbles, but picks up his step a little, already moving to undress completely and let Roman tend to him further. 

[creaturefeaster]

hey!! Can you tell a little more about El Ganso??

So something he's known for throughout the story is that he's a frequent hired gun. Well, sometimes hired. Sometimes he ends up being so moved by a friend's misfortune that he takes it upon himself to hunt down their problems personally. And one of the most important things to El Ganso are his close friends. Close enough friends of his he considers family to heart, and because the physical world they live in now can be so dangerous, he will do anything to make keep said friends safe. He's extremely faithful to his family, and is willing to risk his life for them.

He's also easily motivated by emotion. Rather empathetic by nature, sometimes seeing even neutral acquaintances in distress can push him to exact revenge upon their enemies. He doesn't lust for death or brutality, but he hates the idea of innocent people suffering and will go to lengths to help.

Neither a protagonist or antagonist, he's on many different sides of the story depending on the circumstances at hand. He aids in TyV's revenge after he had lost an eye, against Leon. He defends Maggie no matter the cause because he feels like the world is always against her. He personally seeks out the thieves that steal Hannah's van, simply because her and her team's panicked state moved him enough to do so.

It's also just kind of easy to provoke him. For better or for worse. He's generally a calm and collected guy, but when challenged or aggressed, he fights back hard. He's got quick hands, barreled fingers with shots ready to fire at a moment's notice. He's not afraid to throw a punch either, and he's rather agile too. And once he's in a fight, it's hard to get him to stop. He'll only back down once hes won, if he feels truly beaten, or if his foe's emotional state is too much for him to bear.

When he's not being a brawling little hitman-goose though, he really likes traveling, dabbles in arts such as writing (he likes writing about his experiences a lot), painting (from reference most often), and trying out the fascinating musical instruments this world has to offer. Specifically he really likes hand drums. He's also rather social, though he likes to put up a front like he isn't, and loves exchanging stories with others.

A lot of the time when I draw him, you really only see his serious side when he's working/busy being a broody hitman. But he's kinda just an empathetic sweetheart deep down. Cares a lot and stuff.

When it comes to his friends, Maggie, TyV and Uppsulka are probably his closest ones, with other mimes like Caela, Ching, Chickenstab and Rede being some of his more casual friends. He also befriends some of the friendliest of the living like Tim and Rachel, and even Samantha to a degree-- a person most mimes absolutely despise by default. Her being upset and confused by her inherited problems of the future was easily enough to convince El Ganso that she doesn't deserve the flack she gets from all the other mimes.

He is often strongly opposed to the more needlessly hostile people in the story. He doesn't work well with Jarna or Holly, and while he still considers Rede a friend, it is a rocky relationship due to Rede's complete carelessness for other's suffering. El Ganso also greatly dislikes Debbie, Gary, and April and their problem causing attitudes.

A few other small, unrelated things about him... He's kind of an easy blusher. He's got bad volume control, either always a little too quiet or a little too loud, no real in between. He can spin his spurs like a saw, much like Caela and her skirt (and Caela's way into it!). In puppet, he can chew through extremely tough materials like wet paper. He is one of the few mimes who actually enjoys & indulges in sleeping. He likes giving gifts, is ecstatic when he learns what celebration cards are. Much like Holly & french, El Ganso will speak specifically spanish from time to time, despite the fact that all mimes can speak universally without a language barrier.

He is my silly goose.

[devilishdanse]

Polly want a cracker?

Unprompted / Always Accepting

Vassago's head tilts, feathers fluffing briefly before vivid gaze narrows behind yellow shades. He snaps a hand through the air with dismissive flair. "A cracker? ¡Qué maleducado! What a dry and boring snack to offer. Surely you can do better, no?"

[everlastingserenitys]

POSIONOUS LOVEE

summ. oh no! the flower must’ve been infused with something else! now you both had to deal with each other.

featuring (separate). zayne, caleb cw. sex pollen, p in v, creampie, very needy men, some grammatical issues, kissing, NOT BASED OFF THE TRAILER!!!!, fingering, rocking chair oral sex (zayne), oral (f receiving from zayne), cunnilingus, public sex (caleb), 2k wc a/n. don’t mind my horny ass writing these 2 I'm sorry for no xav, raf, and sylus (thats for another time hehe) also the flowers have no significant meaning to them…totally

ZAYNE - JASMINE ݁˖ ❀ ⋆

"does it smell good?" zayne whispered, dangling the jasmine between both of your faces, the petals tickling against your nose for the second time already. you took another whiff, taking in the scent like it was your first time smelling it.

well, thats what it felt like. because this jasmine didn't smell like any usual jasmine zayne would give you.

you nodded and tried to lean in for more, but zayne pulled the flower back, placing it against his nose. you watched as he took a deep breath, letting the sweet aroma rush through him.

and suddenly, in a quick second, his eyes twisted from that dull look to something brighter, a glint of something you just couldn't tell what it was.

you bob your legs up and down and watch zayne's every move, your heart starts to thump louder and louder, the air in the room suddenly feels suffocating, your body is burning up.

god, what was in that flower?

you eyes darted from zayne's shaky look, to the flower still dangling around his fingers. he was feeling the same way too, and now since you both were on the same boat, you had to fix each other somehow.

before you could say anything, zayne got up from his seat and stumbled towards you, caging you with his arms as he stared down at you with a lustful look.

"I dont know what was in that flower, I swore I bought it off a safe si-"

you couldn't handle his voice anymore. your fingers slid against the collar of his shirt and you pulled him close to you, just being mere inches away from each other, his hot breath tickled against your skin and you looked up at him one more time before crashing your lips on his.

"I don't know what it was either," you mumble between kisses, pulling away and catching your breath to look at zayne's hungry stare.

"but it feels so good."

that caused a reaction out of zayne, cause the next thing you knew, you were getting pressed down against the chair, hard. the back of your shirt raising up as zayne slightly lifted you up on the chair.

the impact of the rocking chair was sending you into a spiral. your head kept hitting the back as the chair shook faster and faster. zayne's body weight pressed against you, and the rough leather of the chair scratched your back, you were too much in a daze to even process that zayne's lips already found its way to your neck.

he planted rough, desperate kisses along your neck, lightly nibbling on the skin, his breath was getting ragged, more louder, all you could do was slide your fingers around his neck and pull him closer than you could.

his warm skin made contact with yours and zayne pulled his head back to look up at you, desperation filled his eyes. you trace his jaw and lower your finger further down, staggering it finger against his adams apple.

a shaky breath escaped his lips and zaynes fingers grabbed onto your waist, toying with the waistband of your pants which were already slipping off.

“i’d never let myself near these types of things…” he mumbled, staring at your bare legs on display for him.

“i didn’t think it’d feel like this.” he said in a shaky voice, eyes rolling back at the impact of the aroma still lingering through your bodies, you can’t help but tilt your head back, bucking your hips forward.

zayne inched closer, his nose just lingering on your twitchy clit through your panties, he nuzzled his head deeper between your thighs and glanced up at you before darting his tongue on the wet lace.

you hold back a moan and watched as he practically was sucking out every juice out of you. his fingers—that had been caressing your sides the whole time, slid under your panties and he swiftly removed them.

his hands cup your knees and he slowly spreads your legs apart, taking his time with you like the day would last forever.

“d-do you know how long it—ngh?!”

zaynes tongue made its way back to your leaking cunt, he shoved himself deeper inside you, curling his tongue inside you, trying to hit every right spot.

“hey!” you moan, instinctively thrusting your hips deeper against him, causing the rocking chair to do more than just one thrust.

“hmm?” a groggily hum escaped zaynes lips as he continued his work on you, the drug had completely changed him and you, and fuck it felt like too much.

“zayne ‘m gonna-”

your chants filled the room and zayne kept his grip on your thighs, purposely ignoring every plea that’s escaping your lips, continuing to work his tongue against your already sensitive folds.

you slid your fingers through his hair and gripped on it like there was no tomorrow, a shaky moan left zaynes lips and you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“ah- sorry!” you mumble, lifting his head up to watch for his reaction but his face was the exact same. flushed, and his eyes were still filled with that glint of desire.

“it’s not often i ask this but…”

“hm?”

he let out a sigh and slid his fingers further down your legs, “more? i need it.”

CALEB - BLUE LOTUS ݁˖ ❀ ⋆

“it’s not often we go flower picking, pips.” caleb said, his voice laced with enthusiasm as he walked through the grassy meadows, hands brushing along every long stem that poked out the grass.

“yeaaahh, we’re totally going to find flowers in an area like this..” you say in a low voice, looking at the scenery around you.

there was nothing but grass, maybe a few flowers here and there but it just felt so empty, too empty to even find a decent flower around.

“c’mon have some hope, will ya?” caleb chuckled, grabbing onto your wrist as he started to jog along the path.

“wh- caleb!” you giggle as your legs quicken at the pace he was going at, and too caleb was just aimlessly running along the field.

a few minutes passed and the two of you got tired, neither of you had an idea where you were but the sounds of birds chirping nearby, and the smell of water nearby made you get an idea.

“this way caleb,” you point to a hidden path, covered by the grass and caleb’s gaze follows the direction where your finger was pointed.

he nodded and dragged you through the path. eventually, after walking for a bit you ended up at a beautiful pond, birds flying everywhere and this, this was where you could find nice flowers.

“caleb the pond has pretty flowers!” you walk over to the glistening area of water and sit along the edges, toying with the grass sticking out the water.

“pretty, right?” he said, picking up a flower from the pond and swirling it around his fingers, a small smirk rested on his lips before he pressed the flower against your nose, sifting it left and right.

the petals tickled your nose, you leaned in closer taking a quick smell of it…and it smelt sweet.

too sweet.

in a quick second, your mood changed, it was like you needed more. you lunged at the flower again and took a deep breath, letting the sweet pheromones rush through your body again.

“pips..?” caleb asked, a hint of amusement and curiosity filled his voice, he pulled the flower away from you and rested it against his nose, taking in the smell of the intoxicating flower.

“smells good..” he mumbled, taking more of the scent as he stared into your dazed eyes. you nod and lean in closer, both your lips being centimeters away from each other, it’s just the flower that was in the way.

you look at the flower and back at caleb whose eyes are locked on you. you rested your fingers on his hand that was holding onto the flower and subtly grazed your fingers along his hand, and soon, pushed the flower away.

the second the flower fell on the ground, caleb grabbed onto your face with fierce force and crashed his lips on yours, his tongue darting at the small open space between your lips.

he was devouring you.

devouring you like a fucking animal.

you didn’t realize that you both were on the ground, caleb’s hand rested on the back of your head as he continued pressing himself against you.

“what is this pipsqueak?” he mumbled, sliding his free hand along the curves of your body, soon making its way to the waistband of your pants, lightly tugging at it.

you let out a low hum and grab the flower, twirling it between your fingers as you stared at caleb who was already removing your pants, he was practically ripping them off like it was something he strived for survival.

once your lower half was exposed to Caleb, he slid a finger against your twitchy clit, rubbing and pressing on it, a wave of pleasure washed through you as you slightly lifted your hips, silently begging for more.

whatever it was doing this to you, felt too good, way too good. his fingers felt like it was the first time he's doing this to you. after a bit, Caleb pulled his fingers out, watching the mess drip down on the grass and on his fingers.

he lifted your legs above his shoulders and pressed himself against you. the rough fabric of his pants made contact with your exposed, leaking pussy and a spark of shock went through you.

Caleb continued to dry hump himself against you, to get the tension up but his hands were rejecting him to stay put, he slid a hand off your ankles and placed them on his belt, removing his pants in a quick movement.

"it feels good pipsqueak..." he mumbled, pulling out his cock and pressing his leaking tip against your stretched out cunt. you whine in response and Caleb pushed himself deep inside you without warning you.

"so good, it feels–ngh so, soo good"

whines and moans echoed through the secluded forest, there was no audience around but it felt like anyone could walk in by now. you nod repeatedly thrusting yourself deeper inside him, not caring that you're outside, the butterflies in your stomach started to beat faster and faster.

"gonna come..." Caleb groaned, grabbing onto your ankles tighter, as he thrusted himself deeper. the feeling of you getting filled up by him felt too good, he continued to fuck in your leaking pussy, drooling with his cum which was seeping out of you each thrust he gave.

Caleb grabbed onto the flower which was resting on your chest and gave it a quick smell, again. he then took his other hand off your leg and plucked each petal one by one, scattering it all over your body.

"im close ca-" before you could finish your sentence you felt his soft lips make contact with yours, except something was in the way. you winked open an eye and noticed the plucked out flower resting between the two of your lips.

"let it out..." he whispered between kisses, wrapping his hands around your neck as he pulled you closer than ever, letting you savour every second of this unexpected desire.

a/n. so sorry you could tell who the favorite was, I will practice on my zayne smut later

[bnpd]

❛❛ NERD-JO .ᐟ >ᴗ< ❜❜ :

SYNOPSIS: you're a new transfer at a big prestigious private university. what happens when the first friend you make is a cute nerd? will you get your chance to start fresh? or will your newfound 'friendship' bring you unwanted drama in the future.

DRABBLE WRD COUNT: 2.6K pairings: rich nerd!deans nephew gojo x reader tags: cute nerd gojo, reader is kind of mysterious, gojo makes me chuckle here. NOT PROOFREAD (sorry) ill come back and remove some grammatical errors. this might be cheeks fr

NOTEᝰ.ᐟ : im late to the nerd gojo party </3 but please enjoy! please do not steal my little nerdjo pngs just because they have my 'bnpd' if you want the individual png pls just shoot me a text :) lmk if there are any issues, so i can fix them !!

a tall man sits in the far back of the lecture hall. figure hunched over the desk as he scribbles away intensely in his journal. 30 minutes earlier than the usual start of the lecture. 

the glasses that sit delicately on his nose bridge slide down every once in a while. his white ruffled hair stays still as he shuffles in his seat to adjust his posture. 

many are intimidated by his silent and blank stare. everyone but students in his science club feel that way. he’s quite the chatterbox contrary to popular belief. ask him about his favorite physics theories and he’s chatting your ear off.

he doesn’t go to parties, but invite him to a museum or a bookstore? he’s already in the car.

he’s quite polished. gojo can be one of those pretentious nerds, but he doesn’t mean to! he has lived a privileged life and acts like any other rich college student would. 

comes from a wealthy family and doesn't hide it, but he also doesn't run around telling everyone.

it might seem like he dresses like a regular guy but his clothes are still expensive. you'll occasionally find him wearing a sweater vest and button up tucked into his well-tailored pants altered to fit his long legs on formal days when he has a research symposium presentation or a meeting with the steam department about improving certain aspects he finds are not up to his standards.

most of the time, he’ll wear comfortable clothes. wears glasses, cliche, but he wears them more out of practical appeal and necessity. 

his eyes are sensitive due to a medical condition he has. so, the glasses he wears are tailored to prevent his eyes from straining. his parents urge him to wear the endless supply of contacts he has but he’s quite comfortable with his glasses. 

every pair of glasses he owns has his initials engraved on the temples, whether it’s gold or silver. whatever matches the aesthetic of the pair of glasses.

when he was younger. his parents would fund his personal ‘academic’ projects. he’d be busy every summer at a science or math camp. if they sent him to a summer camp that wasn't academically related; at camp you’d find him reading far away from everyone else. whether in front of a lake or a quiet little place in the woods. 

now? he’s still the same. just bigger. doesn’t go to summer camp but definitely stacks up his summer with internships or side projects. on top of that, he’ll spend time volunteering at local schools, teaching students in high school or middle school.

very good with kids, and more patient with them than he would be with his uni study partners. 

donates whatever money he earns at internships to local communities to aid students in pursuing their education. he strongly believes that if he can pursue education freely, so should everyone else.

his timer goes off quietly and he stops scribbling down his memorized equations. he huffs out a breath of relief yet frustration. 

 i’m still missing one… he thinks to himself. if anyone with an outside perspective were to see him they’d imagine gears turning inside of his head.

he flips the page, resets his timer, and starts again.

time passes and he realizes class has now begun. he was so caught up studying, he failed to realize that the class is now packed with other students. a few scattered seats remain vacant. 

the professor enters the class and silently unpacks her bag before greeting the class and breaking the silence, “let’s have a great semester.” she wastes no time diving into the lecture. 

gojo, contrary to popular belief, sits in the middle section of the lecture hall. he’s not fond of the back because for starters, he’s easily distracted and he can’t hear from all the way back there. the middle is just right.

he’s kind of a loner, by choice. he's just always being productive on campus.

you’ll often see him sitting alone, busying himself with his studies unless he has a meeting with his club about an upcoming math or science competition. if it’s not the season of academic olympiads, he’s alone. 

he only has two close friends: geto and shoko. geto majors in psychology. shoko is, of course, pursuing her dream of being a doctor. she’s a biology major undergoing the pre-med track. 

gojo has yet to have a girlfriend in college.

not because he can’t find someone interested in him, absolutely not. he’s handsome, intelligent, quiet, kind, and rich. he's the most sought after bachelor on campus. with his brains and looks, he's every girls wet dream.

unfortunately for him, women are always hitting on him but quite frankly, he’s not interested. or sometimes he doesn’t catch on to the fact that a woman is subtly flirting with him. 

not because he’s dense, but how would he find something he’s not even looking for?

like right now, when you gently plop down on the seat next to him. you’re quite fond of sitting in the front but the lecture hall was overwhelmingly full. there were other open seats but he looked to be the most productive and you needed that.

you were a transfer. which is odd to be one this late into college, given that you’re a senior trying to complete your last year. 

the university is a pretty big private school so no one notices new transfers nor do they care. but within them, are those who do. 

like gojo. 

he doesn’t realize you’ve sat next to him until the end of the lecture. given that he was too busy scribbling away in his journal. 

one thing about gojo is that he likes to leave when everyone is already gone and the professor is free to approach. he’s a tiny bit surprised to see it seems you think the same. but for reasons he’s not aware of, you’re there for a reason other than academics. 

he silently observes you as you approach the professor. his eyebrows raise a bit when you share a hug and it has him adjusting his glasses to make sure he’s seeing things correctly. 

interesting

you continue to sit next to him in the following weeks, seeing him twice a week on tuesdays and thursdays. you began to find yourself looking forward to it. you get to sit next to a tall dorky handsome stranger? you’ll be getting perfect attendance. 

you rarely catch a glance of him outside of class, but every time you do he is so focused. 

the more you studied him while he studied something else, the more you realized how attractive he was. even if you knew that prior to your silent observations.

from the outfits you could tell he spent some time on in the morning—you assumed he woke up earlier than everyone else, to the way his obsession with organization—you took note of when he set his things down for class and neatly organized his pens, pencils and journal for notes.  

don’t be mistaken though. one tiny peek at his journal was enough to see that despite his need to tidy things on the outside…his notes were written haphazardly and quick. notes are a reflection of your mind, and if you’re constantly thinking then your notes will be a reflection of that.

you had also come to the conclusion that he was a man that was yet to become aware of his height. he moved around like he didn’t know how much of a walking tank he was. you hoped he never found out.

the best thing about him wasn’t any of the things you listed, but it was a few of the habits he had. 

everything he owned was personalized. from the pencils he used, to his backpack. you made that discovery when you forgot your pencil pouch in the library.

it took you a total of 2 minutes to gather the courage to turn to the mysterious man beside you, and ask him for a pencil. 

“excuse me,” you said gently, “im sorry, but can i bother you for a pencil? im so sorry.” 

he stared at you and you thought he would explode you with his bright blue snow glazed eyes. 

he cracked a tiny toothless smile and you figuratively crossed your fingers, hoping he wasn’t silently judging you or worse—came to the conclusion that were unprepared and incompetent. 

you watched him intently as he reached to grab his backpack, taking in the way the black expensive leather had his initials engraved in the bottom corner. he reached his hand into his backpack and pulled out–what looked to be the most elegant, technologically advanced sleek black mechanical pencil.

“don’t worry about giving it back,” he says politely but then he goes for the blow “i know you might need it in the future.” with a hint of pretentiousness. oh!

“well… thank you,” you say a bit taken back as you reluctantly take the pencil from his extended hand. your face falls a little at his response and you deflate a little in your chair.

did he think you were…poor? god forbid a girl asks for a pencil. you’d, unfortunately, been perceived. and in the worst way possible. he probably thinks you’re irresponsible, and an idiot!

you look at the pencil and realize that–of course–he has his initials engraved in his mechanical pencils too. 

g.s.

you bite back a smile that might give away how endearing you found it. that is so cute.

he has his initials on almost everything. you try not to crack a smile at how adorable yet endearing that is. 

unfortunately, you couldn’t really put the pencil to good use because he kept fidgeting in his seat the entire class. it distracted and worried you at the same time. which was odd because he never did that. 

is he upset that he had to give you one of his spare pencils? will he ask for it back? 

as you were packing your bags to leave, you felt him heavily staring at you. it makes you pause your movement and then turn to him, and sure enough, he was looking at you. you a tiny sigh leaves your lips. 

“yes? is this about your pencil? because i have my own i just needed–”

“im sorry.” he interrupts you and it shuts you up immediately. 

what?

he might have seen the confusion in your eyes. “about what i said about the pencil, i didn’t mean for it to come off that way. i was just saying because i have a lot of them so it wouldn’t have made a difference. and i was guessing maybe you didn’t. wait–no. i meant like if you didn’t–.not that i think you can’t get your own pencils or anything like that because i am super sure you can. but if you need it you can keep it. not that you need it right? because everyone needs a pencil. like one time i–”

you stare at him as he rambles on. you’re completely endeared with the way he doesn’t look you in the eyes and the way his hands move around to prove his point. 

he huffs out a breath of frustration. you on the other hand huff out a breath of amusement and the stranger before you finally moves to look at you.

“it’s okay.” you dismiss his worries, standing their idly as you mirror his movements. 

“i just thought i might have inconvenienced you by asking,” you tell him honestly, you grab your computer and gently store it away in your backpack as you continue your conversation, “im usually prepared, but i accidentally left my pencil bag in the library this morning.”

he gives you a tiny affirmative nod, taking in your words. he swings his backpack over his shoulder, and loops both arms into their respective loops, wearing the backpack on both shoulders. 

cute.

there's an awkward silence that follows you both before the door slams shut and you realize then that the professor has now walked out. 

the stranger huffs out a small awkward laugh, “you didn’t–by the way,” he speaks then, “inconvenience me, I mean”, he clarifies. now it’s your turn to nod at him. 

this is so awkward, it almost makes you laugh. 

he breaks the silence again, “im satoru gojo, by the way.” he politely introduces himself by extending his hand in a respectful manner.

you extend yours in return, shaking his hand before sharing your name with him as well. 

“i have time to kill,” he offers, “why don’t we take a walk around campus before then? the weather is great.”

after your shared walk with gojo you learned a lot about him. 

he recently discovered his interest in kpop after his friend, shoko, played a song during a shared car ride. 

he’s a senior, like you, studying engineering and double minoring in business and mathematics. he originally wanted to minor in physics but he said his father urged him to do business instead. he had to compromise.

that doesn’t stop him from taking physics courses out of pure enjoyment though, exceeding the 18 credit limit. 

he’s also an on-campus tutor and does a work study job at the library. the old librarian on campus loves him and appreciates his extensive knowledge on literature and figured that if he spent all his time there already, might as well let him get paid for him. 

when she approached him, his ears turned a light shade of pink and you could just imagine gojo pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose before they slipped as he hurried to apologize. 

she waved him off and urged him to just work there already. gojo then started working with them a week later after financial aid finalized the paperwork. he remembers the look of the financial aid lady when she looked at his file and saw that he was beyond in need of financial aid. 

all she did was raise and eyebrow but clicked away. thankfully, gojo managed to get the work-study payments signed off as a form of volunteering hours rather than an extra below minimum wage salary.

he didn’t share with you the last part about his tiny altercation with financial aid though. he assumed you had no idea who he was. and you hoped to keep it that way. 

you in turn shared with him that you were transferred from another school. he already knew that (he paid a visit to the dean but he’ll never tell you that, given that the dean is his uncle afterall) he didn't know why. so, he asked.

“i transferred because there were some personal issues there and now i just want to start fresh.”

gojo raises a questioning eyebrow, but decides to respect your privacy. he hopes one day you’ll trust him enough to tell him. 

the rest of the chat was quite delightful. you were about to invite him to the cute nearby cafe you saw on your way to school, but before you could muster up the courage. 

a chime was heard from gojos pants pocket. he excused himself to check his phone. you stood there idly as he let out a tiny groan of frustration. 

“im sorry–” he apologized again. the look of pure regret made your lip quirk up again. he was so cute and polite.

“i hate to cut our…trip—short but it kind of slipped my mind that i scheduled a study group with a class i T.A. for.”

you wave him off, “it’s okay!” you reassure him with an upbeat tone in your voice, “we share a class so i’ll see you around.”

he bids you a quick goodbye and you watch his retreating figure. you sigh and head to the opposite direction. 

this semester will be exciting. 

feel more than welcome to submit a request <3 . join my tag list : ⟢ join my girlypop disc: link ‹𝟹

TAGLIST : @luvwithau : @sugacor3 : @bloopsstuff : @fushitoru : @serenityfauna : @luna-v-roiya : @rjswrld : @fartm : @bammbi-jeon127 : @gojoslefttoenail : @laviefantasie : @red-viewe : @danakul : @xchannelorange : @honoredalone : @plutosgold : @jotarohat : @shadowytiger : @um-no-ok : @lavender-hvze : @nvmlolo : @rintcrous : @jaelahh-blog-blog : @fuckerenyaeger : @bigbodiezz : @simp-plague : @lialia3945 : @gojostit : @fangirlingoverfanfic : @deluluforcarlos55 : @manyno :

omg! i didn't realize how many people signed up for my taglist <33 tysm ! currently working on a masterlist too. long shot gojo. i have not forgotten you.

©2025 bnpd. All rights reserved to the copyrights owner. Do not share, plagiarize, or translate.

[kookiestiddies]

1 | first sightings

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x female reader

Genre: Enemies With Potential | Fluff, Angst & Smut

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: swearing, mild injury, reader is grumpy, mentions of flashing (???), attempted humour, if you see any typos and grammatical errors no u didn’t

A/N: there'll be no fixed schedule for this bcs I have commitment issues rip so good luck to ya'll honestly. happy reading! feel free to lmk your thots :8) 👍🏼

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

3 years ago...

Fuck my life! 

That’s what you think to yourself as you try to catch your breath; an impossible feat considering the fact that you’re lugging along 3 monstrous and overpriced textbooks. And not to mention the fact that you’re racing across campus because it’s only the first day of your college career and you happened to be late.

Sure, maybe it could be considered your fault because you hit the snooze button too many times over the course of an hour before your class actually started. Maybe you only further sealed your fate by taking too long in the shower. However, in your defence, it should be decreed a social injustice for classes starting earlier than 11 am to be acceptable. Rest and hygiene come first about all else, yup yup. 

You were so focused on reaching your destination that you missed to sound of the bell ringing overhead the campus coffee shop entrance on your side, signalling someone’s rushed exit.

So imagine your surprise when you find that your race to the class that’s 2 minutes away from starting is brought to a halt when you’re suddenly sent flying perpendicular to the direction you were going in by an unseen force only to land harshly on the lawn in front of the coffee shop. 

You see it all happening in slow motion: you’re rapidly reaching the ground but not before you jut out your arms to hopefully prevent your face from getting too intimate with the muddy ground. Your ultra-premium textbooks leave your grasp to land in- 

Oh NO! 

A puddle.

While you sit there in shock, barely processing what just happened, you hear someone swearing nearby from the direction of the coffee shop. You look up towards it to find a pair of doe eyes looking back at you. The owner of said doe eyes is crouching ahead of you; a boy.

Before you can take a good look and process him, he’s already up on his feet and quickly picks up a bag scattered haphazardly next to him. You snap out of trance and call out to him as he makes a move towards the main campus buildings. 

“HEY!”

He hesitantly stops and looks around at you. “What?!” 

What’s with his tone?! 

“What do you meant, What?! You knocked me down! My textbooks are ruined!” you say as you get up haggardly, brushing off the mud on your elbows.

“I’m sorry, but I’m already late for my class, I’ve got to go,” he replies quickly and starts scurrying away. 

“WHAT?!” you yell to his retreating back to no avail. Oh, now you’re mad. 

The boy’s hurriedly retreating figure comes to a sudden halt and turns around, speeding towards you with his hands in his pocket. 

That’s more like it. Get your ass over here and apolog-

“I’m sorry about your textbooks, hope this covers it!” he rushes out and shoves a wad of cash in your hands. He doesn’t wait for your response before he darts back towards the campus building. 

You’re too stunned. You are simply. Too. Stunned.

An angry pout forms on your face as you mull things over and count the cash that he generously thrusted to you. A whole 50 bucks. The sheer audacity of that stupid boy. 

What the heck were you supposed to do with 50 bucks?! Each textbook cost atleast 90 bucks!

You pick up your bag and your now wet, smudged and ruined mammoth of a textbook set with a groan and angrily huff your way towards class, which you are now officially late for.

Imagine meticulously planning out your first day at college from hour-to-hour, only to end up becoming the loser that shows up to class late with a set of muddy textbooks, ruined hair and shockingly dirty clothes.

Operation Have A Positively Impressionable First Day of College: FAILED.

You would continue your run to class if it weren’t for the fact that your knee was sore as a result of you getting to 2nd base with the grass which led to you limping the rest of the way. 

Maybe people are kind, maybe it was the fact that your anger and annoyance were monstrously visible to anyone passing by, but thank fuck, everyone moved away from you as you stormed your way to class. Thanks to your encounter with that fuckhead of a boy earlier, your mood is now at its lowest setting and you simply cannot tolerate anyone else for the rest of the day probably. You curse him under your breath the whole way.

It can’t possibly get any worse, right? Wrong.

When you finally make it to class, you were 4 minutes late and three significant things happened one after the other:

#1 You had to face the embarrassment of 200 pairs of eyes, plus the lecturer’s, witnessing your walk of shame as you cautiously entered the class like a gazelle amongst a pack of lions. 

2# All the seats towards the front were taken up so you had no choice but to find an empty seat towards the back of the class. 

3# By your luck, you realised too late that you were seated right in front of an annoyingly familiar face.

He tried to hide from you. 

You know this because he looked at you straight in the eyes, visibly panicked and lied his head on the table with his hoodie and arms shielding him, pretending to be asleep. 

Tch, pathetic!

Thankfully, the rest of the class went by as smoothly as can be, though you did feel the heat of someone staring at you at the back of your neck. You tried your best to ignore it by forcing all your attention toward the lecture. 

When the end of the class came around, you were quick to exit the class. 

Frankly speaking, you’ve had enough of today.

As you turn down the hallway, you bump into Nayeon, a friend you’d made during the freshmen orientation. 

While you were still deciding on whether you should project a more introverted or extroverted personality onto all the new people you’d be meeting in college, Nayeon made the choice for you by taking up your neighbouring seat and starting a conversation with you about the shitty AC in the hall. In less than an hour, you’d already gotten to know all about her eight exes and how two of them almost gave her STDs and one of them almost gave her a whole baby. You were still contemplating which one would have been worse.

“Y/n! Oh, thank god you’re here! Y/nieee, today has been such a nuisance and it’s barely 12 pm!” she cries while sliding her arm in yours as you both start walking in sync towards the college cafeteria.

Hah! 

“You know, Mercury must be in retrograde or something because my day has been awful so far as well,” you say with a downward tilt of your mouth. 

“Oh? Does that have anything to do with your whole ‘I’m 27 years old with no prospects’ cosplay thing you’ve got going on? Lovin’ the limp by the way. It really adds to the whole vibe” she retorts with a cackle. You can’t help but giggle along with her until you remember the reason for your haggard get up.

You haughtily recount your morning’s incident to her and heave up your textbooks, now reduced to a damp and muddy stack of papers.

“Ew, what was his problem?!” she asks and you giggle at her disgusted look. You’re both quiet as you reach the cafeteria and get some food on trays. “C’mon, the gang’s over there,” Nayeon says as she leads you to a table that seats her friends whom you had also briefly met during orientation. 

You take your seat and set your food on the table along with your ruined textbooks. Hoseok peeks a curious look at them, you notice, but he doesn’t say anything. But his curiosity is abundantly loud, so you answer it for him anyway.

“Some turdball knocked me over this morning on my way to class and they dropped right into a puddle,” you say with a pout. 

“Oh? Does that also explain the Mother Nature cosplay you’ve got going on right now?” he replies with a cheeky grin and reaches out to you to pluck out a piece of grass that you hadn’t realised was in your hair

Geez, this is so embarrassing.

“Uh-huh, totally. It’s avant-garde baby.” you retort which sends the table in a fit of giggles, including Hoseok, whose laughter rings louder than the rest. 

“Also, what’s up with you guys and cosplays? Nayeon made a comment earlier too,” you bring up. Somehow, it causes Jimin to spiral into a choking fit and the rest of the group starts knowingly laughing. 

“Oh, you’re gonna LOVE this!” Chae bellows towards you. 

She’s interrupted by Jimin who whines “Chae, for the love of God, can you please shut up about that? It’s literally not even funny anymore!” 

“Oh yes it fucking is! Go on,” Nayeon urges Chae on.

“It’s an inside joke right. When we were in high school, he took part in a random Joker & Harley Quinn cosplay competition with one of our other friends. This idiot here was Harley and he flashed the whole audience with his ass hanging out from under his skirt the whole time!” 

The whole table hollers with laughter, except for a violently blushing Jimin. In between your giggles, you ask Jimin “Did you guys win though?” The table erupts in another round of laughter as Jimin mutter an angry “No.”

“Oh my god, there’s even a video! Nayeon, where’s that video Jungkook took?” Hoseok yells. 

“STOP!” Jimin yells but it’s too late. 

In lighting speed, Nayeon whips out her phone and shows you what truly is Jimin’s ass hanging out from under a skirt as he prances about the stage in true Harley Quinn fashion. There’s another handsome boy next to him dressed in a Joker costume. “That’s our friend, Taehyung, by the way,” Chae adds. 

“Jesus fuck, do you have that video on standby or something? You pulled it out so fast,” Jimin whines at Nayeon. “I have it saved as my live wallpaper babe,” Nayeon replies and sends a flying kiss towards Jimin which earns her a swear thrown at her face in return.

“Hey, where’s Jungkook? His class should have ended by now, right?” Hoseok asks Chae.  

“Hmm yeah, he was in the same class as Y/n actually. Did you see him?” Chae turns to you. Your attention is still focused on the phone in Nayeon’s hand as you reply, “Sorry, I was a little preoccupied to notice. Besides-,” you lift your head to look at her.

“-I don’t even know what he looks like,” you say with a smile.

“Look out for someone who looks like me, duh. I may be cooler than him, but we’re still twins,” Chae teases.

“Well, speak of the devil, here he comes,” Hoseok says and shifts his attention to look over your shoulder. 

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late. I had to sort something out with my lecturer,” an eerily familiar voice says behind you. 

No. 

Fucking. 

Way. 

You don’t want to turn around.

“We gotta head out soon for the . By the way, say hi to Y/n, she’s watching your video of Tae and Jimin at the comic fest,” Hoseok says with a bright smile. 

“Huh? Hmm, kinda weird that you came over just to watch Jimin hyung’s ass reshaping the world’s seat,” the new guy acknowledges you and you feel him approaching from behind. 

“You’re all horrible,” Jimin says.

The table erupts in a fit of giggles and you suddenly feel a warm hand on your shoulder. 

Fuck.

You have to turn around now. 

You’re turning around.

“Hi, I’m Jung-” he stops halfway and his eyes widen as he realises who you are. 

You fake a wide smile and say “Hi Jungkook. I think we’ve met before,” you say harshly and look at him straight in the eyes. You’re pouring every bit of spite you have crawling around your body into this look. And it seems to pay off with how Jungkook gulps loudly and looks at you with doe eyes.

The whole table has turned to witness your interaction now.

“Oh, so you have? Small world huh,” Chae chirps.

What a small world indeed.

Your moments away from blowing a fuse and cussing him out in front of your friends who are watching your interaction, when the unthinkable happens, too fast to be stopped.

Jungkook immediately gets down on his knees in front of you, brings his palms together and shrieks out, “I’M SORRY!”

(∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

[waayoutofline]

Like Seeing A Ghost.

Marvel Masterlist

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Prompt: Married life and family core.

Summary: Your teenage daughter changed styles, and you cant help but be remained of a certain someone.

Warnings: None. Just love and fluff.

WORD COUNT: 1489

AN: I wrote this under the wonderful influence of sleep depravation. I just corrected it grammatically. It’s the first time I have written a family related prompt, so sorry but it’ll probably be a bit cringey :´). YDN stands for: Your daughters name btw—

It was a quiet day in the Maximoff household, a rare sense of calm settling over the space. Humming softly, you switched off the vacuum and put it away, satisfied with the tidiness of the room. The peaceful silence was soon interrupted by the doorbell, drawing your attention with mild curiosity. “I’ve got it!” you called, making your way to the door. You didn’t need to check the peephole, you already knew who it was. “Darling, finally! Your mother is almost finished with—oh dear gods.”

You froze as your 16-year-old daughter stepped inside. Taking in her appearance, your eyes widened in surprise. She shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, clearly bracing herself for the reaction that didn’t come as quickly as she expected.

Gone were her typical morning clothes, replaced by a more alternative look. She wore an oversized black t-shirt featuring an old rock band, her arms covered in fishnet sleeves, fingers adorned with silver rings and chains. Her makeup, though still a work-in-progress, was heavy with black eyeliner and smudged dark red eyeshadow. A silver cross dangled from her freshly pierced ear. She completed the outfit with a mid-length skirt and red Converse sneakers. If it weren’t for her eyes—the same color as yours—you might not have recognized her at first. But even then, the look wasn’t unfamiliar. She resembled someone else you knew all too well.

“It’s… it’s—” you began, voice faltering. Your daughter braced herself even more, her posture defiant, though you could see flickers of uncertainty in her expression. That defiant stance finally broke your composure.

“It’s like seeing a ghost! Oh, my beautiful girl,” you exclaimed, bursting into delighted laughter. “It’s like going back in time. Wanda come here please!” you called out, grinning at the uncanny resemblance.

Your heart swelled with nostalgia and amusement. You never thought you’d see such a familiar look on your own child, yet here she was, carrying a piece of the past into the present.

“What is it, love? Is it Y/D/N? I made her favorite,” Wanda called, wiping her hands with a kitchen towel before stopping abruptly. “Oh wow. This is… definitely a surprise.”

Your daughter, tired of the mixed reactions from both of you, crossed her arms defensively. “Before you say anything—no, I didn’t get any piercings or tattoos. But this is how I want to dress from now on. And if you have any issues with it, then…”

Your eyes softened at the sight of her defiance fading into vulnerability. You glanced at Wanda, who nodded. “Honey, you don’t owe us any explanations,” she said gently.

“I… don’t?” Y/D/N repeated, tentatively. You took a step forward, resting a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Of course not. You know your mom and I want you to discover who you are. All we care about is that you don’t hurt yourself in the process. Why would you think we’d be upset?”

Your daughter’s shoulders relaxed as the tension eased. “A… friend of mine dresses like this, and her parents didn’t take it well. They told her if she didn’t dress ‘normal,’ they’d send her to some creepy summer camp.”

Wanda frowned. “Well, they’re idiots.” Your daughter smiled at that. “They are! Like your mom said, we’ll never judge you for who you are. All we want is for you to be safe and happy.”

With that, she smiled and pulled you both into a hug. “Thanks for being such cool parents.” You exchanged a glance with Wanda and hugged her back.

“I mean… if we weren’t, we’d be total hypocrites.” Your daughter tilted her head in curiosity, prompting a laugh from you as you moved toward the living room.

Wanda scoffed. “Oh, don’t you dare, Y/N,” she warned playfully, following close behind, already anticipating your next move. Before she could stop you, you pulled out the family photo album. Your daughter plopped down next to you on the couch, while Wanda took her place on the armrest, wearing a mock pout.

Flipping through the pages, you found what you were looking for. “Why haven’t I seen this before?” Y/D/N asked, eyes wide with interest.

“These are from years before you were born,” you explained softly, turning the album’s pages with care. “Most were taken when your mother and I first met. We kept them hidden… because she was a little shy about them.”

Wanda playfully nudged your arm, her smile a little bashful. “Do you really have to show them? I’d like for our daughter to still respect me, you know.”

You grinned, glancing at your daughter. “Of course, I do! I mean, just look at her. You two are practically twins—it’s adorable.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, though her blush deepened. “You’re having too much fun with this.”

As you flipped another page, your daughter gasped, eyes widening in disbelief. Wanda’s face turned a deep shade of red as she quickly covered her face with her hands, her embarrassment palpable. You, however, couldn’t stop the grin spreading across your face. “Mom, why didn’t you tell me you were so cool?” Y/D/N exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over as she snatched the album from you, flipping through the pictures like a child on Christmas morning.

“What do you mean “were”?” Wanda huffed in mock offense. “I’m still cool!”

A brief silence followed, punctuated only by Wanda’s playful exasperation. You reached out, squeezing her hand, the warmth of her skin grounding both of you. The resemblance between mother and daughter was striking, as if time had folded in on itself. “That picture,” you said, pointing to a particular one, “was taken around the time I first met your mom. She was this emo, tough, and incredibly intimidating girl—” You started dramatically, glancing at Wanda, who shot you a half-hearted glare.

“Okay, okay, no need to humiliate me further,” Wanda cut in, trying to maintain some shred of dignity.

“Humiliate?” You softened your voice, your eyes meeting hers. “That was the version of you I fell in love with.” You turned another page, your tone warm and nostalgic. “I mean, the whole ‘bad girl’ thing really worked for me.”

“Mom, gross!” Y/D/N laughed, wrinkling her nose in mock disgust.

You nudged her playfully. “Oh, hush. What I’m trying to say is… I fell in love with that Wanda, and every version after her.”

With each page you turned, years passed in the photographs. Different styles, changing haircuts, moments of growth captured in still images. But one thing remained constant—your love.

“…and the next,” you continued quietly. “Because that’s what love is. It’s not about how someone dresses or looks. It’s about loving them for who they are, through every version, and with how they express themselves to the world.”

You closed the album gently and reached for your daughter’s hands, holding them tenderly. “That’s why no matter how you choose to present yourself, it will never change how we feel about you. You are our daughter, and we will always love you—no matter what.” Y/D/N smiled, her eyes bright with relief and understanding. Wanda, still blushing from your words, looked at both of you with so much love that it was almost overwhelming. A sudden thought crossed her mind, her lips curving into a small, playful smile.

“You know,” Wanda began, her voice light, “if you’re interested, I still have some of those clothes.”

Your daughter’s eyes lit up. “No way.”

“Oh yes, way. Why don’t you start by heading up to the attic? I’ll join you in a sec.”

In an instant, your daughter gave Wanda a quick, excited hug before practically running towards the stairs. You and Wanda exchanged a glance, bursting into quiet laughter. As you stood up, Wanda caught you by the waist, pulling you close, her eyes filled with nothing but love. For a moment, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you. She leaned in and kissed you, slow and tender.

“Mama! Do you still have that red jacket?” your daughter called from upstairs, breaking the moment. Wanda sighed, chuckling under her breath as she pulled away.

“I do!” Wanda called back, her voice filled with affection. “In fact, that jacket I stole from Auntie Nat!”

Another excited shriek echoed down the stairs, and you both shared a fond look.

“I better go before she tears down the attic,” Wanda said with a small smile, taking a step back.

You nodded, watching her as she began to leave, but she paused at the doorway and turned back, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

“Hey,” she whispered, “I am cool, right?”

A full, hearty laugh escaped you, the sound filling the room with warmth. “Yeah, Wanda. You’re the coolest.”

Wanda grinned, the playful tension melting away as she disappeared up the stairs, leaving you with a heart full of love and a smile that lingered long after she was gone.

[judesmoonbeauty]

Ikemen Villains II Anniversary SE: "Once More, An Evil from Which You Can't Return" - Prologue ᯽

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

In the silent, deep darkness, I was wandering around searching for someone.

When I grew tired from walking, I looked down….That’s when someone’s shadow crossed the edge of my vision.

Kate: Wait -!

I call out someone’s name and reach towards the shadow….

The shadow I grabbed quickly crumbled and disappeared.

Kate: …[Gasp.]

I jumped out of bed in my room, drenched in sweat.

(I feel like I just had a terribly sad dream…..)

(A dream….Where I lose something important.)

I also have a dull headache, so this is the worst wake up ever.

(Is it evening now….Why am I in bed at this time?)

As I tilted my head, there was a knock on the door.

Kate: Come in.

As soon as I replied, one by one all the Crown members enter the room.

Liam: Kate! I’m….so happy you’re awake!

Kate: Oh….Yeah, I think I was taking a nap.

Harrison: A nap….You don’t remember anything?

Ellis: Kate, you were found unconcious at the bottom of the stairs.

Kate: I was……?

Roger: Your heart rate and respiration were normal, so we decided to let you rest in your room and observe your condition…..

Kate: I-I see. I’m so sorry…I don’t even remember falling down.

Roger: ….Your memory seems fuzzy. Can you answer some questions now?

Kate: Yes, please do!

Then Roger asked me about today’s date, the recent missions I’d been on, and what I had for yesterday’s lunch.

Even though I believed that I answered everything correctly, the expressions on their faces around me, gradually grew grimmer.

Kate: Um….Did I say something wrong?

Roger: Lil’ lady seems to have retrograde amnesia - put simply - memory loss.

Kate: Memory loss….?

Elbert: You said that you came to Crown a week ago and met Vogel yesterday…..

Elbert: …..It’s already been several days since you’ve met Vogel.

Alfons: It’s as if we’ve rewound to when Kate first met us.

Kate: Th-That can’t be….

Jude: ….Whatta hassle. Her memories gonna stay like that forever?

Roger: There’s a lot we don’t know about the human memory.

Roger: There’s a chance she’ll remember something, but….I can’t say for sure.

Roger: Either way….It’s best not to worry about it too much, and just rest.

Kate: ……Okay.

(….I wonder how I have been interacting with the Crown members?)

(We must have a good relationship because they all gathered in my room out of concern…..)

I felt guilty and anxious that I was the only one who didn’t remember….and I unconsciously bit my lip.

Victor: - Kate.

Victor: Even though you’ve lost your memory, we remember what you’ve given us.

Victor: So….Our bond will never fade away.

William: ….It’s just as Victor says.

William: If you’ve lost it, it can be rewoven. Yes?

Kate: Y-Yes…..Thank you.

Afterwards, Victor and I discussed future plans and decided that I would take some time off missions to rest.

The fact that I had lost part of my memory was shared with the three Vogels, and some of the castle servants —

Chloe The Maid: If you have any issues, please call for us right away.

Marie The Maid: We were good friends, so don’t be shy!

After taking care of my personal needs, the two maids cheerfully spoke to me in sign language.

Kate: Thank you so much. I’m very happy.

Although I’ve lost some of my memories……It seems my body recalls what it’s learned.

I don’t have any issues using sign language.

When I replied falteringly in sign language, they smiled so cheerfully.

Chloe The Maid: Thank goodness, you didn’t forget everything!

Marie The Maid: Please keep chatting with us.

Kate: Of course, I will!

Chloe The Maid: Speaking of chatting -

Chloe The Maid: Miss Kate, have you spoken to your boyfriend yet?

Kate: …Boyfriend?

I was so surprised by the unexpected question that I forgot to use sign language.

Chloe The Maid: See, you always like talking about him!

Marie The Maid: Chloe, wait. Doesn’t this reaction….mean she hasn’t talked to him?

Chloe The Maid: Really….!? I’m so sorry, Kate! Forget what I just said!

After that, the two of them tried to smooth over the situation and create a cheerful atmosphere, but….

The word “boyfriend” stuck to my heart.

That night - when I got into bed, all kinds of uneasiness crept into me.

When I look around my room, I find books and clothes that I don’t recall buying, and whether I want to or not, I’m forced to realize the memories I’ve lost.

(What I don’t understand….Is whether or not I really have a boyfriend?)

(I wonder….If one day I’ll remember everything, including my boyfriend….)

[Event Master List]

Tag List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @yuoi-the-magnificent @husbandosandladders @nawlink @cosmowgyral @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul @goustmilk @kraiyne @midnightsrunaway

[milkhoon]

Freak — L. Heeseung

⋆ 𐙚 ₊ 𓂃 Pairing: Nerd!Heeseung (Evan) x AFAB!Reader

⋆ 𐙚 ₊ 𓂃 Synopsis: You’ve heard a rumour about the university freak, but is he a freak when all he ever do is just existing? Well, maybe he is. In another term.

⋆ 𐙚 ₊ 𓂃 Content warning: Heeseung as Evan. Nerd and shy Hee, afab readear, mention of bullying a bit (Heeseung or Evan being called freak and people not really befriending him), smut, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, cream pie, slow porn plotting and weird details, mild choking, name calling (doll, princess, good girl, slut). Let me know if I miss any.

⋆ 𐙚 ₊ 𓂃 Word count: 4k

⋆ 𐙚 ₊ 𓂃 Okay, this is obviously my very first post here and it’s a special one cause I write this for my best friend, my baby sister. She asked for this so I hope I won’t disappoint her. Pardon me and my typos or grammatical error too, not beta read yet and English is not my first language. Happiest birthday, A! We all love you so much. May your days get even better after this. XOXO.

© deepblue for the pic. | Minors do not interact.

You have often heard whispers about a “freak” on your campus, but the identity of this figure remained elusive amidst the sea of eccentric individuals inhabiting this quaint little community. It wasn’t until a group project assignment from your professor that you were thrust into an unexpected partnership with a certain Evan.

“Wow, he’s utterly heartless! How could he match you with a freak?” your closest friends exclaimed, perplexed by the professor’s choice.

“A freak?” you queried, raising an inquisitive brow at your friend’s assertion.

“Yes, a freak. Evan is infamous for his weirdness,” your friend continued. "Just observe his attire! Exceptionally dated with thick-rimmed glasses framing his face. And let’s not forget his near-silent demeanor! He rarely engages with anyone!” she elucidated, noting the perplexity on your face.

Was that enough justification for everyone to label Evan as a freak? Who’s to say that the man isn’t simply reserved? Or perhaps he struggles with mental health issues that remain enigmatic to others? You found the rumor weird instead.

“Perhaps he’s just shy. That’s all," you attempted to brush off your friend’s remarks, bidding farewell politely and veering towards a different corridor.

Your destination was to seek out Evan. Absent from the class for undisclosed reasons, your intuition guided you to the library, rumored to be the sanctuary for the misfits and intellectuals alike.

“Hi… you are Evan, right?” you ventured, addressing the figure that resembled your friend’s description. Clad in an old fashioned clothes — an oversized woolen sweater paired with threadbare denims, complemented by circular spectacles framing his slender frame.

Your outstretched hand hesitated momentarily as Evan stood frozen in place, a bewildered and startled expression etched across his features. His eyes widened in disbelief. “Oh, I’m sorry. I am (Y/N). We were meant to attend the same class earlier, yet you were absent. Our professor assigned us a collaborative project. I propose we talk about AI and its impact on artists. Though it may sound cliché, the subject matter is currently hot and widely discussed, right?”

Evan’s ears rang with a deafening silence that drowned out your words, his body tensed in an icy grip. His gaze remained fixed upon your countenance, a figure that had often pervaded his reveries with its ethereal allure.

“Yeah, hot and widely discussed,” he echoed, not in concurrence but to describe the allure you exuded. Hot. Sexy and attractive. Unbeknownst to you, Evan’s subconscious prompted him to discreetly graze his inner cheek, restraining a stray droplet of saliva.

“Great! Let’s meet at Cafe XX this afternoon since we agreed on our project’s topic then!" you said — or rather, not realizing what the man in front of you was thinking. You reached into your bag for a moment and handed him your card, “My number is written here. Call me if you need anything!”

Accepting the card timidly, Evan nodded meekly, he didn’t want you to think he looked stupid.

“Bye, Evan!” you waved a final farewell, departing the library’s confines.

Evan held the business card you gave him. Y/N. Y/F/N. He brought the card closer to his nose and breathed in your lingering scent. Sweet.

You were supposed to meet with Evan this afternoon as per your agreement, but suddenly, a heavy rain shower engulfed the earth without any warning. The sky, previously serene, now bore the burden of heavy rain, casting a pall of uncertainty over the horizon and your heart.

The task needed to be completed within a week, yet you found yourself a day behind the seven-day deadline. You nervously nibbled on your nails, not truly biting, just place the tips of your teeth to your finger. A hint of worry lingered. With one hand holding your phone, you messaged Evan.

You: It seems like we can't work on the task right now. The rain is pouring heavily here. How about tomorrow?

Evan: Oh… Evan: Don't worry. Evan: I can come to your place.

You: My place?

Evan: Don't get me wrong. Evan: I know you can't go out now, so let me. I don't mind the rain. Evan: I mean for us to finish the task quickly.

You: Okay. You: Here's my address. Just come up to the second floor. It's the farthest room. Knock when you arrive.

You breathed a sigh of relief. Evan’s idea wasn’t so bad. If you could finalize the concept today, the next six days wouldn’t pose any problem at all.

YY Street. Heeseung was familiar with the address you had sent. No, do not accuse him of being a stalker! He had never stalked anyone. He just happened to have seen you on that street, entering a three-story building.

Heeseung couldn’t fathom where all the sudden courage had come from that led him to offer the idea of coming to your place. It seemed like he had gone mad; you were driving him further into madness. An anxious restlessness consumed him as he made his way towards your place.

Nothing strange would happen. Yes, nothing would happen.

Repeatedly reassuring himself with those words like mantra, he suddenly found himself standing in front of the building where you lived. The taxi he had ordered departed a minute ago. His feet felt heavy, stepping one by one like a fool.

His hand timidly knocked on the door after successfully passing through the lobby guarded by a vigilant security, which only added to his nervousness. It felt akin to meeting a stern future in-law.

He could hear you shouting from inside, not too loudly, before the brown door creaked open slightly, revealing you peering out.

“Hey, Evan!” you greeted him cheerfully, opening the door wider and welcoming him inside.

Nothing strange would happen. Yes, nothing would happen.

Evan followed behind you like a duckling, then opted to sit on the floor instead of the sofa, perhaps because it was closer to the table. You offered him a drink, and in his shy manner, he left the choice to you. So, you made him a cup of hot chocolate. He must have been cold from braving the rain. Afterwards, you sat by his side, unaware of the palpable tension in his breath.

One hour. Two hours. Five hours passed by quickly for you. Evan was undeniably a shy man. He didn’t speak much, and when he tried, his voice came out squeaky and timid. Unconsciously, you giggled along with your cup of hot chocolate. He was adorable. The rumors about him were truly unfounded.

Oh, at least, that’s what you thought until you realized that the rain showed no signs of subsiding. In fact, it intensified, and you noticed that your room heater wasn’t working properly. You should have complained to the management and requested a maintenance visit. The chilly night air seeping in through the window crevices began to make you shiver. The crop top you wore clearly wasn’t helping, but you felt too lazy to change into warmer clothing, especially with a guest present.

Evan glanced in your direction as you hugged yourself, arms crossed and rubbing your sides. Summoning his courage once more, he asked, “Are you cold?”

Your head automatically turned towards him, lips rounding briefly after hearing Evan’s question. His voice didn’t waver like before. You simply nodded. The rain persisted, the room heater wasn’t functioning properly, and your attire wasn’t providing much warmth. Of course, you were cold.

Approaching you, not too closely, he reached for your hand, his much larger hand enveloping yours. You jumped in surprise but allowed him to hold your hand. You were confident he had good intentions, right?

For a few minutes, everything was quiet, but his hand continued to grip yours and stroke it, providing warmth.

His earnest and genuine demeanor touched you, although it was just a simple gesture. Unconsciously, you leaned in, closing the gap between you. He averted his gaze, now looking at you as if asking if you needed something. In a shy gesture, you unexpectedly kissed his cheek.

He froze, you froze. After a soft exhale, you said, “Um… thank you? You’re so sweet. I couldn’t resist, sorry.”

For a moment, he opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, “Thank you?” was all that came out. You nodded.

“Because you helped me feel warmer,” you explained with a smile. He looked down, his ears turning red, a sign of his embarrassment.

“I can help you feel warmer if you want,” Evan offered in a very soft voice, almost inaudible if you weren’t the only two present in the room. If you hadn’t been paying attention or if you hadn’t been unconsciously focused on him all this time.

“How would you warm me up?” you inquired, prompting him to lift his head again. His round eyes sparkled in the light, truly endearing. It was as if he was questioning you and seeking permission. You nodded faintly.

Still with his hands clasped together, Evan cut the distance between you before one hand came under your chin; bringing you into a small kiss. He kissed your lips, then opened his eyes to reveal his round eyes again. Seeing no resistance from you, he continued. Sucking your lips, kissing them gently before his tongue taps your row of teeth—asking permission to enter. You were happy to welcome his tongue, buying it with yours. Fight for dominance for a while until you finally give in. He explores your entire oral cavity. Then you take more until your saliva drips down, until you run out of breath and slap his chest slowly. That’s when he broke the kiss. But it didn’t stop there, he didn’t let you breathe properly because next, he placed small kisses on the side of your jaw, then down to your neck. Giving you the same small kisses but with fewer sucks and nibbles, you couldn’t help but moan. Damn, he’s really good.

He enjoys every inch of your body, not leaving a single inch without being gently touched. Then, he took you onto his lap. His arms are wrapped intimately around your waist while he himself is busy giving licks to your nipples which are starting to perk up because of the cold air and of course because of arousal. He moved his tongue up and down, not finding the fibers of the clothes still wrapped around your body bothering. He only lifted your crop top a little afterward to do the same to the other nipple. This continues until he feels satisfied licking and sucking your nipples. His other hand suddenly slipped into the mini skirt you were wearing, rubbing your thigh gently but moving upwards. Getting closer to the center of your body. Playing with the hem of your panties, moving to the middle and pressing your lips. He could feel the cotton cloth was wet, he smiled crookedly.

You couldn’t open your eyes properly, not with all Evan’s touches everywhere. When you opened your eyes, it was clear that he was looking at you, writhing in amusement. With a charming smile. He would definitely look better without glasses, you thought. Taking off the glasses that framed his face. Choked up when you saw that his face was even more handsome like this, up close. You moved forward, taking him into a deep, hot kiss as you moved back and forth. Grinding on his thighs.

“Slow down, doll. The night is still young,” he insited while restraining your movements by locking your waist. “I will make sure you are ready first, okay?” he continued the activities that were previously disrupted.

This time he didn’t just rub the outside of your underwear but forced his way inside. Play with your clitoris before inserting a finger. Your eyes rolled, a suppressed moan finally coming out. Tears almost coming out.

“Hurts...” you moaned softly, he stroked your hair gently. Trying to calm you down.

“Shhhh... it’s going to hurt more if I don’t do this, you know it well, princess.” that’s what happened before he moved his fingers forward and back, slowly, slowly and then faster with each passing second. He also added two more fingers into your vagina, making scissor-like movements to prepare you. This continues until the walls of your vagina, which at first were very tight and sucked his fingers, making him wince and think about what would happen if he entered you directly, finally twitch.

“I'm close!” you squealed.

“Take it out, doll. Be a good girl and let it out for me.” he murmurs, still continuing to pound your pussy rapidly with his slender fingers. Not long after, the white liquid came out, soaking your panties which weren’t completely removed as well as Evan’s pants which he was still wearing.

With a satisfied smile, Evan pulled out his fingers from your twisted love tunnel, causing you to whimper with the loss of stimulation. You were drenched in your juices and the scent was intoxicating. He cleaned your thighs with a quick sweep of his thumb, savoring the taste before licking it off.

“Good girl,” he praised affectionately while maintaining eye contact, pushing the hair off your face. He leaned in, giving you another sensual, lust-filled kiss, and then positioned his thick, pulsating cock at your entrance.

The hand that had previously clutching your nape now slid up to cup your cheek. He pushed your panties aside and lower his pants. With a practiced ease, he then forced into you with a slick pop, your walls encircling his member. There was a moment of breathlessness, your eyes locking as he began to move within. In and out, filling you with each stroke as your legs gripped him, keeping him close.

The rhythm steadily built, a counterpoint to your growing sounds of delight. Your nails raked at his shoulders, leaving red trails as you clung to him. Then, the pressure within you seemed to reach the breaking point, a build-up of a storm threatening to burst.

Gasping for breath, you cried out, “Evan, I’m going to… I’m going to...”

Evan responded by increasing the pace, pounding into you mercilessly, his own climax beckoning. “Cum for me, doll,” he growled raggedly, the provocative words adding fuel to the fire that burned within.

The storm broke, the walls of yours being constricted violently, your orgasm crashing through. Keened, your nails digging into his skin, body bucking wildly matched his frenzied tempo, giving everything you had. The sheets beneath began to move, twisted and tangled as you chased the pinnacle of pleasure.

With a deep groan, he stiffened, his own culmination arrived, bathing both of you in his hot seed. He remained inside, holding you tightly as he rode the aftershocks.

Evan suddenly flipped you, making your hair spilling across the bed in a disheveled mess. He pulled out of you slowly, leaving you slick and wanting. As he did, you shifted, your hips still twitching with the lingering sensation of pleasure.

“Don’t be such a greedy slut, stop moving! I’m not done yet,” Evan warned you in a husky voice you never thought would heard before. He gripped your neck, not tight enough to cut off air but close enough to make you aware of his grip. It was a stark contrast to the tender moments, but his desire for control and intimacy was intertwined.

You shivered, your heart racing with a mix of fear and excitement. You nodded, indicating your consent. Evan shifted behind you, positioning himself at you entrance once more. “Ready for more, princess?” He murmured, his breath hot against your ear.

You moaned her response, your body aching for the promised fulfillment. Evan thrust back into you, his grip on your neck steady and firm. The dual sensation of the tight hold and his penetration built a crescendo of arousal within your again. Your mind swam in a hazy mix of trust, risk, and lust.

His movements were rougher this time, the echo of their sounds in the bedroom sharp and animalistic. Evan’s grunts filled the room, mingling with your whimpers and moans, punctuated by the sound of flesh meeting flesh.

You clawed at the bed, nails leaving crescent marks in desperation to find purchase. The friction of his sinful length against your inner walls whipped you closer.

“Evan... I’m close... again,” you gasped, feeling him swell inside. Evan pounded into you even relentlessly, his thrusts unyielding as he guided you to the edge. In a final surge, his release tore through, spilling into you once more.

He then pulled you into his arms after, both of you sprawled on the rumpled sheets. His fingers tangled in your hair, rubbing the tension from your scalp.

You cradled against him, your body still shivering from the intensity of the lovemaking. “You did a great job, princess,” Evan cooed, tugging the strands of your hair playfully, a small smile forming on his lips. He kissed your temple repeatedly as if saying sorry for the brief rude moment before.

Well, maybe your friend was right. He is indeed a freak. But in different term, only for you to notice.

[embrosegraves]

𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣

Oscar Piastri x Horner!Reader Oscar finds that having a crush having less than platonic feelings for your boss's only adult daughter is apparently free real estate for some of F1's biggest gossips

Warnings: As per, explicit language and grammatical errors.

dates on tweets don't exist, right? they're all just fake??

series masterlist | previous part | next part

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oscarpiastri A week full of sim training, rage rooms and relaxation before going home for a p1 on the podium (hopefully) (max let me have this i beg) tagged: redbullracing, yn.horner

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logansargeant did I not tell you rage rooms were the coolest ever -> oscarpiasrti yeah yeah keep bragging 🙄 -> logansargeant well since you gave me permission-

fan38 at least its a controlled environment to deal with your emotions -> yn.horner thank FUCK i convinced him to do this instead of what Ruben wanted -> rubenholtt what was wrong with egging and tp-ing her house? -> yn.horner uhh everything???

maxverstappen1 I'm not gonna go easy on you just because you grew up 10 minutes from the track -> oscarpiastri BOOOOO 🍅🍅🍅

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user358 make him wear them!!

oscarpiastri The glasses are NOT the issue and you know it. -> yn.horner What you think I don't look good with facial hair? -> oscarpiastri Hey don't put words in my mouth -> oscarpiastri I just wasn't expecting you to pick up looking like THAT

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redbullracing The face of a man that snagged P2 AT HIS HOME RACE, channelled his inner Elle Woods ("What, like it's hard?") and then proceeded to not elaborate any further tagged: oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri What can I say, I'm just built diff 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️ -> liked by author

danielricciardo We stand on business here -> oscarpiastri And that's on what? -> yn.horner PERIODTTTTTT

user325 AND NOT A SINGLE DISQUAL IN SIGHT -> danielricciardo 😢😢 -> user325 sorry Danny -> danielricciardo 😒🫶

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yn.horner having matching plushies always helps me feel better when i'm away from home

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oscarpiastri what names have you chosen for yours? assuming that whoever they match with has named theirs -> yn.horner their names are confidential i'm afraid -> oscarpiastri boooooo no fun :(

user549 wish my boyfriend did this for me -> user550 babe, we're literally on our way to go buy jellycats -> user549 ok and???

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if you see this, know that you WILL be getting the next update after the Imola GP i promise.

I've been in a really odd spot in my life where I haven't been very motivated to do any writing (or even just creating in general) for long burst of time, which means that any requests I have been sent previously have been sitting in my drafts half finished because I cannot for the life of me find any inspiration to write anything.

I count myself lucky that I had enough motivation and energy to start pre-planning for the rest of this series. If you take a look at the series masterlist you'll notice that there are numbers next to the current chapters and beyond. I've decided that the entire series is going to be 14 chapters in total with a bonus chapter for Oscar and Y/n's shenanigans at the end of the 2024 season.

I can't thank everyone enough for being so incredibly patient with me as I try to work through this writing slump. Slowly but surely I will start uploading fic reqs again

-- Embrose xx

[sumbarbietingz]

My bodyguard (+18)

Pic credit: Cinnabus on Twitter and inspiration for the story

• One shot smut, bodyguard!tojixblack!fem character, brat taming, age diff, foreplay, hair pulling, choking, degradation and praise, rough sex, squirting, creampie •

• Words count: 4,7k •

(The nword is said sometimes, I’m black yall no worries😭)

By the way, this is my first fanfic in years and my first smut ever so be kind😭 sorry for the potential grammatical errors too! And I just got off my period I'm horny as a bitch so eh you already know

Mazikeen or Maze Washington is a spoiled brat from a rich family. Her father Sean Washington is a rich and famous businessman who’s a ruthless man at work, but somehow, unable to handle his 21 yo daughter. For her safety, she has to go outside the house with a bodyguard at any time, but Maze always manages to make the man quit his job, that’s how unbearable she is. That poor Sean can’t even count how many bodyguards Maze had. And he knows she’s doing it on purpose because she absolutely hates having someone following her 24/7, he understands how annoying it must be but no matter how many times he tries to reason with her, she just doesn’t give a flying fuck. One day his associate talks about this very effective bodyguard that would be perfect for Maze and won’t put up with her bullshit. Despite being kind of doubtful he still takes the shot and contacts him, at this point, he ain’t got nothing to lose. A few days later after an interview and everything that comes with it, Toji becomes Maze’s new bodyguard, and Sean deeply hopes that he will be able to handle her. After making him sign his contract, he texts her to come downstairs and meet her new bodyguard. After something like 10 minutes, she still takes her sweet ass time to walk down the steps. As she goes down, she notices the man next to her father. And Jesus Christ, he’s probably the most handsome man she has ever seen. He’s so huge and muscular, he got on a tight ass black shirt that molds his huge pecs and his 6 pack abs perfectly. His arms would probably crush a watermelon too. She turns her attention back to her father before she gets too flustered.

Maze: "Who’s that?"

Sean: "Toji Fushiguro, your new bodyguard"

Maze dramatically groans. When is it gonna end?!

Maze: "Ugh! Dad really?"

Sean: sighs "Yes young lady. And trust me this one is very different from the others."

She rolls her eyes. She won’t argue cause deep down she knows it’s gonna end up the same way. She shrugs

Maze: "Okay whatever"

Sean turns to Toji

Sean: "I’m counting on you Toji. Take care of her and don’t be intimidated by her bratty behavior"

Toji nods

Toji: "No worries sir Washington, it won’t be an issue"

Sean nods and leaves them to go back to his office. Toji has been looking at Maze the whole time. Her outfit leaves not much to the imagination. It’s a tight and short jumpsuit that has a deep cleavage on it. She’s an absolute bombshell. Her brown skin is so clear and looks smooth, her facial features are beautiful, her curly hair is in a high ponytail, and her curves? Her boobs would probably still be too big for his huge hands, she got these childbearing hips… and the fact that she’s a bratty little bitch will make everything more fun. Maze notices how he looks at her and raises an eyebrow

Maze: "The fuck you’re looking at nigga?"

Toji chuckles. Ohhh this is gonna be fun

Toji: "I can’t look at you when you got an outfit that shows your tits almost completely? I might be your bg, but I’m still a man and I got eyes."

Maze huffs. He got some audacity

Maze: "Well you should stop. It’s weird as fuck."

Toji: "Look who’s talking. I saw you checking me out when you were walking down the stairs. I know you like what you see"

She rolls her eyes. Ugh was it that obvious? She shrugs it off

Maze: "tsk. Whatever. I wanna go shopping"

She starts walking towards the door of the mansion and Toji follows behind her. As he finally gets to see her from the back, his suspicions are confirmed. By seeing her hips he figured that she had a fat ass too and boy she had one. Every step she makes makes her shit bounce and recoil. It looks so… fuckable… he licks his lips thinking about what kind of fun they could have but his main priority is still to protect her.

After a while, they’re at the mall, and she obviously attracts all the attention. From her skimpy outfit revealing her luscious body, to her Hermes purse, her ridiculously big and shiny Rolex with red rubies on the bezel, the last iPhone she keeps her eyes on… everything screams that she’s a walking bank account. She already went to at least 5 boutiques, from regular stores to buy skimpy outfits to designer ones to get new shoes or bags. Toji had to deal with her bratty behavior the entire time, but he still does his job and scans his surroundings for potential threats, but it’s becoming hard to do so when two gigantic cheeks are hitting each other and basically begging him to grab and smack them, it’s like her ass got a mind on its own. He takes a deep breath and tries to not think about clapping her ass chee-

Maze: "Hey you." She turns around and stops walking

Toji slightly shakes his head getting out of his naughty thoughts

Toji: "What’s up?"

She hands him her bags

Maze: "Take ‘em"

He raises an eyebrow

Toji: "I’m your bodyguard, not your butler princess"

"Princess". God why does she loves that pet name and the way it rolls off his tongue so effortlessly?

Maze: "Okay but take it. You’re still my employee"

He crosses his arms

Toji: "I’m your father's employee, not yours. You won’t boss me around like you did with your previous weaklings and the people around you."

Maze: "Listen up Tijo."

Toji rolls his eyes again

Toji: "It’s Toji."

Maze: "Tai chi or whatever. Your broke ass got a job because of me, so be thankful that you’ll get to pay your bills this month and grab my goddamn bags."

Toji is starting to lose patience. He doesn’t respond, cause if he does, he’ll probably say something that will get him fired on his first day. So he simply stares at Maze and she stares back, for at least a good minute. Eventually, she huffs and grabs her phone from her purse.

Toji: "What are you doing?"

Maze keeps her attention to her phone

Maze: "Getting an Uber. I’m going to my friend’s house. I’m out of here."

Toji huffs

Toji: "Are you throwing a tantrum over the fact that I won’t take your bags?"

Maze: "Shut up old man. I wanted to do that anyway."

Toji rolls his eyes

Toji: "Why are you taking an Uber? I can get you there"

Maze: "Because I don’t want you to come with me OBVIOUSLY" She shakes her head in disbelief as if it was absolutely obvious that she doesn’t want him to come with her

Toji: "Yeah. It’s not gonna happen princess. I’m your bodyguard and your father said-"

She cuts him off

"I don’t care what my dad says. I don’t your creepy old ass up my ass 24/7. Nigga go take care of your kids and wife instead, you old bitch."

Toji stays silent. This bratty attitude was fun for a moment but now she’s really starting to push his buttons. He didn’t want to do this now but it’s time for the spoiled little princess to learn her lesson. He grabs her wrist and drags her outside the mall towards the nearest hotel he can find despite her resistance and protests.

Maze: "What the hell?! Let go of me you-"

Toji cuts her off

Toji: "Could you shut the fuck up for once in your goddamn life?"

Maze grunts and tries to get off his grip but goddamnit he’s so strong, and resisting just makes her wrist hurt more so she gives up and lets him drag her wherever he wants to go. They arrive at a quite luxurious hotel and the receptionist makes a confused face when he sees them. Toji asks for a room and of course, tells Maze to pay for it. Once it’s done he drags her again towards the room in question. He opens the door and pushes her inside as he closes the door behind them. She stumbles and drops her bags and purse on the floor. She barely has time to react when Toji comes behind her, grabs her by her throat and at the base of her ponytail, and approaches her ear.

Toji: "Listen. Your dad pays me an insane amount of money to make sure his stupid spoiled bitch daughter doesn’t end up dead. You’re not gonna fuck up my bag. If that means fucking your brains out until you behave, then this is what I’m gonna do"

She gasps when she feels his hands on her and she can feel her pussy getting wetter from hearing him. She loves how he manhandles her. The smell of his cologne fills her nose, his warm breath sends a shiver down her spine… she bites her lip in anticipation. Toji notices that and chuckles

Toji: "You like this don’t you? Being tamed by a strong man like me who knows how to handle little bitches like you mmh?"

She nods, she always had a degradation and praise kink and hearing him right now was pure bliss to her. He whispers in her ear

Toji: "Say it"

She feels weak, she licks her upper lip as she responds, her voice a bit shaky

Maze: "I love when real men like you handle bitches like me…"

God she could feel herself getting wetter by saying that. Toji hums in satisfaction, his excitement growing in his pants and against her ass. He lets go of her hair and neck and pushes her cleavage down, revealing her big breasts. He growls as he starts playing with them

Maze moans softly, her titties have always been a sensitive part of her body and she loves when they get attention. She can feel Toji’s big hands massaging her boobs and it just feels so good. Then he starts playing with her nipples and she can’t help but moan a little louder

Toji can feel himself getting harder as he listens to her, her moans sound like harmony as he plays with these sensitive little nipples. They’re so small, it’s cute to him. Then he lifts her tit towards her mouth

Toji: "Lick."

She automatically listens to him, lowers her head, and starts licking her nipple, her tongue swirling on it. Toji groans at the scene before him and joins her. His tongue finding the sensitive skin along with Maze’s tongue. They keep touching each other and she feels like she’s going to explode. The sensation of his tongue against hers as they both dance on her nipple is driving her crazy and she can feel her panties getting drenched. Then he grabs her boob in his mouth and tugs at it before releasing it with a pop. He turns Maze around and sees her half lidded eyes. He can tell how badly she wants him.

Toji: "On your knees." He orders

She nods and does what he tells her to do. He looks down at her, looking at this needy expression on her face, she looks so fucking hot, looking like that on her knees. He doesn’t even need to tell her what to do that she’s already undressing him. Mmm, what a cock hungry slut.

She pulls his grey sweatpants and boxers down and she almost yells when she sees it. Her jaw drops to the floor. She can’t believe this size exists in real life. It’s not only long, but it’s also thick as hell and the veins are pulsing, it’s the kind of dick that will stretch you out. She looks down and sees that his balls are twice the size of ping-pong balls. Oh, Christ can she really handle all that?

Toji notices her reaction and chuckles. It’s the same thing every time a woman sees him for the first time. He knows she’s probably asking herself how she’s gonna fit everything in

Toji: "Are you planning to suck my dick or you’re gonna stay with your mouth agape the whole day?"

She shakes her head and braces herself. She starts giving kisses along the length, the head, the frenulum, taking her time. Toji sighs softly, loving how she’s not directly sucking it and going crazy on him yet. After a while she’s licking his head and frenulum, sucking his cock, struggling to go all the way in so she uses her hands to stroke the part she can’t reach, and sucks the other half, saliva already dripping from her mouth

Toji groans, his hand reaching the base of her ponytail again

Toji: "Pretty sure you can do better than that princess. Show me how these dick sucking lips and that long tongue of yours can do"

All this dirty talk turns her on so badly, but he’s right. She has enough experience to know that she can do better than that but good luck going all the way down with that monster dick. She braces herself again and forces herself to take him deeper, the tip of his cock already triggering her sensitive gag reflex. All it takes is two back and forth and her tears are already leaving her eyes, ruining her makeup. She gags but keeps going, the saliva drenching his dick and her cheeks. She looks at him with half lidded eyes, a runny nose, and makeup ruined by tears.

Toji growls with pleasure and seeing her in that state is not only hot as fuck, but also hella satisfying. Seeing that bratty bitch in such a submissive state fills him with joy.

Toji: "Look at you. Do you still think you can boss me around? Mmm… we might do this more often. Seems like this mouth ain’t only good for talking shit but also for giving good blowjobs uh princess?"

If she wasn’t using her hands to support herself she would’ve already started rubbing her aching clit. Now she decides to go all the way. She goes back and forth faster, twisting her head while doing so, gaging again and again as she groans and makes aggressive, almost animalistic slurping and sucking sounds to the point it sounds like she’s speaking in tongues, making his dick dripping with saliva. With her hand, she cups and plays with his massive balls already slick with spit.

Toji pants from the sensations and the sounds, this is the best neck he had in a while and all these slurping, sucking, and groaning sounds are gonna make him cum too quickly.

Toji: panting "Alright stop princess, get in the bed and undress."

She takes his dick out of her mouth, strings of saliva linking his dick to her lips. She’s panting a bit, her already plump lips swollen, the bottom red… she looks an absolute mess. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and stands up, her legs feeling a bit weak from being on her knees. She walks towards the bed and takes her shoes off, and once she’s sitting she takes off her jumpsuit. Not only she didn’t have a bra (which is understandable with that outfit) but she also had no panties on. Toji observes her body, it looks even better naked. It takes everything in him to not just fuck her right there and then, but for some reason he wants her to enjoy it too even though she doesn’t deserve it after being such a bitch to him all day. He takes off his clothes too and Maze feels like a dog in heat when she sees him fully naked. He looks like a fucking Greek god. Everything about him is perfect. His face, his body, his XXL monster dick… she can feel her pussy throbbing in anticipation. Toji comes to the bed on top of her, his huge body caging her much smaller one. His hand starts caressing her waist, the touch making her shiver. Before she can say anything his lips finally find hers, and she moans once she gets to know what he tastes like. Toji kisses her slowly and sensually as he tastes the both of them. His tongue quickly finds hers again as they dance together, a slow dance quickly turning into a battle for dominance. Maze grips his broad shoulders, fuck she wants more of him, she needs so much more… she feels him tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth, which makes her aching for his touch even more. And suddenly she feels his hand leaving her waist to caress his way to her dripping wet core. She shivers in excitement then lets out a gasp that’s followed by a moan once his fingers start rubbing her clit in slow, circular motions.

Maze: "Mmmh…. fuck… Toji…."

Toji: "So now you know my name uh?"

Maze can’t respond, she suddenly feels embarrassed for pretending to not know when now she’s moaning the very name she was disrespecting. All she can do is moan.

Toji kisses and licks her neck as he keeps playing with her little pussy.

Toji: "You want more?"

Maze simply nods, and then he suddenly stops to grab her hips and flips her on her stomach, causing her to gasp in surprise. The first thing he does is finally grab this fat ass of hers. This is exactly how he imagined. It’s like squeezing two giant marshmallows. Her ass is so soft and he feels like he can play with that shit for hours. He grabs it, smacks it, and makes it recoil… fuck it feels like Jell-O in his hands. Maze on the other hand moans from the attention he’s giving to her.

Toji: "Get on your hands and knees."

She happily does as he says and arches her back. The way that drives her hookups insane. Toji curses under his breath and admires the work of art in front of him. Asses tends to look bigger in backshots but now? Her shit just straight up looks like two planets. And the way she arches her back? He’s wondering how is it even possible. He runs his hand on her ass and her back, enjoying the smoothness of her skin. In those moments he’s always glad to have a big dick because there are no issues of slipping out when dealing with a big butt. He grabs his dick and starts grinding it between her cheeks, his other hand resting on her hip.

Maze: "Please put it in me…" She begs, her voice almost a whisper as she looks over her shoulder, she’s so horny right now she might cry if she doesn’t get dicked down in the next few seconds. Toji chuckles and slides his dick on her pussy lips, the tip of his cock making out with her slick folds. Maze can’t take all of this teasing anymore. She needs him BADLY. She lets out a soft whimper

Maze: "God please Toji… I need you right now…"

Toji: "Seems like you know how to ask for something uh? Beg for me princess and I’ll give you what you need."

She takes a deep breath, she’s never felt so submissive in her life, and she sure liked that. She looks into his eyes, they’re pleading

Maze: "Please Toji, please… I’m begging you… please fuck me… I need you inside me so badly…"

Toji hums in satisfaction

Toji: "Good girl."

Finally, he starts sliding himself inside of her, and she’s so wet that it comes in easily. ‘Fuck she’s so tight’ is what he’s thinking as he dives deeper and deeper inside of her. Maze gasps in pleasure as she feels herself getting penetrated. ‘God he’s so big’ is what she’s thinking as she grips the sheets to steady herself.

Toji starts rocking his hips slowly against hers, feeling the way her tight vagina swallows him. He grunts as he hears her beautiful moans filling the room. Shortly after his pace increases, causing her to moan louder. And mind you, he’s not even fully inside her. Maze feels so good right now she can’t think about anything else but Toji giving her pleasure.

Toji: "You know I’m not all the way in right?"

And when he says that her eyes widen in shock. What do you mean he’s not fully inside her when she feels already so full?! She thought that she might have heard him wrong but no she heard that correctly. She looks over her shoulder, a face of confusion and pleasure greeting him

Toji: "You heard me. Why do you think this ass of yours is not making any noise yet?"

Damn she knew that something was kinda off. He’s really not joking. Toji has that smug look on his face

Toji: "Think you can handle it and take it like a good girl princess?"

Maze hesitates. He’s only halfway there and she already feels full as hell. But she’s not a punk. She can take it. So she nods and Toji smirks. He smacks her ass and then pushes inside, making him groan deeply and Maze almost cries out in pain and pleasure. She can’t even think about saying something that he starts going faster and harder

Toji: "That’s it. Take that fucking dick."

Maze moans louder than before as she feels Toji kissing her cervix, her moans are a mix of pain and pleasure as she feels him violating her insides. Nobody ever reached that spot and now she feels like her brain is melting. All she can do is moan and repeat the same words like a mantra ‘Oh yes, fuck, Toji, oh my god, it feels so good’ Toji looks at the way her ass bounces and makes waves from the contact of his hips, the view along with the sensation of being balls deep inside her and her loud moans make his cock twitch. He grabs and smacks her ass, his pace doesn’t decrease a bit

Toji: "You thought you could boss me around? You thought you could treat me like shit?"

Maze can’t help but moan in response, she’s unable to talk, and the pleasure overtakes her mind and body. Toji grabs her ponytail and pulls her head down. She cries out when she feels her hair being pulled, she loves that shit.

Toji: "Answer me bitch."

When he calls her a bitch, she can feel herself tightening around him. She’s barely able to form a proper sentence as she replies to him, almost mumbling

Maze: "N-no… I’m sorry Toji…" once it’s finally out she keeps moaning in pleasure, she doesn’t remember the last time a man has ever made her feel that good. Toji starts going harder, the tip of his dick slamming her cervix in violent thrusts. Maze can’t help but moan louder and louder, her already ruined makeup from the blowjob getting even more messier as tears start rolling down her face. Toji grunts as he feels how tighter she’s getting from his talk and his thrusts. She makes him feel so fucking good

Toji: "You’re still gonna act like a bratty little bitch towards me Mazikeen?" He says as he keeps giving her these punishing and powerful thrusts

She can feel herself getting tighter again as he calls her by her full name. She feels like her soul has left her body from the amount of raw pleasure Toji is giving her

Maze: "I won’t be… i promise" she mumbles out

Toji: "From now on you’re gonna stop being a pain in the ass, you’re gonna let me do my fucking job and respect me got it?" His voice is deeper than usual, the pleasure and physical effort can be heard.

All she can do is agree with him. She doesn’t have the strength to be defiant anymore with the way he fucks her so good. Toji chuckles and holds her ponytail tighter

Toji: "Look at you unable to fucking talk. Thought you could take it princess?" He taunts. All she can do is moan.

Toji: "See how it feels like to get fucked by an ‘old man’? You see the difference between me and the losers you be having?" He says his hips still slamming against her ass

Maze can only nod as she looks at the ceiling. She had good sex before but like he said, he’d fuck her brains out and this is exactly what he’s doing. She has a dumb look on her face as she takes every inch of his dick in her dripping cunt.

Toji: "You’ve never had anyone fuck you dumb like this uh? But you let that the same bodyguard you called 'creepy old and broke’ give you the best fuck of your life uh?"

God if he doesn’t shut up… all of his dirty talk is gonna make her cum very soon if he doesn’t shut the fuck up. Toji can feel himself getting close as well so he lets go of her hair to grab her ass tighter as he keeps pounding the fuck out of Maze.

Toji: "Im gonna cum princess. And just so you know, I’m not planning to pull out"

Maze feels her heart beating faster. She’s not on birth control and the idea of Toji cuming in her is terrifying but also very exciting.

Maze: "I-I’m not on bc…" she moans out

Toji: "Then pray you won’t get knocked up by your bodyguard" he replies as he keeps fucking her. He can feel her getting tighter again, the idea of him spilling his cum in her is probably very appealing to her. She wants it as much as he wants it.

Toji: "That would be too bad if you got knocked up by your bodyguard right princess? What would your father think uh" Maze bites her lip, why is he talking about that when she’s a few thrusts away from cuming?

Maze: "Don’t talk about him now…" she moans out, feeling closer and closer to the edge. Toji chuckles

Toji: "Once I cum in you, you’re mine got it? Only I get to fuck you, you heard me?"

Maze can only agree. She nods frantically as she grips the sheets so tightly she might rip them off. Toji smacks her ass hard

Toji: "Such a good little slut. Now cum for me princess. Cum on your cock"

Once she hears that it’s over. Her hand reaches her clit and all it takes is a few fast circles for her to come apart. She cries out his name loudly and she squirts all over the bedsheet, her cyprine forming a small puddle between her knees and dripping on her thighs. She sees white while she keeps panting from the intensity of the intercourse. He can’t see from his position but once she screams his name, hears something dripping on the bedsheet and feels her pussy pulsating, all it takes is a few more thrusts and he groans loudly, feeling himself spilling his cum deeply inside her, painting her cunt white. She feels the warm substance in her and she moans at the sensation, goddamn this is the hottest thing a man has ever done to her. He pulls out and they both collapse on the bed, heavily breathing from the intensity of their sex. Maze shakes a bit, feeling the cum dripping out of her. Toji lays next to her, seeing that she’s so exhausted that she apparently doesn’t mind laying on her puddle of love juice. He looks at her trembling frame, her ruined makeup and cheeks wet in tears. He smiles to himself. She’s gonna behave from now on. After a while she finally talks, her voice a bit shaky and low.

Maze: "Could you… get me a Plan B please?"

Toji smirks. She asked politely. He fucked the attitude out of her, which is gonna make his job as her bodyguard much more easier. They’re gonna have so much fun together. And he’ll probably get a promotion for finally taming his boss’ bratty daughter. That was one hell of a good first day.

Toji: "Of course princess. I’ll get you one right away"

[roxineedstosleep]

Could you do a snippet for yandere platonic Batfam where reader accidentally gets hurt and is able to hide it for a few days until someone (May be Dick?) finds it and asks / gets upset about it? Love your writing!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Hi there!!!

First of all: Thank you sweetie!

It's been a while since I've written, mostly because of the university, I'm about to graduate and I'm crazy because I'm approaching my final exams (I even have to defend my research work to be able to get my bachelor's degree)!

But, I got to thinking a bit about what you have written above… and even more so because I myself am a little bit crashed after my last film shoot for my final year of my degree. And can I just say that being in a bad way and having to hide it is terrible.

So… here goes!

(I'm sorry if I sound a bit comical in this writing, but I think the best way to get over something is to laugh at yourself a bit so you don't think about the pain too much; I hope you enjoy it anyway.)

Disclaimer: I don't know if you've noticed, but English is not my native/mother tongue. Occasionally, when I think too much, I write them in my language and then translate it in a trusted translator. So, if there's a grammatical problem or a strange term, it's the translator's fault.

Let's face it… having a large family is terribly exhausting.

It's never quiet enough, everyone is in everyone else's business, you can't leave your favorite mermelade in the fridge for less than a day. Someone is always occupying the bathroom or using your favorite shampoo or watching something on TV at too much volume and someone is probably occupying your bed at nap time.

Did I mention about meddling too much in other people's business? Yes? Well… triple it.

Having multiple siblings was new.

Having multiple siblings, a father and a butler/grandfather isn't exactly bread and butter either.

It wouldn't be so bad to belong to a large and numerous one if it was your blood family and you had lived with them all your life. I mean, sometimes blood is too thick and you have no choice but to learn to love them or just be nice to each other.

Like I said, it wouldn't be so bad if they were really your family.

But the Waynes were not your family. Not distant relatives or anything like that.

You were just living your life, as quietly as possible… and poof!

New room, new butler/grandfather, pets beyond belief, 4 new male siblings and a father with serious emotional constipation issues. And, to add more salt to your wound…. all have serious abandonment issues and death-related trauma.

After several escape attempts, sleep strikes, hunger strikes and any other kind of protest that an anarchist could be proud of… you realized that it was simply impossible to get out of this without risking the path of death.

Which, to top it all off, was also unreliable because apparently your older brother Jason had revived as well as another of your siblings. So no, dying was also not a viable option to which one could resort in the worst case scenario.

What to do?

Well, not much. Trying not to die of suffocation of affection or finding a way to have privacy while going to the bathroom just seemed to be the best survival tools you could resort to.

What does that entail?

It implies that Tim was going to give you hours and hours of lectures on his latest discovery of a case, even if you don't understand half the things he's told you or mentioned at all.

Richard and Damian trying to teach you new tricks almost every second, taking you to the Zoo or not leaving you alone to go to the bathroom.

That Jason, oh holy cow he is the only one more relaxed, takes you with him on his motorcycle to eat ice cream and to the public library. Without being able to scape, because it seems that you have a kind of GPS inserted in the bone marrow.

(Sometimes you don't know if it's true or not, but sometimes you also felt pain between your bones, almost during the cold seasons, and you didn't want to burst your poor little head thinking of different viable possibilities knowing them. No scars, no remembering anythins about any surgery).

Have a grandfather who will not hesitate to make you cookies, your favorite foods whenever you want … without leaving you aside at any time.

Plus a terribly quiet father, who if he can will carry you for as long as you spend time together, won't let you near the secret basement and enjoys being in the same room with you.

Do you see any privacy in this?

No, because even at the bathroom door would be the pets trying to get in and see you for themselves while you want to do your business.

The worst of that? Titus always judge you when you close the curtains.

As I mentioned and it was clear: Having a large family implies little privacy… Having a large, obsessive family means NO privacy.

So, knowing that you have over 50 nanochips tracking in all your clothes, two security monitors embedded - God knows how - in your body (monitors that only tell you if you are in designated safe place), 20 high definition surveillance cameras in every room and a Great Dane chasing you like a chick …. How the heck do you fall down the stairs and hit your pelvic bone without anyone noticing?

No kidding, how?

And if you had to blame someone for your fall… you'd totally blame Damian for it.

It's not that the kid pushed you down the stairs, but over time he had tamed himself into various things and relaxed into looking his age. You know!!! He started acting like a normal teenager!

What do Damian's kids do at his age? Well, they leave things lying around and have messing around them when they can, of course they do!

You just wanted some yogurt with orange marmalade. Maybe some oatmeal cookies. Alfred had left it for you in the fridge when he noticed you'd been watching video tutorials on homemade marmalade for hours. Who were you to deny such a gesture of generosity?

I mean, Alfred was the one who allowed you to hide in the attic for hours on end so you could have some time to yourself.

And how did it end? You, slipping down the main stairs of the old Wayne mansion, down a nicely polished wooden staircase, rolling all the way down (which is no small flight of stairs, it should be noted) to the bottom of the first floor.

Now, lying on the ground is not so bad in itself. What is bad is not being able to feel your legs and still not being able to understand how you manage to tidy up your neural wiring so that your legs can still move on their own and go to the kitchen to rescue all the delicacies Alfred left you in time.

And it's a good thing you managed to do it… because within seconds Bart had rushed in to ransack the fridge and the fruit basket.

But that's not the point.

The important thing is that this time you managed, I insist a little on the feat of action, to climb up to your room and not notice how you couldn't really feel your legs.

You ate, you lay down… and to your bad or good luck, you couldn't get up …. and without anyone noticing there was an emergency and everyone went out to sort it out.

Weak limbs, limited movement and you don't want to mention the embarrassing actions you did in order to go to the toilet.

It's not like you hid it either, I mean, there was no one who could even notice because they weren't entirely available to watch you. Nor is it that you would have run away, otherwise they would have been at your side in less than a second.

The detail, as they insist, is that you had probably bruised your back badly and your body was now taxing you extra for your food craving.

I insist, you did not hide anything.

But still, when you're found completely itchy on the floor, ridiculously trying to run away in the direction of the bathroom… that's when everyone really goes crazy.

First, having to carry you and not dying of embarrassment when you notice that Bruce definitely doesn't give a damn about having to carry you to the bathroom and do almost everything for you.

Or having Dick and Jason carry you and fit you into some kind of weird medical scanner they have in the cave.

Or that Tim keeps track of your periods, types of meds you take and, for fuck's sake, knows how the fuck to inject something into your spine.

Or that Damian had the gall to look a little embarrassed when he heard that a pair of boxers lying outside the laundry basket was to blame for all this.

NO matter.

At the end of the day they heal you, pamper you, leave you alone when you need to take a nap and figure out a way to fix it without looking like complete maniacs who built some kind of internal plumbing that sucks up the dirty laundry and throws it straight into the washing machine.

Like the time they didn't look like maniacs by sanding all the edges of the tables and nightstands.

Or the time they bought a whole brand of sanitary towels when they realised that not all women use tampons.

Don't worry, they're looking out for you… even if they look like deranged Arkhan freaks in the process.

[wizard-on-whales]

Punishments

NSFW 17+

Being James Hetfields guitar tech was not a job for the weak, you knew that, but after another mistake James loses his patience and punishes you in an unexpected way

Warnings: unprotected sex, marking, spanking, manhandling, overstimulation, grammatical errors

This video inspired me 😋

Word count: 2.4k

✭-----------------------------✭

Being James Hetfields guitar tech was not an easy job. The man was picky as hell and if a single string was just slightly out of tune, you could expect the thing to be thrown at you. His little temper tantrums were something you were used to at this point after having worked for the band for years. You knew how to manage them well and how to avoid getting a concussion from an 8 pound guitar getting chucked at your head.

By now, you hardly ever had bad days or screw ups. Your familiar routine had been perfected and both you and James thrived with it. But today was not that day. As James plays the first few notes of fade to black on his acoustic, you realize you turned it in standard and not a half step down like everything else. You silently curse yourself as the band stops playing, the anger already fuming off of James. He looks over at you, watching as you quickly hurry over to the stage to fix it but he waves you off before aggressively kicking the guitar over and playing the intro on his electric instead.

You huff quietly, feeling frustrated and embarrassed with yourself, making your way onto the stage to retrieve the acoustic from the ground as the band plays on. Luckily the rest of the night went by without another incident, but that one mistake had clearly ruined James’ mood.

After the band finishes their set for the night and says their goodbyes to the fans, James storms off the stage and disappears down a hallway. You stay in your place, organizing and putting up your equipment for the night. James' assistant interrupts your focus as he speaks to you.

“James wants to talk to you, he's in his dressing room…” He tells you slowly, knowing that you're about to feel the full wrath of your boss. You sigh quietly and nod your head. You slowly make your way through the maze of hallways until you find his dressing room, knocking on the door before entering. James was leaning up against a small desk in there with his fingers pinched against the bridge of his nose. He looks up at you, clearly fuming.

“One job. You have one fucking job and it's the same one you've had for 20 fucking years! You'd think by now you wouldnt make a stupid ass mistake like that!” James yells at you, throwing his hands out by his sides in frustration. He pushes himself away from the desk and steps closer to you as you step into the dressing room and close the door behind you.

“It was one mistake! We haven't had any issues like that in a while, it's not the end of the world!” You groan, rolling your eyes at him in annoyance. That little act seems to make James' last thread of patience snap as he harshly grabs you and pins you against the door. You let out a small yelp, your hands going to cover yourself but he grabs your wrists and holds them tightly in his grasp. In all of the years you had known him he had never grabbed you this way, you felt your heart racing in your chest, a sense of panic washing over you. It was no doubt that James was twice your size, there was nothing you could do to fight against his grasp.

“One little mistake my ass…you embarrassed me in front of 50 thousand people waiting to hear that damn song,” He growls darkly, glaring down at you with his teeth bared like a rabid wolf waiting to tear apart its prey.

“James..I-Im sorry, I just wasn't thinking…I-,” You stutter, your heart racing faster, your breathing ragged as you turn your head away from him. You see his eyes dart down to your neck and you feel as if he's about to rip it open; Instead he does something you weren't expecting. His lips make contact with your flesh, his teeth sinking in, not harshly like a hungry animal, but like a man starved of attention and one that longed for pent up affection.

You let out a tiny, surprised gasp which caused him to tighten his grip on you. His tongue swiped over your neck, his lips sucking a mark against the smooth skin as if marking his territory. He nips a spot just below your ear which has always been a sensitive place for you, making you moan softly. Your cheeks flush and you feel him smile against your skin before moving his head away to look down at you once more.

“You want this just as bad as I do, don't you?” He questions in a low tone, an arrogant smirk across his face. You swallow thickly and nod your head, unable to find the words to speak. He chuckles, roughly pulling up away from the door and dragging you over to the couch.

“I think it's about time I give you a proper punishment after all of these years,” He sits down on the couch and pulls you over his knee, his hand instantly going to your ass and giving it a harsh smack. You let out a yelp, your face burning brighter as you cover it with your hands.

“Say your sorry,” He demands, spanking you again, this time drawing a moan from your lips. He smiles to himself at the success of this discovery about you.

“I'm sorry!” You squeak out, another hard smack landing on your bottom.

“That's not good enough!” He growls, pulling at the back of your shirt which forced you to stand.

“Strip.” He commands you, leaning against the back of the couch with his arms crossed. You hesitate for a moment before moving to pull your shirt off, tossing it to the side. You reach for your bra before you hear a small “tsk”.

“At least give me a show,” He shakes his head, an anaumsed look across his features. You do as he says, feeling nervous at the intensity of his stare. You run your hands up and down your bare stomach before turning around and letting him watch your hands unclip your bra. You let it slide down your arms, holding it out for him to see before dropping it to the floor. You keep your back turned to him as you unbutton your jeans and wiggle your hips out of them, hearing him let out a small groan as you bend over to push them down all the way.

You hear him shift before feeling his hands on your hips, turning you around to face him. His hands trail up your sides before they meet your breasts, giving them a squeeze. You bite your lip as you watch him closely, your skin flushed with arousal. Suddenly he pulls you back over his knee and delivers another harsh smack against your ass, causing you to let out a half moan, half whimper; with the lack of coverage, this one stung and left a bright mark against your skin.

“Poor thing…can't handle a few small taps…” He mocks you for your noises, his hand gently rubbing the sore skin, soothing it a bit.

“I'm sorry…” You repeat softly, looking over your shoulder at him. There was a dark look behind his eyes as he scowled at you, spanking you again. You whimper again and squeeze your eyes shut, your arousal pooling further from the feeling of being manhandled like this. You feel his fingers massage your sore skin once more before they pull your panties to the side, his fingertips edging your wet and throbbing entrance.

“You're a fucking slut aren't you…enjoying being bent over your bosses knee, getting the punishment you deserve…” His fingers rub circles around your entrance, teasing you for a few moments before he pushes them into you, you sigh softly, your tight walls clenching with need around them.

“Tell me how much you like this,” James growls, his thick fingers moving slowly, stretching you open.

“I love it,” You moan out, your eyes closed as you get lost in the feeling. He pushes a third finger into you, making you hiss slightly from the sting. His fingers eagerly explore your cunt, curling and pressing against your walls just right.

“Fuuuuckk…you're making a mess already,” He groans out, watching his fingers move in and out of you, your slick dripping down them and down his wrists making his tattoos glisten under the light.

“Mm…James,” You moan out his name. That earned you another smack.

“It's Sir,” He growls, pushing his fingers deeper and moving them faster. Your whimper softly, feeling your legs start to tremble as your body lay dangling over his lap. Your mind was blank. All you could focus on was the wet noises coming from between your legs as his fingers assault your pussy and the feeling of his other hand massaging the red skin on your ass. If this was how he'd handle your mistakes from now on you'd gladly make more.

The higher and louder your moans and whines seemed to get, the faster James moved his fingers. You could feel your climax building, your walls clenching around his fingers. Right before you were about to finish, James pulled them out. You whine in protest and look back at him. He pulls your body up from over his lap with ease before tossing you onto the couch. He wastes no time to pull his shirt over his head and push his jeans and boxers down, leaving him fully exposed. His cock looked painfully hard, twitching eagerly, his tip already dripping.

James grabs your wrists and pins them above your head as he settles himself between your legs. He looks down, teasing your entrance with his tip before plunging himself deep into you. You squeal loudly, your back arching off of the couch. With his free hand, James grabs your thigh and pushes it to your chest, using it as support to rapidly slam his hips into yours. His eyes were focused on yours for only a second before they became more interested in the bulge in your stomach.

“Tell me how good it feels,” He grunts out, rutting into you with a desperate need for his own pleasure.

“S-so good…oh!” You stutter out, your brain hardly able to process words as he practically splits you in half with his cock. He was definitely the biggest man you had been with, no doubt about that. And he was definitely the only one who had handled you this way, like you were his property…and you loved it. You loved getting fucked so hard it made you braindead.

“Yeah? S’good? Fuck you're so tight…haven't been fucked like this for a while, have you?” He groans, his hand moving from your wrists and grabbing a handful of your breast, kneading the flesh with an almost fascination.

“N-no, sir…” You moan, your hands going to his shoulders and gripping them tightly for support. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed around the room and mixed with your whiny moans and James’ heavy grunting. The wet, squelching between your legs was even louder now that you were stuffed to the brim with his cock and not his fingers.

“That's right…and only I can make you feel this good from now on,” He mutters, focused on his sloppy rhythm and the feeling of you clenching around him. Fuck you felt good, he thought, so good he was almost drooling onto your skin.

Your hands claw at him desperately, his muscle flexing underneath your grip with each greedy thrust. You could feel a familiar warmth building in your stomach but you couldn't find the words to warn him. As James pushes himself as deep as he could, his cock penetrating you and bulging into your abdomen, you both feel your squirt coat your lower halves.

James looks down and groans loudly, the sight making him slam his hips even faster. You became a trebling mess of uncontrollable moans underneath him, the stimulation becoming far too much but he didn't stop. He wasn't going to until he was satisfied and until he knew he had filled you to the brim with his seed. He pushes your legs further to your chest, locking you into a mating press.

“Fuck, just like that, keep squeezing me just like that, baby,” He moans out, his own noises becoming louder, his rhythm becoming sloppier. Your nails were digging into his skin, probably drawing blood but neither of you noticed or cared. You could feel your third orgasm rising and this time it collided with his. James’ thrusts became erratic before slowing, he kept himself buried deep in your walls as his heavy spurts filled you.

He stayed like that for a few moments, trying to catch his breath before pulling out of you. He moves your trembling legs away from your chest and pulls them around his waist as he stares down at you. Both of you had a sheen of sweat covering your skin, hair messy and all over the place, and both were attempting to process what just happened. James wipes his forehead with the armband he never took off before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss against your lips.

“I didn't hurt you did I?” He asks with a groggy voice, his thumbs gently stroking your waist as he holds it.

“No…” You shake your head, a bit dazed. A small smile crosses your features as you look up at him.

“Sorry I got so pissed…been in a bad mood all day. This definitely helped though,” He chuckles softly, placing another kiss against your lips and cheek.

“I think I'm gonna piss you off more often…”

✭-----------------------------✭

Your wish is my command...you guys voted for this one and another one as a tie. I'll try to get the other one done in the next few days 😈

[everlastingserenitys]

BOUND BY THE CROWN

summ. If you could take the prince, why not also take your loyal servant too?

pairing. caleb x reader x sylus cw. threesome, princess!reader, prince!sylus, servant!caleb, oral, p in v, fingering, kissing, tension, switch!caleb, light possessiveness, some grammatical issues, kinda competitive, u nd Caleb had something before sylus btw, belly bulging.. 3.3k wc (sighs..) a/n. um... you could tell I was feeling it, so why not try this out (out of pure horniness) also idk why there was too much before they started fuckin I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO GET THERE IM SORRY.. and kind of late post urghh

“B-but miss! What about the prince? Wouldn't he be on his way soon?” Caleb stuttered as he watched you unbutton his top, snaking your fingers down his fragile body as every delicate touch made his words come out in a broken speech.

“They told me he’d come tomorrow, so why don't we just-”

Three knocks interrupted your speech and you turned your head to the door, asking who was there. When nobody was responding you sighed, getting off of Caleb and walked towards the door.

Your fingers grab onto the door knob and in a quick movement you pull open the door, being met with your father who was staring down at you with a concerned look.

“Yeah…?”

“Turns out the prince will be on his way in a couple of hours, so get ready.” he said, peering his gaze to Caleb who was still sitting on your bed as he was fixing the buttons on his shirt.

“…And don’t want you to keep your servants in your room unless they’re going to clean.” He mumbled, turning away from you and walked back to his room.

You angrily shut the door and walked towards Caleb who was still toying with the buttons on his shirt. He looked up at you and before he could say a word you crashed your lips on his.

“Wh-” Caleb tried to speak but it was impossible when your tongue was shoved deep in his mouth, tasting every bit of him. Caleb felt you pressing yourself against him until his back plopped against the bed.

He grabbed onto the sides of your face, pulling you closer than he could, savouring every second he could with you.

You pull away to catch your breath and stare down at his eyes, panting as if you ran a marathon. Caleb brushed his thumb against your lower lip, and took this chance to talk to you.

“What did he say?” He mumbled, moving his thumb from your lips to under your eye, pressing against the corner of it as he patiently waited for your response.

“The prince is coming in a few hours.” You sigh, plopping your head against his shoulder. Caleb hummed, but it didn’t sound like he was understanding the situation, it just felt hollow and fake.

“I could help you get ready?” he asked, slipping his fingers through your hair as he pulled your head back to look at your pretty face. Your gaze adverts from his eyes to your closet and you eventually nod.

“That’d be nice.”

After an hour of deciding on a dress and getting your makeup and everything ready, you were already standing in the halls. Standing next to your father as you patiently waited for the double doors to open.

Each second felt like hours were going by, you kept glancing at the door and back at your father, hoping the doors could just open any second now, all you needed was to meet the prince, agree on the marriage then go back to your room.

Since Caleb—or any other servants, weren’t allowed in the main halls you had no idea what he was doing but hoped he was doing okay, and hoped it would still be possible to let him be with you once you meet the prince.

As time passed, a click was heard from behind the doors. You propped yourself up, fixing your posture and locked your eyes on the double doors that were opening up.

When the doors flung open, you were met with a beautiful man who walked in, wearing a nice outfit that really showed off his figure and made him shine.

He stepped towards you, the heels of his shiny shoes clicked at every step he took, eventually when the two of you were meters apart from each other, your father budded in, reciting his little script he made, and once he finished talking the man—who you soon found out was named Sylus—nodded and brought his hand in front of you.

You stare into his eyes, then back at the hand in front of you and hesitantly grab onto it, your frail fingers collided with his rough calloused hands and you gave it a quick shake.

“The wedding will be starting in a few days,” your father announced, then looked at you for a moment, “you can bring him to your room since we are still getting his room ready.” He shooed you and Sylus off and you sigh before walking towards your room.

When you reached the front of your room door you rested your fingers against the doorknob, hesitating to open it, a moment of silence passed and Sylus raised an eyebrow when you weren’t opening the door.

“Why aren’t you opening the door?” He hummed, leaning in closer, his large figure casted a shadow ahead you and you could feel the heat radiating off his body, meddling with yours.

He slid his hand against your arm, tracing it with the tips of his fingertips, and soon those same fingers reached your hand which was still resting on the doorknob.

“Are you hiding something in there, sweetie?” He whispered, pressing his hand on yours before pushing open the door. Your breath hitched when you winked open an eye and noticed Caleb resting against your balcony, staring at the view.

Caleb turned his head and his eyes widened, he propped himself off of the railing bowing down at you before slowly walking himself out of your room.

But you could feel the tension between the two men, with Caleb purposely shoving himself past Sylus, which was a risky move but luckily Sylus didn’t do anything except stare at him.

When the door clicked shut Sylus turned his head back to you and stared at you, a hint of mockery filled his eyes.

“Do servants usually stay at their princesses' room, waiting for her to come back to them?” Sylus teased, plopping himself on your bed and stared at you.

“No…but I’ve gotten used to it, with him at least.” The last few words came out in a low whisper which was loud to Sylus. A low chuckle escaped his lips and he nodded, closing his eyes as a hummed and unrhythmic melody.

“Are you both seeing each other?” He asked.

Caught off guard at the question, you glare at Sylus’ resting figure and scoff, “not that it matters to you.”

“Well aren’t we getting married? it would be weird if you were seeing someone while we’re together, don’t you think, sweetie?”

You roll your eyes and step towards the door. You held onto the door knob and looked back at Sylus who was still lying down on the bed, “I need the bathroom..” you mutter, opening the door open to be met with Caleb waiting against the wall.

You carefully shut the door behind you and stepped towards him, “what are you doing ou-”

“Are we still going to see each other?” Caleb asked, his violet eyes glistened at your figure, raking his gaze down to your dress which he put on you.

You sputter out random words, not sure what to say. You glanced at your surroundings and soon grabbed onto Caleb’s wrist, dragging him to your room.

You pressed your finger against your lip and pointed to Sylus’ figure which was still asleep on your bed. Caleb’s gaze followed your finger and glared at the sight, he rolled his eyes and followed you out to the balcony.

Once you both reach your balcony you close the door shut and rest against the railing as you stared out the view, Caleb muttered nonsense under his breath and soon stepped closer towards you, his shaky hands grab onto your cheek as he grazed his thumb against your jaw, tracing small patterns on it.

“Then could we have our last round tonight? I mean it's not like you're married right now..” he reasoned, you stare at the tainted glass door and then back at Caleb, a beat of silence passed as you were deciding on what to say and eventually you nodded.

Caleb chuckled and pecked his lips on yours. You giggle and pull away, walking yourself back in as Caleb follows you in. but the second you walked in you were met with Sylus, who was awake, rubbing his eyes as he sat up on your bed, as if he just woke up, but you knew he didn't.

“Sylus, your room should be ready by now…you can go now.” you say, strutting towards him as you watch him grin and nod, lifting himself off of your bed and stretching his arms. He plopped his arms to his sides and leaned in closer to you, his death piercing gaze stared down at you.

“Come show me where the room is,” he whispered, backing away and looking back at Caleb who was standing against the bed frame with crossed arms, watching the whole scene ahead of him.

You stare between the two men and sigh, walking yourself out the room. Sylus followed momentarily and so did Caleb. After a minute walk across the hall you stood in front of Sylus’ room and pointed to the door.

“This is your room, enjoy.” you slightly bow at him and Sylus’ fingers made their way to the top of your head and lightly patted on it. You grumble something incoherent under your breath and Sylus chuckles.

“I’ll see you at dinner then.” he said before slipping into his room. You roll your eyes and turn to walk back to your room but Caleb stood in front of you, his large figure blocked your way to go back to your room and you stare up at him with a confused gaze.

“What is it?” you sigh, resting your hand on his shoulder as you push him aside so you could go back to your room. You heard Caleb’s footsteps grow louder and louder behind you as he followed you back to your room.

Once you made it to your room, not even a second had passed and Caleb pushed open the door dragging you along with it and soon carried you to your bed. You yelp in surprise when he lightly tossed you on the bed, your head bobbing up and down at the impact.

Caleb darted his tongue to your neck and sucked, nibbled and bit at almost every part of it. You grab onto his hair as your whimpers grow louder and louder. “Caleb–ngh...now?” you gasp as his sharp canines sunk deep in your skin.

“When, then?” he mumbled against your skin, vibrations sparked through your body as you arched your back in pleasure, seeking for more of his lips on you. When he noticed you weren't giving a proper response he smirked against your skin and slid his fingers to the back of your dress, toying with the zipper as he slowly pulled it down.

“C’mon, miss… tell me when we should do this?” Caleb breathed, pulling himself away from you and pulled the last bits of the zipper down, letting your sleeves drape down your shoulders. Caleb watched the whole scene unfold ahead of him, he grabbed onto your sleeves and pulled your dress off of you, and threw it aside, letting the fabric cause a small thud to echo through the room.

Caleb propped himself in front of you, his hands pressed against your knees as he spread your legs apart. He eyed down your whole figure and eventually dunk his head between your thighs, burying himself between them as his nose made contact with your clit. He bit against the fabric covering your cunt and slowly pulled your panties off.

The second you were left bare in front of him, he immediately put himself to work, his tongue worked his way inside your dripping cunt, lapping himself against you, tasting every juice of you, he already felt like he needed to ram his cock inside you immediately.

“Mmh. You taste s-so goo-ungh.. Good” he groaned against your puffed up lips, his voice sent vibrations through your body and you instinctively buck your hips towards him, silently asking for more of his touch.

You were already close to release and you tried to pull Caleb's head away from you, but he stayed put as he continued to fuck his tongue deep inside you. Your hips roll in pleasure as you ride out your orgasm on him.

Caleb sighed in relief when you came undone on his lips, he pulled away and licked his lips clean in front of you, grinning at your teary eyes beneath him. Caleb soon brought his fingers to his belt and swiftly removed it in a quick movement, before he could continue any further a couple of knocks interrupted the moment.

“Who is it?” you ask, getting up from the bed and slipping on a robe, walking towards the door and wrapped your fingers around the door knob. Before flinging it open to be met with…

Fucking Sylus.

You face flushes in a pink tone and you clear your throat looking back at Caleb who sat at the edge of the bed, glaring down at you with crossed arms as he fanned his hand at you, indicating you could talk to Sylus.

You turn your head back at Sylus who was looking down at you with a curious look, his gaze gawking down your figure, eyes lingering on the small bite marks drawn against your neck. He instinctively brought his fingers to the marks and traced along them.

“So you’re still going to see him after our first day together?” Sylus mumbled, sliding his fingers lower and soon stopped when they were just inches away from your cleavage. He continued to stare down at you as he waited for an answer.

“I thought.. I mean we aren't married yet?” you chuckle awkwardly and step further away when you felt Sylus’ presence creep closer and closer to you. He eventually made his way inside your room and looked at Caleb who was still sitting at the edge of the bed with that slightly angry face on his face.

“We aren't married yet, but we still agreed to be with each other today, yet you still went along and got with your little servant who seems to love you very much.”

You couldn't bring yourself to say any words, you didn't know how to respond to what Sylus was saying, all you did was continue walking backwards as Sylus walked forward. But without watching your surroundings you mistakenly tripped on your dress that was lying on the ground and landed against Caleb.

Caleb immediately wrapped his arms around you, keeping you in place on his lap. You chuckled awkwardly and stared at Sylus who was leaning in closer, and close–

“Just needed this.” he mumbled, his face centimeters away from you as his arm reached your bedside table so he could grab his bracelet.

“Seriously? You could've just taken it the next day.” you glare at Sylus who still wasn't moving from his spot. He tilted his head to the side and chuckled, a cold, mocking laugh left his lips. It echoed through the room as you continued to stare at him with a straight face.

“You want me to leave that bad, sweetie?” he said, resting his hand against your thighs, “just so you could continue what the both of you were doing?” he asked as if it was a rhetorical question. But it was true, it was an unexpected meeting you both had and you thought he came at such bad timing.

“Okay…if I said it was, what would you say?”

“Nothing.” he mumbled, inching himself closer and closer towards you, his lips just being seconds away from yours. Your eyes widened when you felt Caleb pull you away from him. Sylus chucked and continued to stare into your eyes as his hand continued to grip on your thighs.

“What exactly is the point of this meeting, between the two of you?” he asked, glaring at you before shining his bright ruby eyes at Caleb who was staring back at him in the same manner.

“None of your concern,” Caleb muttered, snaking his fingers up your body and groping on your tits, Sylus’ eyes averted to the scene and he slid his finger along your jaw, staring into your eyes.

“Pick one…” Sylus asked, brushing his fingertip against your lips and watched as your tongue instinctively darted on his rough skin.

Sylus continued to slowly, yet carefully shove his fingers inside your mouth, and Caleb continued to play with your tits as you tried thinking of your answer.

“A measly servant, or your prince?”

-

Too much in a daze to even comprehend what was going on, the next thing you felt was Sylus pressed behind you and Caleb’s lower half of his body nuzzled against your face. Your eyes widened as Sylus’ cold fingertips grazed against your skin, soft patterns sparked through your body and you soon felt another pair of hands slide through your hair.

Did you really choose both?

You silently cursed yourself and felt Caleb yank your head back and press his dripping tip against your slightly parted, glossed lips. He continued to slowly shove his length inside your mouth, the feeling of his large length stretching your lips made you whine in pleasure.

Sylus had his hand rested on your lower back as he slowly pressed down on it, making your back arch instinctevely. He slid his fingers to your already stretched out cunt and pressed against it, before raising your hips up and pressing his tip against your soaking entrance.

A loud muffled moan escaped your lips when you felt Sylus gently shove his length deep inside you, he thrusted himself in a quick movement and you stare up at Caleb with teary eyes as he grinned down at you before grabbing onto the sides of your head and shoved his full length deep down your throat.

“Both, huh?” Caleb chuckled, glaring at Sylus as his pace was going quicker and quicker by the second, you felt like your throat was going to rip off at the strong impact he was giving your mouth. A loud moan escaped Caleb's lips when he felt your tongue swirl around his length, he grabbed onto you with a tighter grip and continued to rock himself against you.

Sylus noticed his reaction and a mocking smirk rested on his lips, he shoved his full length inside you which jolted you flinch in surprise. You tried to chant your release but neither of the men were pulling away.

You then felt Sylus’ chest rest against your back as he slid his arms around your waist, and soon pressed his fingers against your lower stomach, pressing against his bulge that sent a wave of pleasure spark through you.

“Sy–mmph”

“Hm?”

“I.. ‘m close” you mutter, somehow the words came out in a clear speech and Sylus just nodded against you and took a deep breath.

“So am I.”

Before you could say or do anything, spurs of Sylus’ white mixture coated your insides and you gasped in shock, and pleasure. You whine against Caleb as he slowly pulled himself away and before he could fully pull himself out of you, he also came, right in your mouth.

He pulls his cock out of you and you cough, trying to catch your breath from the scene that just happened. You plop against Caleb’s lap as your breaths steady, both Sylus and Caleb stroked your warm skin.

“So.. which one are you choosing now?” Sylus asked, leaning in closer.

You roll your eyes and close your eyes shut.

“I’m not doing this again.”

sorry If this is so dumb and rushed HELP