#they say fighting is a form of foreplay right?

[stebeans]

Arcane F1AU

Switching over to Vi's pov. Takes place in the '24 race season, in both Caitvi's third season in F1. Vi with Janna Shimmer Wolf Racing (SW for short) and Caitlyn with Kiramman Racing (KR for short).

Warnings: multiple minor car crashes, swearing

Things get heated between their career long rivalry until it finally boils over for the world to see. Vi's a bit of a [justifiable?] dick. Caitlyn is a naive baby and oblivious to how much weight her family name holds. Special appearances by Jinx, Isha, Loris and Vander.

The Gloves are Off

Damacia Grand Prix

Under the dreary weather of Demacia's Great City Circuit, the paddock thrummed with controlled chaos. Pit crews scrambled to have their equipment checked and in place, the engineers coordinating with the mechanics in order to set up any last minute adjustments to the cars to suit the downpour of rain, and the drivers coordinating with the race engineers to run through the finalized strategies.

Stretching her neck, Vi pumped her shoulders up and down, throwing a couple shadowboxing jabs for good measure, calmly going over her superstitious routine formed back when she was karting and barely four feet tall. "Careful out there Vi. It's pouring much harder than in qualifying." Her sister and Shimmer Wolf's Chief Mechanic, warned as she handed over the balaclava as Vi finished slipping her arms through the sleeves of the black and red race suit, intersperse by various sponsors.

"Why is Demacia always raining?" Vi whined, pulling the balaclava over her already tousled hair.

"It's not always raining." Jinx replied, playfully poking Vi's ticklish spot along her side, earning an uncharacteristic squeal from Vi who's head had gotten caught in the balaclava. Isha, the officially adopted daughter of Jinx and unofficially adopted daughter for all of Shimmer Wolf, let out a giggle from beside her, dutifully gripping the driver's helmet in her small yet careful hands. "It's just usually rainy season when we race here. You should visit in the spring when the weather is warmer and the sun makes an appearance for more than a couple hours a day."

Vi, who had finally shoved her head through, shot Jinx a glare as she held her hands out protectively against her weak spot. "I would love to but we don't all have girlfriend's who own a freaking castle in Demacia to visit in the off-season." Vi teased, dodging another half-hearted attempt poke to her tickle spot.

"Not my girlfriend." Jinx muttered, deftly ignoring Isha's imploring look and Vi's stupidly annoying grin.

Shaking her head, Vi turned to Isha, who threw her a thumbs up as she smoothed the protective gear around her neck and tucked it into her racing suit before zipping up. "Okay kiddos, it's go time."

Vi held out fist to Jinx and Isha, both knocking their own fists against hers before climbing into the cockpit and settling into its familiar seat, almost a second home to her by now and was quite literally, molded to fit her ass. Reaching over, Vi accepted the helmet from Isha, ruffling the kid's brown mop of hair as thanks, who let out an exasperated huff, so much like Jinx, Vi couldn't help but chuckle.

Securing the race helmet in place, Vi reached out for the last of her gear. The race gloves were always the last to be put on. Vi slipped her signature wrapped hands into the gloves, flexing as she got a feel for them before resting them onto the steering wheel, turning the wheel right to left and feeling the car respond in kind.

"You ready Vi?" Loris, her race engineer sparked into her earpiece.

"Aren't I always?"

"You're clear to go for formation lap." He announced, just as the pit crew member of her motioned her car forward, ensuring both Jinx and Isha were in the clear.

Applying the gas, Vi inched the car forwards and out of the garage, the crowd thundering as they watched car by car exit out of the pit lane. The excitement was infectious as it roared from the crowd and settled deep within Vi's bones.

Later on

"Time to car behind is 1.576 seconds. It's Kiramman in P4."

Son of a bitch, Vi thought. She had been trying to shake Kiramman all race long to no avail. She shouldn't have been surprised with the way Kiramman had woven through the mid-field along with her when they had both qualified P8 and P9 respectively.

Turn 8 was coming up, notorious for running drivers off the track with the sharp angle. Biting her lip, Vi risked a glance at her side mirror, seeing nothing but water spray from her tires. Fuck, she couldn't see shit. Deciding to brake late, Vi went into the corner hot, typical of her racing style, rain or not, and was nearly clear of the corner when she felt something heavy just fucking slam into the right side of her chassis, knocking her head to the side as she struggled to control the car as she spun out from the collision.

"Oh nooooo!" The commentator exclaimed over the collective gasps from the crowds in the stands. "Looks like both Lanes and Kiramman are out of the race after that heavy crash! Both appear to be okay but that's the end of the race for them. Unfortunately the rain didn't do them any favors with low visibility and threatened tire grip."

"Agreed Marty, that clash between the titans was unavoidable. Looks like Lanes didn't see Kiramman in her blind spot going into the corner with the amount of water spray. And Kiramman caught too much of the curb going inside and that was all it took for her car to spin into Lanes. Not much you could do to avoid that."

"Disappointing race weekend for the both of them. They won't be happy with that DNF, especially Kiramman who had a DNF last week after touching wheels with the other Shimmer Wolf driver, Sevika, who slipped past in P3 after that racing incident."

"Shimmer Wolf sure is putting up a fight against Kiramman, both tough drivers who don't know the meaning of backing down. I'm sure team principal Marcus will have some words with his supposedly lead driver, heir or not to Kiramman Racing."

Vi barely acknowledged Caitlyn as she stormed towards the Shimmer Wolf garage, hands jerking angrily as she pulled off her racing helmet and gloves. She wasn't going to need it considering she had been run off track and into the barriers by the Kiramman Racing driver who was still stubbornly tailing her as she had all weekend long. Anger boiling over, Vi whipped around, shoving a finger into Caitlyn's chest, causing the blue haired driver to ground into an abrupt halt should she bowl them both over. "Why don't you fuck right off Kiramman." Vi growled, barely noticing the film crew hovering anxiously around the two, cameras steady and rolling. "Haven't you done enough damage already?"

"You surely aren't suggesting that crash was my fault?" She replied indignantly, her posh accent just grating against Vi's nerves.

Vi rolled her eyes, faintly aware of the way her drenched bangs stuck annoyingly against her forehead, a couple strands nearly poking her eye out. "Of course not." She snarked. "How dare I ever accuse the Perfect Piltie Princess of making a mistake."

Eyes narrowed dangerously, a spark of intensity simmering beneath the vibrant blues. Caitlyn knocked Vi's pointed finger away as she crossed her arms - the surprisingly toned arms highlighting against her wet racing suit with the way the fabric now clung to her lean yet athletically toned figure from the rain. Vi supposed she was quite valiant in the way she forced her eyes to maintain focus on Caitlyn's face and not on... other features.

"Come on Cupcake, I was ahead in the corner, I had the inside line. You didn't have room for that shit overtake to begin with."

Vi watched with concealed interest as Caitlyn worked her jaw back and forth. She had to admit, the Kiramman before her was a steel fortress when it came to keeping her emotions in check. Today however, appeared that the seemingly perfect mask was cracking. And Vi was going to enjoy shattering it completely.

"Doesn't really matter does it? We all know how the stewards will call it even after they "review" the footage. Must be nice to have the FIA in your back pocket."

Caitlyn's jaw clenched down so tightly Vi was surprised she didn't crack a molar. "Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about."

Vi lifted her hands in mock surrender. "Hey now. I'm just saying aloud what everyone else is thinking."

Caitlyn shook her head indignantly, brushing past Vi with a shove to her shoulder. "Oh piss off."

"Go fuck a duck!"

Freljord Grand Prix - one week later

"Vi." Loris' voice chimed in her ears. "Stewards has announced that the overtake on Turn 17 was illegal. We've been ordered to give the position back to Kiramman."

"Fuck!" Vi shouted, knocking her head back into the seat and slamming her hand down on the wheel. "Can we dispute it? I was clean going into that corner and you know it. It's not my fault the Piltie Princess can't handle the pressure and locked up. If she knew how to drive she would've been able to keep her car on track."

"We're looking into it. In the meanwhile we need to give the position back."

Ignoring the directive, Vi shifted gears, pushing her car even faster through the chicane. The Shimmer Wolf model was a beast in turns. "Vi." Loris sounded exasperated. "Do you copy? Give the position back."

From the side mirror Vi caught the navy and gold car weaving through the chicane smooth as butter which only made her blood boil even more. Almost too easily, the Kiramman driver caught up despite the lock up and slight detour off track. The front wing of the Kiramman car was nearly touching her rear tires and Vi gripped her wheel even tighter. "This is wrong and you know it."

Even through the mic, Vi could hear the deep sigh. "I know Vi but we need to give the position back. You'll get her again. We just need to keep it clean."

Vi shook her head. Keep it clean? She has been clean all race long. The only one racing dirty was the annoying driver currently on her ass. Bending rules and regulations to suit her wins, having the FIA in her corner and God knows who else, fuck it was all just unfair. How naive Vi was to think it'll be an even playing field as she entered the F1 circuit. It wasn't like Janna Shimmer Wolf Racing was desperate for coin. They had a reliable engine, genius engineers and a supportive all-round team. It was vastly different from when she grew up forced to race Frankenstein-karts, pieces and parts salvaged and put together with meticulous care (and a whole lot of prayers) just to be able to compete with the big guns.

Jinx and her had been the laughing stock at every single damn race. Not one but two drivers from Zaun of all places was almost unheard of, not since Vander and Silco's era. And they treated them with as much respect like the two black marks staining the otherwise prestige sport everyone thought they were.

They were on the straight and any other time, Vi would've been pushing her engine to it's extent, draining every ounce of battery to gain as much time but with the Loris' orders in her ear she lifted her foot off the pedal just enough for the car to slow to allow the Kiramman car to pass.

Anger surged through her at the unjust predicament. Honestly she couldn't think of anything beyond the constant mantra of "unfair, unfair, unfair" as it drummed and bounced inside her head, the chanting getting louder and louder with every passing second, her vision nearly painted red in anger with it all.

Flicking her eye to the mirror, Vi watched as the Kiramman car start to make its move, sliding smoothly to the right in order to make the pass. The front wing of the navy and gold car was just a little over half clear to the right when Vi tapped her brakes just long enough for her car to slow immensely. Bracing for impact, she felt the Kiramman car plow top speed into her rear, clearly not anticipating the move.

"FUCKING HELL VI!" Loris screamed, his voice nearly blowing out her ear drums.

She felt the back of her car crumple after the hit as both cars skidded across the track only coming to a stop when they slammed into the barriers, mixed pieces of debris flying through the air and scattering across the track, jarring both drivers from the collision. Over the ringing in her ears, Loris' non-stop cursing, she heard the shocked gasp of the grandstand as the formerly P2 and P3 was knocked out of the race with less than 10 laps remaining.

"Red flag, red flag."

Yeah no shit, Vi thought wryly, eyeing the red flag waving on the sidelines just meters from her and the crash.

While the Kiramman car had ended sideways in the barriers, Vi ended up perpendicular to the track, allowing her to observe every fucking remaining car drive past her. Her angle also provided her with an unobstructed view of the Kiramman driver. The reaction from the crowd, just behind her was deafening. She could hear muffled taunting and curses, surprised that most of them were directed at the Kiramman driver and not herself, especially after that admittedly dick kamikaze move.

The gleaming gold race helmet - pretentious, Vi thought snidely - shook in disbelief and Vi supposed she was lucky she wasn't able to hear what had to be a string of that annoying posh shit that Piltie's passed as cursing, as Caitlyn repeatedly punched her steering wheel in frustration.

Vi smirked despite herself. Good to know that the Kiramman driver was prone to emotions other than detached coolness.

In the corner of her eye she could see the safety car deploy, and Vi revved the engine, pleased to hear it running, her tires squealing in place. "How's the car Vi?"

Testing the gas as soon as the last of the cars were passed and she was in the clear, Vi urged the car forward. It wasn't going to be pretty but granted the pit lane wasn't too far off she was sure she could limp the car as graciously as she could back to the garage.

Amusedly, she noted that Kiramman wasn't afforded that luxury, her left front tire was completely wrecked and blown, the front wing or what was left of it dangled precariously from the crushed nose and the other tire barely hung onto its axel. Yeah, that car was done for and it appeared that Kiramman had came to the same conclusion, pressing the button that shut off the engine, than working her nimble fingers to loosen the steering wheel from the shaft before unbuckling herself from the six-point safety harness. The crowd jeered and booed as the driver slipped out, shoulders hunched over dejectedly as she observed for a moment the extent of the damages before waving off the race marshall who had came bolting up the sidelines to check on their conditon, before vaulting over the concrete divider separating the track from the narrow pathway leading to the pit lane. That's gotta be one hell of a walk of shame, Vi thought.

"Vi. We need to talk when you return."

It wasn't Loris in her earpiece anymore. Fuck. She could practically feel his disappointment in that sentence alone. "Yeah, I hear you Vander."

Vi had just climbed out of the cockpit, where she parked the damaged car just in front of her garage, pulling and shoving her racing gloves into her suit pockets when she heard the startled shouts of her SW pit crew. "Hey you can't be here! Get the hell out!" Vi heard Mylo yell out.

Undeterred footsteps echoed against the pavement as Vi turned towards the commotion, an inkling of what was to come.

"What in the ever loving hell was that Lanes?" Caitlyn stormed from down the pit lane, catching everyone's attention in the vicinity. Instantly the media personnel allowed in the paddock gathered, they could smell the juicy story in the air and the ever alert documentary crew had their cameras poised at the clashing drivers in excitement. Distantly she could feel her crew coming in to support her as well. Vi clocked the way Jinx had stood slowly from where she had been observing the damages.

Vi supposed by the time she had gingerly lumbered her car through the pit lane and with Caitlyn Kiramman's freakishly long legs, they were bound to arrive at nearly the same time.

"Don't know what you're talking 'bout Cupcake." Vi shrugged, attempting to walk away. She could see Vander make his way from the pit wall, a look of concern and disappointment apparent across his features and her blood boiled. "I was slowing down to give you the pass. Can't blame me you don't know how to make a clean overtake for a position you don't deserve."

"Don't play coy Lanes." Caitlyn growled. "That was a shit dirty move and you know it. Brake checking me in the middle of a race? That was reckless and juvenile. There's no place for such games in F1, grow the fuck up."

Vi let out a dark chuckle. "You fucking want to talk about driving dirty? You better take a good long look in the mirror before you go around lecturing me about playing dirty. This was a long time coming Piltie Princess."

With a shout, Caitlyn hurled her helmet and HANS device to the ground, uncaring where it had bounced and landed as she surged forward, fisting a handful of Vi's racing suit between her fingers. No Zaunite worth their shit would ever allow someone to lay hands on them and Vi, well, she was the the scrappiest of all Zaunites. Her own bandaged hands came up instinctively, her hands gripping Caitlyn's collar and shoving her back none too gently, genuinely surprised when Caitlyn held on.

Blood rushed to her head, heart thumping inside her chest that all she could hear and see was the Kiramman driver in front of her, not even registering as other hands shot out to hold her back. Not realizing how they had pulled and shoved at Caitlyn as well. The cries of "hey, let it go!" and "no fighting in the paddock!" fell on deaf ears.

"You don't know fuck all about me!" Caitlyn shouted, shoving forward, her fist nearly throat punching Vi with all the jostling happening around them.

"You fucking Pilties are all the same! And you, Kiramman, are the worst of the worst!"

Vi returned the jab, her elbow catching Caitlyn across the jaw and knocking the driver off balance for a second.

Around them the crowd thundered as they shouted out encouragements and taunts, just as caught up in the moment as the drivers, their skirmish was being broadcasted on the big screen for all to see, no one interested in the race that was still happening in the background.

"HEY!" Vander's voice boomed above the cacophony. "KNOCK IT OFF RIGHT NOW!" Two large hands gripped tightly to the collars of both drivers, easily ripping the two apart where the previously six pair of hands could barely get the two to separate.

The roar in Vi's ears began to settle, the post-fight feeling she hadn't experienced since her teenage years was slowly wearing off. "Vi, walk away. Now." Vander commanded before turning to Caitlyn with narrowed eyes. "And you. Don't ever fucking touch my driver again. You understand me Kiramman?"

Turning her nose slightly up, Caitlyn nodded stiffly. "Now fucking get out of here before you two make a bigger mess out of this shit." He said, shoving them both away.

Rage simmering and appropriately chastised Vi turned on her heels, whipping her race helmet off her head and slamming it on the ground as she stormed through the garage, ignoring the voices from the commentators droning in the background from the wall mounted tv.

"Looks like the rivalry between Lanes and Kiramman has finally come to a boil after a season long of tussles, penalties and crashes and we're only half way through! Both drivers caught on camera in an honest to god fisticuffs just in front of the Shimmer Wolf driver's garage. Are we watching amateur boxing or F1 racing for crying out loud?"

"I don't know Marty, but I can tell you that the fans ate that up. Heated emotions and passion is what both drivers showed us today. It's good entertainment at least."

"Yeah well if I'm Kiramman Racing's team principal I wouldn't be impressed with that showing. Come on, third DNF in a row? With how much in car damages to date? And duking it out in the paddock? You might freaking bloody think this is Kiramman's first year in karting! You'd expect better from someone like her."

"One hundred percent agree with you there Marty and going by the boos from the crowd I think you've got more than a handful of people in agreement. But let's be real here. This is Caitlyn Kiramman for god's sake. Her own team isn't going to replace her, not when mommy and daddy has a say."

"Well that's just the crux of it all, isn't it?"

Three weeks later in the midst of "silly season" Kiramman Racing announces that they've dropped lead driver Caitlyn Kiramman for the upcoming '25 F1 season.

TBC

Previously:

F1 Caitlyn Headcanon:

https://www.tumblr.com/stebeans/769238244811505664/arcane-f1au-my-headcanon?source=share

Caitlyn's F1 Interview

https://www.tumblr.com/stebeans/770436973830848512/arcane-f1au?source=share

Caitlyn's g!p sexy times:

https://www.tumblr.com/stebeans/770640335450849280/arcane-f1au?source=share

[evnseokz]

Drunk!heeseung x Sober!Reader trope when hee is so needy but the members are there so he pulls you into a closet or smthn for a quickie BUT the members hear you n heeseungs lovemaking n r MASSIVE teases 😝

{ ☆ quickie ~ l.hs }

pairing: tipsy bf! heeseung x sober! f. reader

contents: alcohol use, quick sex, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t!), no foreplay, no clear power play, kissing, dirty talk, pet name baby, sex in a closet lmao

an: ty for the request!! i struggled with writing the members teasing them for some reason so i hope this is okay! wc 1k

MINORS DNI

“baby, please?” heeseung pleaded, his wide eyes filled with desperation, his cheeks flushed with a soft pink, and the lingering scent of alcohol on his breath. 

you glanced over at the living room, where the members were still gathered. “hee, the guys are right there,” you pointed out, motioning toward the group. heeseung had followed you into the kitchen as soon as you stood up to grab some water, his plea hanging in the air, urging you to go somewhere alone with him. 

his arms hung around your waist as you sipped from your water, his frontside pressing into your back, making sure you could feel how needy he truly was. he swayed lightly behind you, lips forming a pout. “i need you, please. ill be quick.” his breath tickled your ear as he spoke, the action sending shivers through your skin. you hated how much of an effect he had on you in such a short time. 

 you sigh, turning around in his grasp to look him in the eyes. “fine, but we have to be fast.” heeseungs eyes light up with satisfaction, and you barely get a chance to set your cup down before heeseung is tugging you by your arm behind him. heeseung scans the area for a moment before pulling you into the nearest closet. you silently curse at him for choosing such a small, cramped space, but you don’t argue. 

heeseung is quick to lock the door behind you two, pressing you into it, wedging his knee between your legs as his lips find your neck. a whimper escapes your lips at the action, wetness already pooling between your legs as you tug on your boyfriend's belt. heeseungs lips have found yours now, melding perfectly in sync as your tongues fight for dominance. you finally get his belt undone, unbuttoning his pants next as he hikes your skirt up your hips. his fingers slip under your panties, slotting between your lips as he feels how wet you are. 

he chuckles slightly, the scent of alcohol fanning over your face as he does so. “so wet, baby, you’d think this was your idea.” you roll your eyes in response, instead pulling his hardened cock out of his pants and stroking him a few times. “just- hurry, please,” you breathed. heeseung wastes no time, removing his hand from your heat and hoisting you up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. he pushes your panties to the side, rubbing the head of his cock between your folds as you whine.

he loves how needy you’ve become, even though this whole thing was his idea in the first place. his tip prods at your entrance before he pushes in slowly, bottoming out in one go as you clench harshly around him, a loud moan falling from your lips. his hand flies over your mouth, muffling your sounds as he begins to move inside you. “shh, quiet, baby, they’re going to hear you,” he says, almost mockingly. you scowl at him with your eyes, eliciting a low laugh from heeseung. 

his hips snap into yours at a fast pace, quick and desperate for release. the loud wet noises coming from where you’re connected, creating a stark contrast with the quietness of the dark closet that surrounds you. heeseungs hand remains over your mouth, and thank god for it because if it weren’t, then his fellow members definitely would be able to hear you. 

heeseungs breathing becomes labored as he approaches his high, his free hand coming down to circle your swollen nub, wanting nothing more than for you to cum at the same time as him. you feel your stomach tighten as the stimulation from your clit and his cock begins to overwhelm you; your legs begin to tingle, and everything just feels so good. “fuck baby, cum for me,” heeseung purred into your ear, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he held out for your release. 

your eyes roll to the back of your head as your legs shake around him, your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. your tight walls spasming around heeseungs cock sends him over the edge, his seed spilling into you as his thrusts slow. once you’ve both rode out your highs, heeseung exits your sweet cunt, and his hand removes itself from over your mouth. 

your legs fall from his waist, but you remain holding onto him, your legs weak from being in the same position for too long. he steadies you as you try to catch your breath. “you look so pretty like this,” heeseung smiled at you, and a blush coats your cheeks at the compliment, finally letting go of him to fix your clothing. heeseung fixes himself too, and you both exit the closet as quietly as possible, trying your best to sneak back into the living room like nothing happened. 

when you sit back down, you notice a mischievous look on the boys faces. you’re sure they had to have known what happened. your cheeks heat up red as you try to focus on the tv in front of you, pushing the possible embarrassment to the back of your mind. jungwon is the first to speak up, “fuck baby! cum for me!” he says in a mocking tone, causing laughter to erupt amongst the members. you cover your face with your hands, your entire being burning red with embarrassment.

“if you guys wanted to fuck, y’all could’ve just gone upstairs and freed us from the live audio session,” jake laughed, sunghoon nodding in agreement. sunoo rolled his eyes playfully at the boys next to him, “just let us know next time so we can turn the tv volume up!” he chuckled, jay and riki agreeing silently, laughter threatening to escape their lips. heeseung shakes his head at his members, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“you guys are just jealous that we got some and you didn't.” 

…

..

.

[reignpage]

Restrained Beast

in which you tie up boyfriend!Konig

warnings: 18+ mdni, rope, bondage, cursing, suffocation, size kink, power play, slight dubcon, cowgirl, missionary, spitting, primal, prey, slight dacryphillia

the universe had blessed you with a once in a lifetime gift in the form of your big and strong boyfriend finally allowing you to tie him up. it was quite ridiculous actually, wrestling him into position, straddling his bare chest as you tied a rope around his wrists, looping it through the gap in your headboard. konig was a huge man, he took up the entire expanse of your bed, and you weren’t confident the rope would hold him. 

if he wasn’t so compliant, there was no way you would have ever managed to lift even just one arm into position; it weighed a ton. he was pure muscle, carved from years of military service, crafted to be the perfect battering ram. every flex could kill, he could smother you in your sleep with his heavy torso, even step on you if he wasn’t so careful. and god, did you love it. 

he was pure strength, the perfect killer, and yet there he was, peering up at you with a light blush and a small smile. his blond chest hair was coarse under your palms as you met his stare with a grin. konig had needed a little convincing to agree to your idea; in fact, it required a lot of begging and promises that you’d make it worth his while. 

the concept of being suppressed went against every instinct in his body, but how could he say no to his beautiful girl? so cute and so sweet, politely asking with big eyes and a pout. he wanted to make you happy, always. so there he was, lying patiently, completely naked under you. he tested the rope and felt pride warming his chest (and his cock) at his angel who clearly did her research, wanting to do it right, for him. 

“schatz, ride my cock, ja?” 

said cock was pointing to the ceiling, perfectly proportionate to his gigantic stature. it was always a struggle getting him inside you; you needed a lot of foreplay, and konig was more than happy to oblige every time. he would spend hours focused on you, making you ride his thigh, fingers, and face. he worshiped your pussy like it was the holy grail, lapping at your essence as if he couldn’t get enough. 

he overstimulated you every time, but you knew he didn’t mean to, right? you knew he just had a tendency to get lost in the taste of you, your scent overwhelmed him, and oh how he loved the feeling of your plush thighs squeezing his head. and when you would pull his hair in a desperate attempt to make him stop, his eyes would roll back before pinning down your frantic hips with an arm thrown over your stomach, diving back in with greater fervour. 

you bit your lip, nodding shyly as you scooted down his body, soaking pussy grazing his stomach. it made his happy trail shine under the dim light of the bedside lamp. you loved the hair, the feeling of it tickling you, the way it was barely visible unless you were pressed right to his crotch, and you often were. 

quickly rubbing your clit, you exhaled, physically and mentally preparing yourself to take him again. no matter how many times you had played with that part of him, you never got over how intimidating his cock was. everything about him was intimidating, it was one of the reasons he rarely left your shared home; people always stared. 

clutching his cock, you lined him up with your quivering hole, gulping as you pushed down. a pleasurable burn made you hiss, head thrown back as you heaved. every inch made you fuller and fuller until you felt like you couldn’t take any more, but one glance down and you realised you weren’t even half way down. 

how was that even possible?

“all of it, maus.”

you shook your head in a panic, your fight or flight instincts triggered. 

“ja, you can take it. you always do.”

könig pulled at his restraints with more force than he had intended, rattling the bed frame. he was itching to touch you, to blanket your tits with his palm and pinch at your nipples. the man wanted to feel your skin, pull your front down against him so he could kiss you, smother your whines with his mouth and push down every protest with his tongue. 

god, he just wanted to grip your hips and pull you down till he was buried to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix in the way he knew you loved. konig had been on edge the entire time, he wasn’t used to not being in control, not like this, where he was completely helpless. 

but knowing he was at your mercy made him leak pre-cum like a faucet. 

eventually, with lots of praise and encouragement, he was in. you needed a second to adjust, to will away that burn as he stretched you to your limits, split you in half.

he might have complained when you initially brought it up, but you could tell he loved this just as much as you did if the incessant throbbing inside of you was anything to go by. his skin was cool to the touch, his sweat making it

slightly difficult to get a grip but you persevered, lifting your hips a little before letting gravity do its thing in an experimental stroke. it lit a fire inside of you and you knew you needed more. 

“you’re doing so well for me.”

“just - hah- like that, schatz.”

“fuck, liebling, so good -ngh- for me.”

his every praise and groan fuelled your thrusts and grinding, ignoring the ache of your muscles, intent only in making both of you cum. and with the way the head of his cock was pressing against that spongey spot inside of you, you weren’t going to take long. 

könig threw his head back when you lifted your hips as high up as you could before slamming down with a splat, juices flying and making both of your skin sticky. a white ring of cum was forming around his base and he would watch it dribble down all day if he could. 

your sobs were music to his ears, so breathy and uninhibited, he couldn’t believe he was making you feel that way. never thought he’d have such a good girl loving his monstrous body, obsessed with his freak of a nature stature, but there you were, a blissed out expression on your face as you held your tits in your hands, muttering his name again and again. 

like a plea thrown in the wind, you heard your name calling to you through the fog of pleasure. konig was looking up at you in the way he always did when he wanted one thing. the realisation that he wanted every part of you made you clench down on him, and you both moaned.

and of course, how could you disappoint your precious boyfriend? so you lean closer to him, breaths mingling as you teased him with a graze of your lips against his. he opened his mouth, but you couldn't help yourself; you swerved to the right and sucked at his skin, at the junction where his shoulders met his neck. he was so much bigger than you, you had to stretch to reach his chin.

he tasted salty and clean, like a glacier. he tasted like the love of your life. and you didn't think you'd ever get your fill. only his cockhead sheathed in your warm pussy; you had to climb the expanse of his body to reach you destination and when he growled your name, you knew you couldn't tease him any longer.

so with a playful scold, you gave him a love tap on his cheek, giggling at the flutter of his lashes. thumbing his plush bottom lip, you drawled, "open wide, koni baby."

and without looking away, you spat into his mouth and watched enthralled at the hasty swallow. there was no hesitation, no reluctance. only pure satisfaction as he pulled at his restraints again. it was like he had forgotten his predicament, so caught in your taste and smell, and the way your hips were swivelling around the head of his cock as you leaned back, pussy greedily swallowing his entire length once again.

you were so close, mewls getting louder and higher, whining every time your clit rubbed the hair on his pelvis just right, and pinching your nipples the way he would. he wanted to bring you there, wanted both of you to reach your high, and he couldn’t wait. no, he was desperate, needed you to move faster, to slam on his cock harder, just the way you like, the way you needed him to. 

perhaps, if either of you weren’t so caught up in the maddening hedonism, then you would heard the creaking of fibres being pulled apart. 

riding his cock wantonly, you moaned like a siren, uncaring about the neighbours who were no doubt in the middle of filing a complaint. again. and when konig jutted his hips upwards, you moaned even louder, stars sparkling behind closed eyes. you could feel him everywhere and yet it wasn't enough.

“kon, so close, ‘m so close.”

snap!

you barely registered it over the cacophony of your moans, the squeaking of the bed and the slamming of the headboard. but the big hands suddenly grasping your hips in an unforgiving grip was unmistakable, and when he lifted you up and heaved you down, a scream being rammed out of you, you knew your big bad boyfriend had broken free of his restraints. 

anyone else would have feared for their lives, having a ferocious beast be on the loose, but you barely had time to think about the terrifying glint in his eyes before he was throwing you onto your back and jackhammering into your sopping pussy like he was battering through the heaviest door. 

you were speechless, mouth hanging open in a perpetual o shape as your eyes rolled back, hands clutching at the sheets and then at his shoulders, clawing down his back. you needed to ground yourself, it was too much too fast, but you had nowhere to go, his body was pinning you down, your face buried in his chest. konig was suffocating you, chest hair tickled your face as you gasped, and he was knocking all the air out of your lungs with every merciless thrust. 

he was using your body like a flashlight, not a single regard for your pleasure or your life. it was exhilarating. only he could drag you to the edge of life and make you feel so much pleasure you forgot your name. 

“cum for me, schatz. need you to cum on my cock.”

you screamed into his chest, eyes screwed shut as waves and waves of rapture washed over you, dragging you in an undercurrent of euphoria and pure ecstasy. his lips stuttered at the feel of your cunt squeezing his cock, wringing a sudden orgasm out of him. konig roared, plunging into you with one final jab, cum pulsing out of him, painting your insides white. it burned your insides, a gasp grazing past your lips.

it was always so so so good with him. every. time. you were addicted. just as he was. now that he had a taste of what it was like to be restrained, you hoped he would want to do it again. although, you felt personally offended it didn’t last as long as you expected; he had broken free so easily, it was insulting. 

he huffed a laugh in your ear when he felt you pout. konig kissed every inch of skin he could reach whilst keeping his softening cock inside of you, a silent thank you for giving him more happiness and pleasure than he thought he deserved. 

“you need to tie it harder next time, ja, maus? make it more difficult for me.” 

damn right you’d make it more difficult for him. 

cocky austrian.

[bbokicidal]

So Little Time, So Much To Do. | SKZ [L.F.]

Genre : Smut Pairing : Chicken Hybrid!Lee Felix x Fem!Reader Warnings : Sexual Content (MDNI), Edging, Lots of Foreplay Notes : Day 1 of 4 from the BbokiDwae Collab with @dwaekkicidal! Y'all wanted Chicken Lix, y'er gettin' Chicken Lix.

At the end of this post there are some footnotes of general mating behaviors related to chickens (which i had to BRAVELY look up on google.) - so if you are confused at any point on Felix's behavior, you can scroll down quick to take a look.

Hybrid!Felix who is so, so giddy every time you agree to be intimate with him. He doesn't outwardly express that he wants to have sex, but he has behaviors that you pick up on to know exactly what it is he's trying to persuade you into doing with him. (Consensually, of course.)

Hybrid!Felix who gets bouncy when he's horny. He'd hop a bit in place when he sees you making breakfast at the stove, or stands a little too close to you to get your attention when you aren't looking at him. He does anything to grab your attention, actually, because his instincts say that he has to make sure your eyes are on him and only him.

Hybrid!Felix who blinks with wide eyes when you pull him to the bedroom, legs a bit wobbly and hand squeezing yours where you hold onto him. He'd expected to just do it right then and there, but you were going somewhere more comfortable. (Though this is just because Felix is quite shameless and would have sex w/ you on the balcony if it were up to him.)

Hybrid!Felix who you have to take a bit of control of in the bedroom. You know why? Because Felix comes in less than two minutes.

Hybrid!Felix who you have realized is incredibly easy to relentlessly tease because he's constantly very, very confused in the bedroom and fighting his own instincts. His body and brain are yelling at him to breed you but his heart and adoration for you are telling him to stay still and take it, sitting on the bed and letting you stroke his pretty pink cock until he's wriggling.

Hybrid!Felix who can't help the way his hips buck up into your hands around him, chasing the high and groaning in frustration when you refuse to give him what he wants. All he craves is release, but because you know better than to let him come right away - you edge him like no other.

Hybrid!Felix whose favorite form of edging is when you give him the quickest handjob of his life, focusing on the soft wet squelch the sound his leaking tip makes when you work it with your palm and squeeze over him with gentle fingers.

Hybrid!Felix who has to take it when you lean down to wrap your lips around his ruddy tip, ready to blow any moment and fighting to grip at your hair to force you back down when you pull off of him; Who has to take it when you get closer and buck your hips down against his own, the glistening drip of your pussy slick against his cock and making it all the more easy to grind down against him back and forth.

Hybrid!Felix who trembles when he's had enough, pushing at your sides until you're off of him. It's the few moments he has control, ringed fingers digging into your sides and pushing you prone on your stomach so he can mount you from behind.

Hybrid!Felix who fumbles so badly. He can't even push into you because he's shaking so bad, thighs trembling and free hand gripping your hip tight as if it's your fault he's messing up - which, it kind of is. But as soon as he's buried in your gummy pink walls, he's letting loose and bucking his hips hard a few quick times to settle in.

Hybrid!Felix who buries himself as deep as he can in your pussy, draping himself over your back and rutting his hips in just a little more to grind into you. His tip kisses your cervix as he buries in just a little further, closing his eyes and nuzzling down so you can feel the pale yellow feathers adorning his shoulders and upper arms.

Hybrid!Felix who has quite a high sex drive. He could do it a few times a day, or once every few days - or maybe even a few times every few weeks. It varies - but when he's really in the mood, he'll come walking up to you with wide eyes full of expectation at least four times in a day.

Hybrid!Felix who understands that in his head, his brain tells him nah - you don't need to keep mating; you'll hold the sperm and he can wait a while longer -- He knows that you're not hybrid and won't react that way because you're just a simple human. So, naturally, he breeds you way more often than he has to. ;)

Hybrid!Felix who is incredibly protective of you after mating. If you have sex in the morning and then go out with the guys for lunch later that day, he's going to put distance between you and a few of the others immediately - namely Jeongin, Chan, and Seungmin. He will not let them near you, overprotective beyond belief for the rest of the day.

Hybrid!Felix who is, also, very very proud of what he's done after mating with you. He's dressing himself up a bit nicer than usual, walking taller (not literally), and holding his head higher than normal wherever he goes, as if saying 'Yeah, I did that.'

"Please? I know it's our third time today already but it's been a few hours and we already had dinner, so there's nothing else to do tonight, right? Right?"

"Mn-- Mm! Isn't that kinda mean? You've been teasing me for ten minutes now-- Ah- What do you mean ten minutes isn't enough?!"

"Please, Jagi? Please, please, please, lemme cum-- wanna cum-"

"Mnnh- Oh my God..~"

"Can't take it anymore..-! Lay down. Lay down, please? I'll take care of you."

"Wanna come inside. Want you to have my babies, fuck--"

"God, you feel so fucking good."

Felix getting giddy/bouncing around when horny -> Roosters, before mating, have a tendency to 'dance' around Hens and make sure they have their attention.

Felix coming so quickly -> Roosters and Hens literally touch their coochies together and exchange sperm in under a minute.

Felix mating you more often because you're human -> Hens naturally hold sperm for up to a few weeks after mating with a Rooster, so there is no need for them to mate often. You are not a Hen, lol.

Felix growing overprotective after mating -> Roosters naturally protect Hens from intruders.

Felix showing off after mating -> Roosters tend to strut around and show off their feathers before and after mating a Hen.

[sapphhireblue]

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭

⟡ pairing: han taesan x fem reader

⟡ genre: nsfw (mdni), drabble, fluff, roommates to ??, kissing, foreplay, fingering, nipple play

⟡ tw: teasing, orgasm denial

⟡ wc: 1.1k

⟡ net: @onedoornet

⟡ a/n: well well isn't it almost winter? here's a summer fic to tease your longing for a hot day w taesan

────────────── ✦ ⁺. ──────────────

It's an excrusiatingly hot summer day. The couch feels overly warm, leaving a print of sweat on the brown leather when touched. You look at Taesan, who's busy playing mario kart sitting beside you sucking on a lemon popsicle. Both of his hands are busy fidgeting with the joystick, while his ice lolly is resting prettyily between his plush lips.

He gazed over at you through his curtain bangs to see you drooling. He deducted it might be the frozen treat, and not you thirsting over your cute roommate who you have the hots for. "It's in the fridge, there are lots of flavours" he says with a playful tone; his lemon tainted tongue peeking from between the words. You rush over to the fridge to grab the one you like, strawberry rush. You suit yourself on the couch again, legs folded not to draw attention to your scant silk shorts. But something tells you his eyes took a peak. You fixate on the lolly, putting your almost soaked hair in a bun, while it rests between your lips.

A sweatdrop runs down your neck and you can still feel the burning stare. "Enjoying the sight?" You give a teasing stare to taesan and he is flabbergasted. He furrows his eyebrows, "As if" paying attention to the game again. You start licking it with your tongue, brushing back and forth, sucking it occasionally. Taesan takes glances at you from playing the game, how exposed your legs look from thighs down. How the messy hair frames your face and the thin top becomes transparent due to sweat. Your tongue gets tainted with bright pink from the lolly, so does his mind with unknown colors.

And a rush, a subtle rush bubbling from inside. He bites down his treat to supress the forbidden thoughts. You, moderately oblivious to the fact, enjoy sucking yours. Taking in the cold it has to suffer, your throat feels finally at peace. Taesan notices your flushed cheeks, crafted by the heat. You look cute. He bites his tongue facing his own thought. He shakes his head and tries focusing on the game again. It doesn't get any better when you are savouring it furiously, sucking it whole and taking eager bites. Fixing your bangs with the back of your palm and he can't help but gulp down. How it'll feel having his length around your mouth- he bites his bottom lip and focuses on the game again.

The lolly leaks some drops and makes its way on your crop top, right on the crook of your chest, making a mess. Spreading even more when you fix it with your lolly smothered fingertips. Taesan noticing the sight, takes a tissue and presses it. You get startled at the sudden movement but only keep licking your lolly as it drips down more. He starts cleaning it, dabbing it softly and soaking up the fluid.

But his eyes get stuck at your swollen pink lips. You accidentally catch him on the spot and your lips form a smirk. "What?" you ask with a sneer. "Nothing" he says coldly, still cleaning your top. "Want a taste?" you speak directly looking into his boba pearl eyes, almost at the end of his wit. You are pretty sure you implied having a taste of the lolly and not your lips which he is brutally pressing againt his at the moment. His hands slides down to your palm holding the lolly, it drips on his thumbs but who's taking count of that when he's busy exploring the insides of your mouth. His tongue darts inside, taking over yours in a winning fight of control. You close your eyes, shock melting away at sense of his luscious lips.

The room fills with erotic sounds, he takes in the tangy starwberry scent as he captures your lips from one side to another in a hungry pace.

"I want to do so much more to you." He whispers, pulling back from you with a string of saliva, leaving you wanting for more. His cold fingertips sliding under the back of your top and teasing the skin beneath. Your breath hitches at the sound, you start to get nervous.

Taesan was madly enjoying it, like a payback for all the taunts you give him. "What, you don't like the way you're feeling right now?" He questions, his eyes blazing with a glint, you can't quite figure out. "Because I can see how turned on you are." His hand cups your breast, thumb rubbing over the hardened nipple through your shirt. "Your body is already responding to me" You close your eyes in pleasure, only sparing the approval "fuck, taesan.." He pulls you closer, his lips crash down at your once again. He pulls your peak with this thumb and index, rolling it in between. "I want all of you" he murmurs against your ears. His hand slides down to your thigh, hitching it up around his waist.

He moves his hand back up to your breast, squeezing lightly before sliding his hand down between your legs. You lightly moan his name "taesan.. " a plead, more so an invitation to finally ruin whatever was casual and repressed between you two. You rest your hands on his chest when he rubs against your clit firmly through the shorts, applying just the right amount of pressure.

"I can tell you're soaked for me already". "that feels so good.." you let your thoughts out verbally, he increases his pace with a smirk. His other hand teases your nipples, making it portrude outward. His thumb, lulls down your folds in between, to edge you further. You throw your head back, a certain annoyance playing on your eyebrows, for, you want to reach the high he's denying. "Faster" you say with a desperate need and he can't help but scoff. "You want me so bad? Say, please then" he asks removing your top.

".. taesan" you hold his wrist, as he deliberately slows down more. "I said, please"

"Please.."

"Should've said so" he strokes your clit in a haste, engulfing one of your nipple in his mouth. It draws a circular motion, smothering it with his saliva. The panties end up on the floor moments after. He inserts his middle, followed by his ring finger and pushes through. You throw your head back again, he continually moves it around your hole. You grab his hair, interwining in a tangled way with his soft strands, reaching your high. He sees your breath rising, your abdomen going up and down. He thrusts it this time with more urgency, then your back arches, giving you that sweet release. Your mind goes into the oblivion. He massages the area to ease you up, before parting with your folds and your release on top of his index. He gently licks it off, staring at you mischievously, "Tastes like strawberries"

ty for reading! Send an ask join the masterlist ⟡

©️sapphhireblue [do not copy, repost or translate any of the works]

[satoruhour]

if you haven’t done it yet! aftercare with gojo?

a/n: oh i just HAD to write this thank u for the prompt mirah <3

warnings: unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink but it’s described as briefly as possible

he used to think aftercare was sort of boring? i feel it’s because he never really found the right person so he usually does the bare minimum, cleaning his partner up, getting them water and making them feel comfortable

but he always felt empty inside after they fall asleep, always keeping his distance no matter what

that was until he got together with you and he feels like he’s been missing out on so much

i have a headcanon he’s so unused to affection that his partner will be the one to introduce aftercare to him

like foreplay, aftercare can anything you want it to be!

and he laughs at your comment, fingers shaking from how much he liked you when you sink into his side with the tv droning on at the back

gojo loves all forms of aftercare but i feel he would love a few minutes of cuddling and skin to skin contact before you actually clean up

always has a packet of wet tissues on the bedside table and a glass of sweet sweet tea

it’s kinda gross bc of how sweet it is and if you have a sweet tooth too then good for you

but otherwise it’s insanely sweet, and he uses his cursed energy to heat up the tea!!! waow

but if you dont want hot tea then u gotta drink lukewarm tea sorry

he always carries you. dont try to fight him but he loves to take care of you after sex. loves to wash ur hair and body and you’ll do it back to him :)

sometimes it escalates to another round but most times he likes the two of you in the quietness of the bathroom and just the swooshes of the water

he doesn’t prefer the bathtub or shower more but he’ll pick what you like and go along with it

if you still have energy he likes to watch random youtube videos like cat memes or funny videos (the ones he picks are not exactly funny however…)

you two rarely watch movies bc they’re really long but if you do you’re usually the one to fall asleep bc gojo is naturally replenishing himself with his technique. and also he likes to watch you sleep

creep

he takes photos of you when you’re asleep in his arms and he shows it to you the next day but one day youre suggesting to him that maybe he can fall asleep first

and when he stops his CT it’s like … woah. he falls asleep so soundly in your arms that it’s adorable and now he’s more open to being tucked under your arms to succumb to sleep first

that time also allows you to say your confessions softly and to admire him without any teasing

this time is very soft and delicate and intimate and satoru thinks it’s his favourite, but then again every moment with you is a blessing ♡

the air is thick and musky with sex, skin laced with tear stains while gojo continues to rock into you long after you’ve cummed, moans and pants leaving your mouth with whispers of satoru’s name. the kisses he litters there makes your skin tingle before he’s releasing in you, and it’s thick, filling you up while his lips meet yours passionately, muttering confessions with a smile.

“baby…” gojo pokes your cheek, your expression close to pure bliss from the orgasm that he’s a little worried but he knows you’re being dramatic. it’s something you picked up from him. “you okay?”

your eyes crack open a bit as your hands make their way to his cheeks, feeling the fat of his cheeks fill up your hands when he smiles. with a free hand, his hand engulfs yours, planting a kiss to it and the smile-turned-grin he gives you is blinding before he decides it’s been too long that he’s kissed you.

slipping out of you, he pulls you closer with an arm while the other brushes the sweat-filled hair from your forehead, lips capturing yours softly. you move together, languid and slow and satoru cannot stop smiling as he pulls away, drunk on you.

“let’s get you clean, hm?” gojo plants one more peck on you after twenty minutes; twenty minutes of talking in whispers and kissing (satoru’s doing). he waits for your outstretched arms, hooking his own under your neck and knees just as you plead for him to carry you. “such a big baby.”

you giggle, mumbling a soft yeah before pecking his cheek, holding his stare so full of ardent love that your heart feels like it might actually stop — it almost does when you feel the cold water from the shower head hit your back and you jump with a yelp.

satoru laughs, “my bad, heater wasn’t on.”

“bastard.”

“you certainly don’t think i’m one by how much you were screaming my name just n—”

you groan as his giggles only increase in volume, swooping you up easily before it falls silent and it’s only the sound of the shower filling your ears.

soon, the night is calm, something that isn’t the case usually with gojo, but you’ve casted such a deep spell on the strongest — the weakest when with you — that all he can do is watch your content face and humming voice with a silent love, fingers gliding through his white locks with shampoo and suds.

recently, satoru finds that he’s starting to smell more and more like you.

i have chronic loving-gojo-satoru-like-an-clinically-insane-person disease

[sxfterhearts]

tainted

DAY 3: phonesex/sexting/foreplay/dystopia with choi jiung

🕸 genre/pairings: dystopia!au - lower working class, dom!jiung x upper class, sub!reader

🕸 warnings: smut nsfw (mdni) | phone sex, mutual guided masturbation, slight degradation and corruption kink (consensual), name calling, praise, forbidden relationship

🕸 word count: 2,567 words

⛧°。 ���༺ ☠︎︎ ༻⋆。 °⛧

“This is gonna be the last time, I swear.”

“You said that the last time we did this.” 

“Well… I just can’t help myself, especially not when you look like that. C’mon, take it off for me, sweetheart.” Jiung coaxed in a seductively low register, a smirk working its way onto his pretty face. His greedy eyes were glued to his phone screen, following your every move from behind his wispy black bangs. 

What can he say? He really couldn’t help himself. Phone in one hand, the other inching towards his crotch, the urge to rub himself in search of sweet, sweet relief was too strong to fight off. So he didn’t – Jiung simply gave in to the temptation, diving head first into his desire for you.

The past hour had been pure torture. Not only was he absolutely swamped at work with unrealistic deadlines, but he also had to force himself to stay awake for the weekly government broadcast at the assembly hall. Jiung didn’t understand why they made it compulsory viewing every Friday – the content was repeated every week: stay within your factions, don’t interact with outsiders and abide by the curfew. For all he cared, the drawling voice could’ve been speaking in an entirely different language and he wouldn’t even have noticed. 

Not when you were the sole centre of his attention; the only thought that preoccupied his mind.

It was forbidden – whatever this thing you had going on between the two of you, anyway. Neither of you had a clue what this was. Being from different factions meant the odds were never in your favour. From birth, no, from the moment you were conceived in your mothers’ wombs, you and Jiung lived completely different lives. You were from the upper class, and he was from the working class – the lowest rung of society’s ladder; the scum of the earth. You had all the riches and gold, and always dressed in pristine whites. You were the epitome of poise and purity. Jiung was always tainted in shades of dirt, murky browns and dusty greens. Everywhere he went, he carried the earthy stench of the forest, a byproduct of spending endless days chopping wood and farming land for the government – the very government your family helped to form.

He was beneath you, metaphorically and physically. Right now, you locked yourself in an abandoned bedroom, one of the many in your father’s mansion, far away from prying eyes and curious ears. Being the daughter of a high-ranking government official came in handy, especially for raunchy phone sex escapades with the most irresistible boy you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

The first time you made eye contact with Jiung was when he came to deliver wood for the fireplace in your father’s study. You felt an electric spark then – both of you did. The air was thick and heavy with tension. And let’s just say you definitely felt an unmistakable wetness pool at your nether regions from watching him lift and chop big chunks of wood like they were weightless. It made you wonder how he would manhandle you in bed too…

You threw the phone onto the four poster bed before launching yourself at the mattress, obscuring the phone camera with a view of your chest that had Jiung salivating from the other end of the line. “Do you think they’ll know?” You mused, spreading yourself out and getting comfortable.

Jiung scoffed. Of course you were stalling – you were an upper class girl with all the time in the world to enjoy life’s simplest pleasures. Him, a humble forest boy, did not have the same privileges. As they always say, time is money. And right now, while he’d love to entertain your musings, he really had to get back to work soon. The forest had to be cleared and the trees were not going to chop themselves.

Plus, he was starting to get impatient. That’s what spending one whole hour eye fucking each other across the hall did to him, he supposed – him, a mere nobody amongst the crowd, and you, standing on the assembly stage, looking down at the commoners like the charming, law-abiding bureaucrat you were raised to be. Oh, if only people knew what went on behind the (smoke)screens. “I doubt it. These phones are ancient, none of the current systems will know how to break the encryption. But we’ll never know for sure – they’re always watching, Y/N.”

You hummed in response, lips curling into a devious smile. You liked that thought. “Then let’s give them a show.”

“That’s what we always do, baby. Now hurry, I’ve waited long enough.”

“What’s the magic word, Jiung?”

Blood rushed towards his cock at the way your saccharine voice wrapped around the syllables of his name. He imagined the same lips, oh so pink and kissable, wrapping around something else of his instead. “Quick, we don’t have time! You always do this, I need to go soon.”

“Always so impatient.” You tsked in feigned disapproval, but deep down, you liked it. You liked how Jiung couldn’t get enough of you, how he needed you so desperately, like a burning desire within him that could never be satiated. Even after ending every video call with a promise to never watch each other cum ever again, he always came running back to you, begging to watch you touch yourself. To him, nothing could beat watching you get off on him and his voice.

“Your shirt, Y/N.” Jiung insisted, voice firm and hard. Almost as firm and hard as his thick cock, straining against the confines of his dirt-stained work pants. 

Your pussy pulsed in response, leaking helplessly at his harsh command. After all, as the darling daughter of the most respected upper class family, you were raised to obey orders. You were always a good girl, and always eager to please. You propped the phone up against the pillow and got on your knees for Jiung, ensuring that your upper half was within the frame. With a sultry grin, you dragged your hands up your body, shivering when your fingers came into contact with your stiff nipples.

“Y/N,” He warned dangerously, but you liked playing games. His words fell on deaf ears as you kept playing with yourself, maintaining the slow pace. “Why would you even forget your bra? You like that everyone can see your nipples, huh? Is that it? Slut.”

“Yes, Jiung. I’m your slut.” You moaned, fingers pinching your buds through the thin fabric of your collared button-down. You were a good girl, but you loved bending the rules every now and then, with and for Jiung. And Jiung loved that he tainted you, the girl who embodied innocence and purity. He loved that he stained your whiteness with his dirtiness, like how he dreamed of painting your soft, supple skin with his hot cum.

Jiung cursed under his breath, and you heard him fumbling on the other end of the line. He scrambled to get his bottoms off and sighed in relief when his heavy cock was released. “Go on, what are you waiting for? Touch yourself for me.”

A dark, twisted part of you loved being spoken to in that way. The tension that built up from having to stand still in front of everyone while Jiung undressed you with his eyes got you all worked up. Now, it already felt like a release to take off your clothes and shed the persona you were forced to put on for the rest of the world. Because you knew when Jiung called you like this, you were reduced to nothing more than his girl; his slut. 

So you did as you were told and spread your legs on either side of the phone. You wore a maxi skirt that went all the way to your ankles to remain modest, but you couldn’t imagine what others would say if they saw you exposing your skin, let alone flashing your wet panties to Jiung, of all people, on the other side of the call. 

“Shit, you’re soaking, Y/N. So wet and we haven’t even got started…” Jiung mumbled, head spinning at the wet spot on your lacy white panties. His finger thumbed over an identical stain on his boxers, teasing himself as he spread the precum around his tip.

“It’s because you always look at me like that…” You whined, hands itching to touch your centre. But you knew better than that; you knew to wait for his instructions.

“Like what?” He smirked cockily. 

“Like you want to eat me up.”

“So what if I do? Hmm?” He hummed in response. “You know I’d do anything to eat your sweet pussy, my love.”

You moaned desperately, body heating up at his choice of words. “Jiung…”

“My sweet girl… Go ahead, touch yourself over your panties.”

You obeyed, lips parting in a sigh as your fingers came in contact with your centre. You placed pressure against your hole and felt yourself clench around nothing. Oh, you would give anything and everything to have his calloused fingers inside your gummy walls instead. But alas, it would never happen.

So you settled with this instead. Having his addictive voice guide you to completion over the phone was better than not having him at all. “Push your panties aside for me, yes, that’s it. Put a finger in.” Jiung instructed. He released a breathy moan when his fingers wrapped around his length and began stroking himself.

Your middle finger slipped inside your entrance easily given how soaked you were. It was a relief – small, but a relief nonetheless. You pumped your fingers in and out, maintaining a steady pace. From the corner of your eye, you could make out Jiung’s handsome face contorting in pleasure as he stroked his cock, matching your pace.

“How does it feel? Tell me, baby.” He breathes out, always a sucker for your strained voice and soft whispers.

“Good…” You trailed off, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. “Ah, but I wish it was your fingers inside…” You whined.

Jiung grunted in reply to your whiny cries, increasing his pace. “So do I, baby. Been thinking about stuffing your tight pussy with my fingers all day. I’d get you all stretched and ready for my cock. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes!” You cried desperately.

“I know you would, my little slut. Everyone thinks you’re such a good girl, but look at you now. What do you think they’d say? Put another finger in for me, go on.”

You obliged willingly, breath hitching at the feeling of being stretched further. Jiung was hypnotised, his eager eyes glued to the phone screen to watch your walls stretch and accommodate an additional finger. He couldn’t help but imagine replacing your fingers with his throbbing length and thrusting deep inside, over and over and over again until you both reached your climaxes. He loved tainting you; loved ruining the perfect image that the world sees of you.

“Jiung…” Your soft voice pulled him out of his trance. “Wanna see you, please…”

He knew exactly what you were asking for. He lifted up his shirt and angled the phone upwards, giving you the most delectable view of his thick girth and the numerous tattoos littered on his skin. You watched, transfixed, core pulsating as he stroked his cock hurriedly, harsh pants leaving his parted lips.

“How’s the view?” Jiung questioned with a handsome smirk on his face. 

You hummed in approval. “You’re so hot, Jiung.” 

“Right back at you, sweetheart. One more finger, c’mon. You know you can do it.”

Your lips fell apart in choked moans when you added the third finger. It could barely fit. You felt so full.

“God, you’re taking them so well. Doing so good, baby. Are you close?”

You nodded, cheeks flushed at the wet sounds your cunt made as you pumped your fingers in and out. 

“Me too. Rub your clit, yes… Good girl, just like that.”

“Jiung! Jiung, I’m close, Jiung…” Your mind was flooded with thoughts of Jiung and Jiung only, as you chanted his name repeatedly like a sacred prayer. You were so close, rubbing quickly to chase your release. 

“Yes, Y/N, so good, you’re doing so well for me.” Jiung moaned, mirroring your actions. He was running his mouth and babbling at this point. “Want to cum in your tight pussy and fill you up. I’ll stuff you full of my cum, put your panties back on and make you keep it inside… The world needs to know who you belong to.”

“You, Jiung! I belong to you, only you!”

“Fuck!” He swore, not expecting you to say something like this. It was so intimate – you took him completely by surprise. It was like a switch flipped inside him. The next thing he knew, his orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks and he was cumming messily all over himself. 

Watching his cum leak out in hot spurts made your walls clench tightly on your fingers. The image of him reaching his climax threw you over the edge, pleasure coursing deliciously through your veins as you reached your sweet release. 

It was intense this time, more intense than any of the previous calls. Even though you weren’t in the same room, you could feel the air had shifted. 

You both took a moment to compose yourself, to steady your breaths and heartbeats. But just as you were about to break the silence, you heard footsteps approaching the room.

“Damn it, I have to go.” You stared at him, panicked, yet your expression was uncertain and conflicted, like you were experiencing a whole range of emotions in a matter of seconds. 

Jiung was staring so intently at you, waiting for you to say goodbye and end the call. But why did he feel so reluctant this time? 

“I –” He started.

But you cut him off. “Sorry. See you, Jiung.”

You ended the call. For a few seconds, you just stared at the black screen, selfishly allowing yourself to imagine what life would be like if you could be with him in person, and not just through a phone screen. 

And then you realised that today was Friday, and the maids were out looking for you to get you ready and all dolled up for dinner at the government house. Instead of returning the phone to its usual resting place under the pillow, you pocketed it for a change. You weren’t too sure why, but your gut was telling you it was the right thing to do.

You ended the call. For a long time, Jiung just stared at the black screen, selfishly allowing himself to imagine what life would be like if he could call you his, and not just through a phone screen. His lower body and tattoos were still covered in cum, and he curses into the darkness when he realises…

“I think I’m in love with you.” He whispered, his words drifting off into the endless void between the two of you.

[7:49pm] jiung: sent a photo.

[7:51pm] jiung: can’t stop thinking about you

[7:51pm] jiung: i need you so bad, please y/n…

[7:51pm] y/n: me too, i want you inside me

[7:51pm] y/n: you can use the maid’s entrance. i’ll sneak out of this dinner, meet me in 20

[abcdbleh]

choking nanami kento using his very own signature tie 🫶🏻

a stressful day at work unfortunately for him all he wants is to spend time with his wife because they haven't been intimate for weeks due to the clash in their work schedule, before going home he stops by and buys her favourite champagne a bouquet of white roses and her favourite chocolate and fruits that's he knows that's what she needs too after a long day teaching first years at the Jujutsu school.

nanami forgets that's it too late wayyy to late when arriving home and he spots her sitting their with a unreadable expression on her pretty face. she asks him that where has he been and he just shows her the flowers and the other goods he bought for her, unexpectedly she gets up and walks towards him and he notices that shes still in her usual work attire a beige coloured button down shirt and a knee length pencil skirt and all he can think about is kneeling down and tasting her even if she's angry with him for coming home late. he's just a man right :(( pretty thing walking up to him and he's already half hard in his slacks.

she responds by saying that she's angry with him that he hasn't been able to spend time with her and shes been missing his doting attention on her, what she doesn't next is completely different from what he thought. he expected a fight a full blown tantrum that's gonna affect the status of their relationship or her storming off to their room to pack up and leave but what he doesn't expect it her pouncing on nanami and kissing him so hard that he drops everything he bought on their hardwood floor of their apartment.

ohh what a day for nanami kento, his beautiful wife making out with him he's trying to strip her off of her clothes both are a sweaty tangled mess, there's no patience no sweetness in the kiss this kiss consists of pure unadulterated lust,none of them can control themselves. she unbuttons his blue shirt stripping him off his yellow tie and and wraps it around his neck, he only gasps at whats happening right now,all he can wonder is where was this side of his wife hidden?

nanami and her both exchange glances at each other and she pulls the tie with a small force she could only moan at his whimper that makes her feel hot and tingly all over her body. with a little more determination and force she tugs the tie even harder and he moans out loud even adding a little "please" into the equation, ahe could barely contain herself at this moment,her arousal is literally dripping from her thighs and nanami's pants have a wet patch on his he's a sweaty mess and she's is just so horny for her husband. who won't be horny for thee great nanami kento huh?

nanami is a greek god in her eyes she admires him with a loving gaze and goes to straddle his lap. there's no need for preparation or foreplay,nanami pleads for her to do something she only tug the tie and sinks down on his girthy cock. nanami is on a leash literally!! but he would do anything to please his wife,nanami is starstruck watching his wife ride him so good to the point he asks her to marry him once again,she rides him hard and fast one hand holding the makeshift leash and the other hand gripping his soft sweaty blond locks. he can't last long he knows he can't all he can do is moan and plead her to go slow because nanami wants her to cum first his wife always needs to cum first that's his first and foremost rule when having sex. at this rate he can't even forms words his jaw dropped and his hips bucking up into her, he loses all semblance of reality and almost passes out after cumming :(( poor boy all he needs now is a glass of water so he can return the favour by making you ride his face until you squirt.

[gilverrwrites]

Call me Tim

Tim Drake/Reader, 2K

[Say his name, P2] AN: I did not expect part 1 to be se well recieved, here hoping part 2 was worth the wait! CWs: Breach of trust, teasing, semi-public foreplay, mildly stalker-ish behaviour on Tims part.

Tim had always told himself that fucking his fans was not a thing for him. Not a kink. Bernard was different, he just had so much passion. He would have been into him regardless of whatever he was fixated on.

Then you happened.

Ever since he’s been telling himself that it was coincidence, not causation. And again, he liked you before he found out you’d spent your formative years kissing cutouts of him. Well, he doesn’t know that part for sure, but he liked to imagine it. Point being; your adolescent crush on him was not the driving force behind his attraction to you.

But as he found himself plotting ways to naturally bump into you as Tim Drake-Wayne, it was becoming increasingly harder to deny that he maybe was, a little bit, kind of into it.

Hitting you up online? Too out of the blue.

Turning up at your house? Way too much.

Then one night the perfect opportunity arose. He’d overheard you making plans to meet some friends at an uptown bar later that week. He wasn’t scheduled to patrol that night. Despite the logical part of his brain telling him it was a creepy move, he just couldn’t pass up the chance. Red Robin had to be so cautious around you, but if you hit it off with Tim he could let a little loose around you.

That’s how he’s ended up sitting on the table adjacent to yours, listening in on your private conversation and praying you wouldn’t recognise him before he was ready.

“So have you guys ever had someone ask you to call them by a different name when you’re… you know?” He nearly coughs on his drink, sitting bolt upright as though it will help him hear better. He trusts you not to spill on who the guy is. You’d had that conversation already, but he wants to hear you say Tim again.

“What like ‘Daddy’? Yeah, my ex was into that.”

“No.” Your voice has grown so quiet, laced with a sheepish laugh just like the morning you’d confessed about your crush to him. God, he wishes he could turn around and look at your face. He’d bet you’re all flustered. “Like, another actual man’s name?”

“No, hon. That’s weird.”

“Who’s the guy? Whose name?”

“You don’t know him.” You shut down the first question. He bets your fidgeting, looking at anything other than your friends as you consider your next words cafeully. “But he wanted me to call him Tim. As in, Tim Drake.”

“That’s really weird. Did he know you used to be down bad for him?”

He knows it's mean to turn around now, and worse, risky. Liable to scare you away but it’s so worth it to see the five stages of grief cross your face in the span of 3 seconds when you notice him. You're like a starstruck deer in the headlights as the word “yeah” dies on your lips. If he cupped your cheeks right now, he's certain the heat would burn away any remnants of his fingerprints.

The whole table falls silent as one by one, your friend’s clue into the situation. If it weren’t for their sickly amused smiles, and the foley of the bar, you’d think the world has stopped turning. You wish the world would stop turning.

He’s staring at you with an almost impish smile and your fight, flight, or freeze kicks in. You opt for stuttering “I have to piss!” As you abruptly leave the table.

I have to piss. You just bumped into The Tim Drake, and the first things he heard from your mouth were that you’d called his name while hooking up with someone, and I have to piss.   

The queue to the solo bathroom in this place is always long, and usually you’d be annoyed but tonight you’re grateful for the extra time to compose yourself, or you would be if you apparently hadn’t been followed.

“So, is he your boyfriend?” Where the fuck had he come from? You hadn’t seen him approach at all.

“He’s…” Not, not your boyfriend. You see each other at least weekly, sometimes you cook for him, and he often brings you gifts. However, you’ve never had that conversation, you don’t even know who he is under the mask. You don’t have his phone number. Despite multiple sexual encounters, you hadn’t even seen him naked. Now that you think about it, there’s a definite power imbalance in whatever you have. “Why?”

You’re much more defensive of his teasing than you are with Red Robin. Understandable, you didn’t really know Tim, and he’s really hit you out of left field. This is all turning out a bit crueller than he’d intended, but he can’t bring himself to stop. Your apprehension tonight is as tempting as your timidness had been last time. It’s like he’s trying to seduce you on hard mode.

“Just tryin’ to find out if it would be appropriate to buy you a drink, maybe ask you to dance?” He sounds off. Not like he does in the TV interviews and podcasts you’d heard him on, but still familiar. It’s hard to focus on, however, because he’s standing so close. Close enough for you to smell the fresh sweetness of his aftershave, for you to see the features you’ve been fantasising about up close.

“This place doesn’t have a dance floor.”

“We could go to another place.”

“Oh no buddy, I’m not going to any secondary locations.” He can’t help the smile that crosses his lips. You remembered his safety tip. He just hopes it reads as anything other than prideful to you right now. “Don’t think for a second just cause you heard what you heard that I’m gonna fall all over you.”

“Buddy? You can call me Tim.” The obvious innuendo has you cracking a genuine smile. Your nerves are still apparent from the way you're tapping your fingers against your thigh, and your refusal to make meaningful eye contact with him but he’s chipping at your walls. There's four people waiting ahead, and he wonders if he can breach your shields completely before it's your turn. “Or if it makes you feel better you could call me whatever that other guy’s name is.”

“Is this how you get people to sleep with you? You tease them relentlessly until they give up just so you’ll go away when it’s over?”

“Ouch.” You have a point, he’s never behaved like this before. He’s always been a self-confessed smartass, but you just bring out something especially brazen within him. Something wicked. He’s being a jerk, but you’re chewing your lips and sneaking awed glances at him, which implies you’re more into it than you’d admit. “Am I not what you expected?”

He probably would live up to your expectations had this been your real first meeting. If he wasn’t already comfortable around you, he’d be enamoured by your appearance, too skittish to match your keen whit or ask about your hobbies, not when you look at him with those eyes. If anything, the typical Tim Drake persona might even bore you by rambling on about detective novels or WayneTech.

“You’re why people say you should never meet your heroes.”

“Okay, fine.” Maybe he had gotten a bit carried away messing with you. “Can I just ask you one more thing, and then I’ll go away, or buy you a drink? Whatever you want.”

Your eyes drift up to the ceiling as you consider his offer. It’s not an uncommon tick for people to have, but it’s certainly more endearing when you do it. Eventually, you nod, conceding to him and offering real, esrnest eye contact. You’re still willing to hear out your favourite celebrity, and a pang of guilt at once again abusing his authority thrums through his chest.

It doesn’t stop him from asking, however. “What clued this guy into your crush on me?”

“Pictures.” You frown, still not breaking eye contact. Something is different. The nervous energy you’ve been emanating since he’d followed you to the line has subsided, replaced by something tantalisingly self-assured.

“Pictures of what?”

He tries to pry but you give him nothing.

“Of you.”

“What kind of pictures.”

The answers here don’t matter to him anyway, he already knows. He’s just trying to segue into a specific set of questions.

“Just, pictures.”

“How ambiguous.” Here’s his chance to try and satisfy that burning fantasy. “Did you practice kissing on them?”

“What? No.” Your tense shoulders say otherwise. “Why would you even ask that?”

“I don’t know.” Perfect. He gives his best noncommittal shrug before leaning in closer, balancing his weight on the wall behind you until the distance between your bodies is closed. He can still pick up hints of your body wash, but it’s washed out but the smell of a parfum that he wishes he could spray on his pillows at night. “Thought I’d offer you the real thing to compare.”

Your response isn’t what he’s expected, but it is what he’s hoped. Your lips press softly against the corner of his lips, and he can’t stop from locking a hand on your hip, not to force anything further, but to stop you from backing away. Although, the wall he has you partly confined against has been doing a pretty good job thus far.

He needn’t bother, however, because it doesn’t take long for you to grow more confident. This is the moment he’s been waiting for.

His mouth parts at the first sign of your tongue and you eagerly explore his mouth. He tastes like IPA, hoppy and warm. Your hands boldly play across his chest, until you fist the fabric of his shirt and tug him closer, deepening the kiss until he moans into your open mouth.

Your sudden boldness is doing things for him. Head spinney, dick hard things. Thoughtlessly, he ruts his hips, rubbing his clothes cock against your lower abdomen until you pull away with a laugh. It’s his turn to be nervous. You’re looking at him with something fierce and canny.

“Excuse me.” A clearly unamused man interjects himself between your embrace to point at the bathroom. “Are you waiting?”

“Oh, yeah.” Tim is surprised by your chipper poise, as you smile politely at the man. He’s even more surprised when you hook your fingers into the give of his leather belt and proceed to drag him with you into the cubicle, locking him inside with you as you offer thanks to the stranger.

“What are you doing?”

“Comparing with the real thing.”  You grace him with another, hard kiss, backing him against the door. Your tongue is hot against his already heated skin as you hurriedly work it along his jaw and neck. He remembers how you’d looked when you’d first noticed him earlier and wonders if his burning face looks equally as nonplussed as he lets you have your way with him against the bathroom door.

He hisses when you plunge your fingers below his belt once more, this time unbuckling it. You’ve fucking cracked, he must have broken something in your brain. There’ll be exaggerated stories about this all over the Gotham Globe’s home page tomorrow. Hell, if he cares though.

“You’ve changed your tune.” He comments, bucking his hips, helping you free him from his boxers. Your fingers lock around his base, and it throbs at finally being touched by you. He’s wanted so badly to fuck you for months but as Red Robin, he’s had to be careful, had to put his guard up which had resulted in a very altruistic sex life. But Tim Drake could fuck you. Right here, right now, Tim Drake-Wayne would fuck whatever hole you’d give him and the thought of it has him losing composure fast.

Your lips lock in one last frenzied kiss before you drop to your knees, and you look like an Angel sent from hell, looking up at him from beneath his reddened cock, with heady eyes and salacious smile.

“So, Red.” Shit. His heart skips a beat. Shit. Shit. Shit. He’s not sure what gave him away, but he doesn’t have a chance to care before you spit on his dick and start to pump with a deliberate rhythmic pace that has his head rolling back against the door. He’s not sure if he wishes he’d never done this at all, or if he’d done it sooner. “What name should I use tonight?”

[travellingarmy]

✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙

Lilia Vanrouge

Warning(s): NSFW. Minors do not interact. Yandere themes. Implied pseudo-incest.

Just a short drabble.

⊱⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱⊰♤⊱⊰◇⊱⊰♡⊱⊰☆⊱⊰♧⊱⊰

"Shh.."

A soft chuckle emits somewhere in the unlit room.. Not that you'd know whether or not the room was truly lit or not when your eyes have been blindfolded. He shushes you in hopes that you'll let your guard down. However..

"Khehee. My little fae, why do you seem so scared?" Though he does not outright say it, Lilia enjoys watching how much your body trembles just by hearing his voice. He knows that he was the one to teach you to fear things, but he never anticipated that one day you'd turn his lessons against him. After taking care after you for so many years and this is the result.. He could only sigh if it weren't for the fact that he quite enjoyed being a sadist. And he has to admit, he must have gone wrong somewhere so he is partially at fault.

A wide grin that only a madman such as he could perfect smeared on his face. The sound of chains dragging on the floor sounded in your ears when you shuffle your legs close to you. You bit your lips, refusing to talk to him for as long as you could.

This only spurs him to crouch down to level your eyes and carress your cheek. His hand is slender and cold but that wasn't the reason you shuddered. What made you shiver was the thought of someone who you confide all your problems with and trusted deeply, especially when it came to protecting you, showing their monster and unwanted sinful desires towards you. "Hm~ What's this? Why is my little fae refusing my touch?" He pouts when you turn your head away from his hand.

"Are you perhaps being shy?" He chuckles and shakes his head when he falls trap to his own fantasies. "What a silly little thing."

Having enough of doing all the talking, he decides that it was about time for you to sing him praises. Chains rattle again, this time not because of you but because of him. He grabs your ankles and pulled your entire body close to him.

His cold leather gloves made you gasp which only fueled him on. "Fufufu. I knew I'd like you better this way," he comments, now towering over your form. You try not to cry as he leaves wet kisses on your inner thighs. It felt disgusting and O' how you wished your body didn't betray you at this moment, biting your bottom lip to keep all the noises he so desperately wants to hear from escaping.

He chuckles at your pathetic tries of fighting against the idea of giving up and submitting to him. If he had known years ago that you were going to become like this, maybe he should've discarded the notion of teaching you all those things that he would later have to pay a heavy price of not loving you the way he wants to and greatly resenting it. "Hn..!" Oh? Your legs trembled as he gives a kiss to your clothed sex. You could not see the sadistic smile that stretches his face that shows his fangs.

It was at this moment that he decides to skip all that long foreplay and teasing you. Another time, maybe, but not right now.

He slips off your underwear, feeling a wave of excitement surge through him. Lilia admits, he hasn't always thought of you this way so something must be wrong with him.. "You've put me under your spell, little fae.." His voice sounds deeper; serious.

"So it's time for you to understand the consequences of casting a spell on me."

✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙

[asters-galaxy]

About the SFW vs NSFW situation that's going on right now.

I know I'm not active much nowadays and I already commented on one of the posts involved, but if you'll allow me to get on my soapbox for a bit:

I'd like to explain mine and a lot of other people's stance on this, personally, as someone who has:

Enjoyed tickling and fantasized about it since about the age of 5

Enjoys it currently in both SFW and NSFW contexts

Does not allow minors on their blog

Is currently in school and studying psychology

Recently gave a presentation and is writing a paper about how kinks and trauma correlate

From how I've looked into this situation thus far, I see that another person made the very wild generalization that all people who enjoy tickling enjoy it as a sexual kink. I want to make it known to anyone who is reading this that this claim is not true.

(Important note: DO NOT HARASS THIS PERSON. IF YOU HARASS THIS PERSON, YOU ARE PART OF THE PROBLEM AND YOU ARE BULLIES. I DO NOT TOLERATE BULLIES ON THIS BLOG.)

Tickling is a sensory activity. It is a bonding thing that occurs in the animal kingdom (not just humans) often between familial connections and friendships. This is the norm in the human world; parents lovingly tickle their children, siblings and friends get into tickle fights, partners tickle each other -- it's a normal thing. These activities are not inherently sexual. When my parents tickled me and my brother when we were little, that was not sexual abuse or incest. When a classmate of mine was gang-tickled in the back of the classroom, his friends weren't suspended for sexual behavior in a school setting. Everyone in both of those situations were enjoying what was going on, but nobody was aroused. That shouldn't have to be said.

An important note on this, however, is that sexual abuse can happen this way -- it's not the only way, nor is it an inherent quality of the activity, but it does happen. I just wanted to preface that, because if someone touching you makes you uncomfortable in any way, you have a right to tell them to stop and to get angry if they don't.

The important thing when it comes to determining whether a scenario is kinky or not is based on consent and any potential arousal involved. For example, take the concept of a foot kink. Say a person asks for a foot massage. Just because foot kinks exist doesn't mean that person has a foot kink. And, even if they do, it depends on why they ask: are they asking because they want foreplay, or are they asking because they had a hard day at work and their feet are sore? It's similar with tickling -- I enjoy it in both contexts, so I can be aroused by it; however, this doesn't happen if I ask for it or otherwise seek it out because I'm looking for comfort. My partner will tickle me in more sexually intimate situations, but he will also do so if I've been having a bad day or if he wants to be playful with me, and it does not immediately or always arouse me -- only in the right and comfortable context.

Let's look at the sensory-seeking side. A lot of people in the SFW tickling community are diagnosed with or believe they have ADHD, autism, or both. I do as well. Looking at the science behind it, it makes sense: ADHD and autism are both disorders that alter the way that someone perceives physical sensory input. Given that tickling is an inherently innocent bonding activity that is playful and involves (hopefully) consensual sensory, it makes sense that a fixation could/would form and sensory-seeking behaviors would occur. This is a good explanation for anyone who was seeking tickling in some way as a child but has never/didn't at the time feel sexual about it.

And as far as sexual interest does go: kinks often form as a coping mechanism, and yes, they CAN be non-sexual or occur in non-sexual manners. So, again, tickling is not always a sexual thing for people.

Now to get into the nitty-gritty of the claims this person was making and their personal input:

This person claimed that if you cannot/do not want to show your tickling fixation to your friends, boss, and family, then it means it's kinky and that's why you're embarassed.

First of all, I wouldn't show any fanart or fanfiction to my boss, dickass. You think I'm giving them ammo that easily? HELL NO.

For my family, I don't feel comfortable doing that because I have a long history of my personal technology privacy being invaded. I also don't want them following me, same way I don't want them following my main Tumblr account.

But as far as friends go, I have shown my fanfiction to my partner and one of my friends (another person I know IRL found my blog after that); I am slowly working my way up to being comfortable enough to show other people I am close to. I keep it under wraps for a lot of reasons:

I hold myself very seriously and elegantly IRL and this entire blog juxtaposes that

A lot of my highschool life involved drama and tension, and I am very lucky that there were certain people I refrained from showing

I was also a victim of bullying as the "weird kid" and one of the only openly queer people in my grade, and I didn't want any ammo to be given to the people harassing me

And, perhaps most importantly,

It gets commonly mistaken as ALWAYS a fetish online, and people who don't understand that harass the creators of tickling art and fanfiction; I can handle that online by blocking as I please, but IRL?

We've all seen people talk about hating tickling, how "it's abuse, actually," how our community (fetish or not) is "gross" and "weird" and full of creeps. Think about the tickle Picrew's creator (a minor!) getting harassed on Twitter, which spread to them trying to bully SFW creators on Tumblr. Think about people cringing over tickle scenes. Think about the way that otomiyaa's writing breached containment and prompted negative comments. Almost all of us have seen this harassment happen or experienced it ourselves -- why put ourselves in that situation with IRL people, where it can be even more damaging to hear?

Moving on:

This creator also stated that any tickling blogs that talk to minors are either pedophiles or fostering a "safe space" for them to breed; they doubled down on this by saying that they were groomed, and that this community (again generalizing to everyone) let it happen by turning a blind eye

They then were called many things, including a pedophile, by harassers

Listen. I don't allow minors on this blog. But that's not because this is a tickling blog. It's because I don't like talking to children (this includes IRL, by the way) because it personally weirds me out; I have no reason to talk to them.

But the MAIN reason is because I have a history of minors pushing my boundaries -- not the other way around -- which gave me a sour relationship with this blog and my writing. That's why I haven't posted a fic in years. However, if a minor comes to this blog, I am not going to immediately groom them -- that's not how that works. And if a minor comes to this blog looking for help, I will help them.

Additionally, generalizing every SFW adult in this community as a pedophile because you didn't receive help when you needed it most is not a healthy way to cope with trauma. I am sorry that it happened, but I was either not in the community or a minor when it happened; that does not make me a bystander now just because I'm a SFW adult here. This goes for everyone who was not there or could not have done something at the time.

One groomer also does not mean that every adult here is/could be one. That is a horrific generalization to make. If that were the right generalization, then that would mean that every adult ever with any kink should never, EVER talk to children or they're a pedo. Do you see how misaligned that is?

I don't agree with the people who were harassing this blogger, including on the pedophile claim. I do have to say, though, that the horror and disgust that this person likely felt at being called that is exactly what they just put a lot of people through. It also does not negate the valid criticisms of those who respectfully spoke up. Something to dwell on.

Bottom line is -- and I don't say this to be demeaning -- that this person could genuinely benefit from some introspection, a break from the kink community, or both. It is not okay to label an entire SFW community as pedos because you were groomed by one person. It is not okay to generalize every person who likes tickling as a kinkster just because you are. Don't make sweeping generalizations. Period.

For anyone who felt hurt and confused by the claims this person made, please know that you are not alone (I was dealing with the same thing because of a different artist a while back); please also know that you don't have to label yourself as anything that you don't want to. As long as you aren't hurting anyone, you are valid and welcome here.

[ronearoundblindly]

I have a request! This can be for your ‘Every Cevans character’ or you can choose specific guys from your fics like Fools Rush in! Steve / Root of All! Ransom etc.. whichever you want :)

What does initiating sex look like for the boys? I’m curious which guys do think initiate sex the most? Or do some only wait for the girl to initiate? I have a feeling Jakey boy waits for his girl initiate most of the time 🤣. Maybe there’s some where it’s 50/50? Curious to know your thoughts.

Yeah, sorry I completely wiffed getting this done yesterday, but here's half of the promised content! I did try to reference most of my other works for multiple story insights...

Warnings for discussion of sex, but nothing explicit.

James Mace

Unfortunately, Mace gets distracted by work, spending tons of time (even when you're together) chasing possibilities down rabbit holes, so sometimes you have to remind him that what you two have is real and, like a living thing, will die without oxygen. In this case, oxygen is affection and attention. He...gets it and then forgets again after a while. Mace doesn't need a hard push by any means, but in total, initiating sex is close to 50-50.

He's not a big romancer, but that doesn't mean Mace can't be deeply romantic. Initiating simply looks like more of a "you feeling it?"-type conversation rather than gentle, building foreplay. That said...Mace, when you too are intimate, is 100% focused on you and your pleasure and connection together. He's a very practical compartmentalizer, meaning he also goes hard on the mission in front of him 😉 ya dig?

Curtis Everett

This boi?? Oh lawd. This boi is the king of that look--the one that hits you like a train from across a busy room that says "let's fuck." Curtis doesn't need words; he just needs you. He absolutely ends up being the main initiator if you count all the looks. However, that doesn't mean you aren't giving him the eyes right back. 😁🤭

Jimmy Dobyne

Ugh. Jimmy waits for signals too much and really only is the initiator when he's very, very horny. In Common Education, since that's a modern AU, he takes the lead just as much as reader, but that is because reader has a position of authority (professor) over him at the beginning. Counter-intuitive? Nah, Jimmy finds that attractive. He's hot for it. See, the thing about Jimmy is he's an average joe. He gets kinda complacent and comfortable in traditional setups, so when his perfect partner pushes back against that boring dynamic, it lights a fire under him. He's intrigued. He's energized. That hint of danger is totally an aphrodisiac. "We shouldn't" are two of the sexiest words to this man.

Johnny Storm

Rarely isn't the initiator. Admit it, you knew that already. He's literally got the hots for you all the time. He's got that spunky energy of youth and cosmic radiation. He's DTF.

Jake Jensen

Okay, y'all know I love our babygirl so, so much, but Jake is oblivious to the idea women have libidos. He kinda thinks he's being a burden with how often he wants to touch you or fool around. It ends up being 50-50 on who initiates because he's s.l.o.w. He makes jokes and blushes and plays it off, and Jake assumes he looks more like a goofy man-child (probably because you've said that, verbatim) who isn't exactly the guy you'd want to jump on. Again, he's an idiot. We love him. Just...good gracious, just fuck him as much as you want. He's cool with it.

Lloyd Hansen

Lloyd is not patient enough to wait for you to initiate and also isn't so great with the word 'no,' even in the innocuous form of 'not now.' He will, at very least, threaten to find other entertainment to guilt you into servicing him. Secretly, he loves this game, a bit of fight, but only in small doses. Pretty much you're one chance to initiate is waking Lloyd up, otherwise it's all him.

Ari Levinson

Ari enjoys closeness. He mostly wants to be wrapped around you on the couch after long days at work which leads to who-knows-who started it sex, and with a little luck, a snack, and a hydration break, leads to a who-knows-who-started-it Round 2. He's pretty good at initiation but must be told to wait during those times you need either a different kind of closeness or some alone time.

This is only slightly different from Bedrock & Blueprints!Ari since having a decade of non-romantic experience with you, he doesn't always default to being that close to you. Not in a bad way--Ari is simply used to respecting your space, talking, and listening to you. All that 'baggage' actually helps you two have a deeper, longer-lasting relationship because it's more than just-physical for Ari.

Ransom Drysdale

Ran is a moody son-of-a-bitch and sex improves his mood. It's 50-50 since depending on whether he tries or you try to improve his mood. Ransom's not the most observant dude (putting it mildly), so he doesn't usually notice your mood behaves the same way. If you need some loving, it's then 100% on you to ask, let him know, or jump on that. This applies to...every single version of Ransom I can imagine, so this is RoAR, too.

Andy Barber

Busy. He gets tired. Andy will run himself ragged before remembering that he could have you join him in that essential-shower after a long day. He has bursts of horniness once big cases are finished or vacation energy once you two finally get away. While Andy is deep in work, it's all on you to initiate. If he's less busy/stressed, he will be the best, most playful, most attentive man, but Andy compartmentalizes his life. He can't focus on two aspects of his life fully at the same time.

Steve Rogers

Generally, I totally see Steve as being passive when it comes to initiating sex, but once I broke down the series I've written him in, that guy surprised me.

FRI--For the longest time, obviously, Steve was not the initiator in pretty much any way (couple of kisses, sure, but eh, that's about it), so he has to grow into a 50-50 split. There's a natural ebb and flow between Sketch & Keeps--sometimes it's more you, sometimes it's more him.

Hideout--Steve sure as shit wants you, but all the initiating and encouraging is you for a while. He rarely isn't in the mood when you hint at sex (or any variation of touch, etc). He takes less and less convincing to let go as you two get to know each other. Once he's gained the confidence, Steve initiating is a hott treat, let me just say...

IHTBY--Ummm, it's mostly Steve. Bit of a horndog, this one, and he's highly aware of the previous taboo of you working for him for most of your relationship. He checks in a lot, makes sure you're comfortable and not feeling pressured, and then takes over to show his devotion to you as a woman. Steve is intensely committed to appreciating your independence; he feels lucky (and turned on) knowing you choose to be with him.

Threadbare--Steve enjoys starting intimacy with Button because he often watches her handle lots of tools, paper, fabric, and other people (professionally), which gives him *ideas.* He likes to be the subject of your artistic attentions ☺️

Autumn Is Healing--Steve is the initiator most of the time actually. It began that way because he wanted to show you soft affection, but...he also really likes you (and escalation happens). He starts with very gentle touch, like running his fingertips down your arm.

So...I guess perhaps I was wrong about it being on you to start something...

Bucky Barnes

Cautious. Nowadays, Bucky likes to know the answer to a question before he asks, so he does wait for certain signs from you. He doesn't need overt signals, though, because Buck can sense every subtle change when he pays attention (there's something to be said for his comfort is *turning off* this gift around you as well btw): warmer skin, picked up heart rate, clamping and rubbing your thighs together. All that is to say that he absolutely knows if you're in a mood before making his move on you, and the only times when you technically get to initiate is if you legit pounce on him the instant he returns from a mission.

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Who Would... Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @yenzys-lucky-charm

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3

-----

Eddie doesn't graduate.

He's stuck here for another year, and he screams into his pillow, throws himself a pity party for the better part of two days, and then drags himself back out and gets the hell on with it.

In Eddie's second senior year, Hagan finds his new liege in the form of fucking Billy Hargrove.

Hargrove and Hagan fixate on Harrington, who frankly, doesn't seem all that interested in either raising to their bait or defending his title. Eddie'd almost have respect for the guy, if it weren't for the way their shit gets everywhere. The mess he'd been watching over the last year starts to spill out and out and out, and there's something in Hargrove's eyes that, for the first time, makes Eddie consider ducking his head and staying out of his way. There's a bitter taste in his mouth, because goddamn, if he did even a quarter of the things Hargrove is, he'd be getting queer written on his locker instead of freak before the end of first period.

But no, when it's a jock obsessed with another jock, it's a vicious rivalry. Hargrove is new, and pretty, and dangerous, and the balance seems to shift and waver on whether the masses find him thrilling or distasteful.

Eddie can't wait to graduate and leave this all behind.

Some time after Halloween, he finds I don't need to go to the hospital scrawled onto his hip, and his heart lodges itself in his throat. He's never been more tempted to say something - anything - to make his soulmate go to the damn hospital when he needs to.

But he's a coward who doesn't want to open that door again, and a bitter part of him reminds himself that his soulmate probably has tons of friends - a girlfriend - to bustle him off to the hospital and fuss over him.

He's a little bit ashamed of himself for the thought, but not enough to make him say anything.

Around the same time, neither of the dueling kings show up to school for three days straight. It's not entirely unexpected for Hargrove, but the last time Harrington missed school was the year before, when all that stuff with the missing Byers kid was going down.

It gets people talking.

When they both come back, the buzzing intensifies, and things come to a head at lunch. The cafeteria had dimmed a little when Harrington walked in, looking like a fucking trainwreck, but his swagger is just as strong as ever and he sits down with some of his friends like he's just daring anyone to ask him about it.

Then Hargrove walks in, looking not nearly as bad but still pretty clearly messed up, and the entire room goes quiet.

It makes Eddie's leg bounce in agitation, every bone in his body screaming at him to get the fuck out of there, but his sheepies are looking at him for their cues and he forces himself to look bored with all this shit.

Hargrove's swagger is even worse than Harrington's, and he saunters across the cafeteria as if he doesn't have a care in the world. Someone asks him a question, too low for Eddie to make out, and Hargrove grins, wide and amused.

"Harrington and I sorted our differences," he says, loud enough to echo across the cafeteria. "Ain't that right, Steve-o?"

Hargrove licks his lips as he looks over at Harrington - and see, see that's what Eddie's talking about, Hargrove is looking at Harrington like he wants to eat him. Some part of Eddie perks up a little, because fuck, that is one attractive man, but once again the look in Hargrove's eyes kills it. He looks like a fucking predator, like if a fight does spring up he'll go and go and go until one of them is dead, and Eddie feels a chill over his spine as his eyes snap back to Harrington.

If they're suddenly friends now, Eddie's going to have to make a dramatic exit to go be sick.

Fortunately for Eddie's stomach, there's a flare of disgust in Harrington's expression before it smooths over, looking bored and unaffected.

He smiles at Hargrove, sharp and wide and toothy. "Any time you want to skip the foreplay and get to the main event again, you just let me know."

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, firmly telling his dick to sit the fuck down, that any attraction he might feel for him should die the same way it does for Hargrove. It doesn't listen to him, not until -

Hargrove tips back his head and laughs, wild and frenzied, and there's a titter of laughter that scatters across the cafeteria - some of it uncertain, some of it mean, some of it genuine. Just like that, everyone's back to their normal days.

"Jesus H. Christ," Eddie mutters under his breath. "And they say I'm the dramatic one."

He hears a smattering of soft agreements from the rest of Hellfire, a couple of snorts of laughter, and that buoys him a little. He tilts his head, making a sweeping gesture that nearly knocks over Jeff's milk. "Well! It seems our entertainment for the meal is over with. What say we adjourn to get set up for tonight's club meeting?"

He doesn't look at Hargrove or Harrington. All the people in this world, the chances of his soulmate being one of them are pretty damn small, despite their situations fitting. He doesn't think about how both of them probably could have used a fucking hospital, doesn't let himself wonder which one is the type to deny they needed it.

Doesn't let himself decide that he'd so much rather it be Steve Harrington.

He really doesn't want it to be Steve Harrington.

—

Lies spring to life on his skin throughout the rest of the school year - not as much as last fall, but what he does get is… a little bit strange, a little bit personal, more so than Eddie's seen before.

Rabid dogs, you know, they're no joke.

I still think this is dumb.

You'd be surprised how many coyotes are in these woods.

I'm never going to play this thing with you, man, you might as well stop asking.

Nothing to worry about, all right?

I'm not lying, I'm totally fine.

Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington graduate with the rest of their class, that year.

Eddie doesn't.

Taglist (let me know if I missed anyone, and I'm always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @affablevixen @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman

-----

Part 5

[tatsumessy]

Where are you? - {Nagi Seishiro}

You miss your boyfriend. From him being busy all day with practice/games and then coming home to either play games for the rest of the night or he’d want lazy sex from you even if you weren’t 100% willing to do it. But that didn’t mean you hated him, he just changed suddenly and you don’t know why. You haven’t had a single full conversation with Nagi in over six months and it hurts, it really hurts. It’s like you’ve lost your person.

“Ngh-Nagi…that hurts-s-stop!” You moaned out scratching your nails against his back, he continued to thrust aggressively into your cunt and at this point you probably started bruising. Glancing down between the two of you watching as his cock pulled out of you then back into you, each time he pulled out you noticing some blood coating the base of his cock. “N-Nagi stop, I’m bleeding. Stop.” You said more aggressively using your hands to push him away, he still wouldn’t stop. “I-Ice.” He halted his movements and pushed himself up to look down at you.

“Get off of me.” You harshly said pushing him off and throwing your legs off the side of the bed, standing up you tried to take a step forward but ended up falling onto your ass. You heard him moving in the bed, “don’t fucking touch me.” You said standing up and walking out the room and into the guest bathroom that was downstairs, starting the bath water you sat on the edge of the tub rubbing your aching and bruising thighs. What the hell had gotten into him, he didn’t even give you a warning he just came home and pulled you into the bedroom. No prep, foreplay…nothing.

Your head started pounding and tears were forming in your eyes and the more you kept replaying the last few hours in your head the more tears that fell. You were so distracted that you failed to notice how high the water was getting but you stopped it in time. Dipping into the water you laid there trying to process your next moves and thoughts on what you wanted to do. You definitely didn’t want to see Nagi for a few days atleast, you needed time.

Pulling you from your thoughts a couple of firm knocks sounded on the door, you hesitated for a moment not wanting to respond. “Y/n…I’m sorry. C-Can we talk please.” He spoke softly not wanting to speak to harshly or loudly so that he wouldn’t scare you. Staring down at the water your hands fidgeted with each other before responding, “Nagi, I need space. I’m going to stay with my parents until further notice.” The door knob started turning and a repeated sets of knocks kept hitting against the door, “wait y/n let’s talk about this please.” “Nagi I don’t want to talk. Leave me alone.” The noise stopped and the sounds of his receding footsteps set a bit of ease in your soul.

Once done with your bath you got dressed and started packing your bag to leave. Nagi sat on the edge of the bed watching you move back and forth from the closet to the dresser to the duffle bag. “We can’t talk about this?” He spoke trying to reach out to touch you but you flinched and he took that as a tale tale sign to stop. You chose not to say anything and just left your apartment, Nagi didn’t try to follow your or anything. He just watched from the window as you got in your car and drove off to your parents house.

It’s been two weeks, two weeks since you’ve spoken to Nagi or even seen him. You’ve refused to talk to anyone really, and you haven’t gone to his games that you’ve never missed. Ever. Out of the five years you’d been dating it’s like the sweet lax boyfriend that you know and love had died down. “Y/n honey.” You sat up rubbing the sleep from your eyes, your mother walked into the room with a tray filled with lunch foods and set it down right in front of you. “I’ve never been served lunch in bed.” You joked quickly pinning up your hair into a claw clip then grabbing the fork your mom handed you.

“Did you and Seishiro fight?” She asked moving a piece of hair out of your face, “something like that.” You responded sticking a piece of baked chicken in your mouth and salivating at the taste, “baby, if it’s something small then it could be fixed.” Her hand moved from your head down to your back and slowly rubbed up and down before leaving the room. Your phone started buzzing repeatedly and you were dead set on ignoring it but it wouldn’t stop buzzing no matter how many times you pressed decline it just kept ringing.

Grabbing the phone you saw the caller ID, it was switching between Isagi and Reo. Answering the next call that came through you put the phone up to your ear clearing your throat to prepare for this conversation. “Hello?” “Y/n, you have to get to the hospital. Nagi got in an accident.” Jumping up from the bed you accidentally knocked the tray onto the ground while falling on top of it. “I-Is he okay?” “He was out for a couple of days, but he just woke up and he was asking for you.” You quickly responded that you’d be there in a few minutes then hung up the phone.

Your parents came running into the room, “sweetie are you okay?” Your mother asked leaning down to help you up, “sei got into an accident.” You could barely talk let alone see as you sat on the bed trying to wipe away the constant stream of tears. “Here, get dressed. I’ll drive you, you can’t drive in this state.” Your father spoke walking out the room with your mother right behind her, you put on the sweatshirt and joggers which both happened to be Nagi’s clothes.

Running into the room you caught everyone’s attention, ignoring the stares you ran over to a sleeping white haired boy. He was bandaged up and he looked honestly like shit, bags under his eyes, hair messy, but that could be from a lot of things. “Is he sleeping?” You asked feeling your mom walk up behind you and holding your so that you knew she was there. “Yes, he just fell asleep.” Isagi said awkwardly rubbing his hands together, it grew silent in the room for a while until the sudden speed up of the heart monitor got everyone’s attention.

“What’s going on?” You asked walking closer staring dead at the monitor and not at the pair of grey eyes burning holes into the side of your face. “Y/n.” Your blood ran cold at the croaky voice calling out for you, looking down at him he tried to lift his hand to hold onto yours but you pulled back. “We’ll give you some privacy honey.” Your mother said gesturing for everyone to leave the room, it was quiet between the two of you. You especially didn’t want to speak up, now that you saw with your eyes that he was okay you didn’t want to be there. The room was suffocating.

“You’re still mad at me…” he spoke with a more relaxed and smoother voice, clearing your throat you sat down at the edge of the bed leaning against the footboard. “How did you get in an accident?” He sighed and used whatever strength he had to push himself up so that he was leaning against the back of the bed. “I couldn’t focus at practice so I took Reo’s keys so that I could come see you.” He looked up at you expecting you to look at him with a sympathetic look, “I said I needed space. You know you don’t drive so why would you ignore my request and put yourself in danger?” “Because I needed to see you. To talk.” Rolling your eyes you crossed one leg over the other and held your hands onto your lap.

“You couldn’t handle two weeks without talking to me?” You asked glancing in his direction, “no I couldn’t.” “You ignored me and used me as a housemaid sex doll Nagi. How do you think I felt for six months? And you never came to me to tell me what was wrong.” His gaze never left yours as the tears started to form, “what did I do that made you so pissed at me? Nagi you hurt me, badly at that. Do you get that?” You said turning your attention back towards the door that at any given moment you were ready to walk out of.

“I got an offer in the states.” Frozen for a moment you blinked a couple of times before looking over at him, “okay and what does that have to do with me?” He sighed and started rubbing his eye that was most likely aching. “I knew you weren’t going to want to move to the states with me and I know how much you hate long distance. I got upset because I felt like you were kind of holding me back.” Scoffing you stood up walking towards the door ready to open it but he yelled telling you to stop. “Are you seriously blaming you for not taking the offer? How could you know what I was going to say Nagi?” “I know how you are!” He responded trying not to yell.

“Obviously you don’t. I would’ve told you to take the offer and if you needed me to go with you then I would have why? Because I’m fluent in three different fucking languages and I’d never want to inhibit you from getting better. Nagi I’m one of your biggest supporters but you’ve failed to notice that and as a result you treated me like shit for six months. I can’t believe you…I don’t even know if I want to be with you anymore.” Plopping back down on the bed a tear slid down your cheek and you wiped it away letting out an exhausted sigh and looking at something in the corner of the room.

“I don’t want to break up. I should’ve talked to you about it, I’m sorry Y/n.” He leaned forward gently grabbing at the hem of the jacket you were wearing, “if you really knew me you knew I would never doing anything to hold you back. I’ve supported you in every decision you’ve ever made-” you were interrupted by your own choked sobs. “Y/n I’m sorry. I was so mad at myself that I blamed you. And actually took it out on you. No amount of words can express how sorry I am.” He spoke leaning forward to wrap his bandaged arms around your waist, he pulled you closer scooting you towards him. He pulled you onto his lap and held you so that you were laying your head on his shoulder.

“Nagi, I think we should take a break.” You said feeling your own heart break at your words, you didn’t want too. You wanted to to stay together and work this out but it looks like he needed time and space from you. “I don’t want to take a break. I did some hard thinking while you were gone and I can’t possibly imagine my lonely and soon to be miserable life without you. I fucked up. Badly and I’m sorry again.” Repositioning yourself you laid your back against his chest trying not to press to much of your body weight on him. He kept his arms wrapped around your waist while you sat there fiddling with your fingers, “when we get you home and in bed. We need to have a long conversation about us. I just can’t forgive you that easily Nagi.” “Stop calling me that.” He said leaning his chin on your shoulder and pressing his cheek against yours.

“I’m Sei to you. I’m sorry for everything I did. I love you angel.” You both let out a sigh sitting in silence for a few minutes, “can I kiss you?” He asked in a whisper noticing how you were slowly falling sleep, “mhm.” You responded positioning yourself to where he had full access to your face, he leaned in placing a quick peck on your lips then pulling away. “What the hell was that?” You asked opening your eyes to stare at him, his still expression never changed as you grabbed his face forcing him to actually kiss you. The only thing that forced you two to pull away from each other was his accelerated heart rate monitor going off right next to the two of you. “Sorry it’s been two weeks since I’ve seen you, and I can’t lie I’m nervous as fuck.” You laughed rubbing the top of his head in admiration and comfort.

[grilde1chesse]

AUGH plagued by the visions once again (metaltango brain rot)......

thinking about how upset & disappointed Krauser gets if you die before he transforms. he seems disappointed in Leon's lack of progress ("What the hell were you doing two years?" and "Everything I taught you... What a waste."). he sees Leon as a worthy rival (the chrisker & kreon parallels never stop it seems....), and was expecting a somewhat equal match.

its clear in the first encounter with Krauser he doesn't actually intend on on killing Leon (yet, at least), and treats the sparing as less of a fight and more of a training session (likely why hes so upset if Leon dies during it tbh lol). while i'm not a professional... the beginning of their fight in the first encounter (up until Leon deliberately slashes at Krauser), the attacks seem memorized, like a choreographed dance more than anything (a metal tango if you will ;-)). it looks like a memorized training exercise, something that only ends after Leon deviates from the "dance" and attempts to slash at Krauser.

not once but multiple times Krauser has access to Leon's throat & other vital points yet makes no real move to hit them (holding his knife to leon's throat, giving him time to get up when knocked down, etc. etc.). again Krauser treats the fight as a training exercise, from his behavior down to the way he holds his knife. same with the later encounters with him, if not in his actions than in his words; critiquing Leon and insulting him when caught off guard ("Sloppy!" "Embarrassing!" "You've made it all this way, but you haven't learned a thing! I have to say, I'm disappointed")

during their encounter post Krauser's transformation he doesn't seem as upset when Leon dies, rather a different form of disappointment (likely less towards Leon's training & skill, but instead that he refused to accept the "gift"/plaga. "You would've done well to accept this power for yourself."). its likely he didn't expect Leon to win, and was planning on killing him once revealing his powers ("I'm not surprised you made it this far!" & "Give up! My strength is without equal!"). it's as if all the earlier fighting/training was simply him playing with his food (foreplay cough cough).

a couple lines that stood out to me were: "Anything to make the pretty boy feel special." "You rely on those pretty blues too much." "I want to see you writhe." "After all, I know your potential better than anyone." "I guess I’ll make the first move." "Shut your mouth, you wouldn’t want to die with it open."  "You were wide open" "You’re too soft." "You're still a kid holding on to fantasies of whats right and wrong."

also, unrelated but smth i noticed that i found cool was how Krauser switches his knife from one hand to the other & is able to fight with both equally well. not sure if this is a specific fighting technique (possibly not, as a good amount of his tactics are mirrored by Leon besides this one, meaning he likely wasn't taught it (or was unable to master it for whatever reason.).) or if Krauser is ambidextrous.

link to some of the death scenes + dialogue i referenced in this (^_^) unnecessary plugin thats very important i promise

bonus pictures of my favorite metaltango genre: "gay porn is straighter than this" (all from this post)

[cephei-ea]

The Constant (Geto)

CHAPTER TWO

Warnings: angst, descriptions of vomit, derogatory behavior, foreplay, fingering, possessiveness

Genre: angst, smut (<400 words)

Word Count: ~4.0k

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As the days passed, the summer heat melted into fall and the air began to nip at your skin instead of warm it. It was the strangest, almost absurd feeling of not having Suguru at your side.

If you’d spoken to yourself from just four months ago, you would never believe what had happened. Suguru, in all of his righteous, vengeance seeking glory, nearly went looking for Gojo, his best friend in the world. It was many weeks, maybe a month or two of enduring the feel of misplacemnt in your shared home before you decided that the consequences of staying by Suguru’s side, as well as the affects on your mental and physical health were dire enough to finally leave.

No doubt, it demanded a level of self control and will you weren’t sure you had.

You love Suguru Geto.

You love Suguru.

How could you leave him? How was it possible for you to go out of your way,

to put in all of your effort to blatantly leave behind and give up the very last piece of your heart that resided with Suguru?

The man you had revolved your world around, your love, in all honesty, was too far gone. Though his view hadn’t changed much, the one constant in his morality was his love for you and the devotion he held for Gojo as his best friend despite their separation. It took months, and Suguru proposing new ideas that shook you to your core in order to convince yourself that you were better off without him.

And that he was better off without you. Whatever sense of normalcy you could help Suguru hold onto following his defection, you would accept.

You love Geto Suguru.

He made you one.

He made you whole

Together, you belonged.

___

So you spoke. “He was-..” a melancholy in your voice that wouldn’t likely vanish without considerable time, or the right puzzle piece in your existence. “He was going too far. He said how he was going to come find you because you disrespected him so badly by seeing me.” A guttural but quiet moan spilled from you. “I couldn’t let him.” Your brows furrowed, a thick ball of saliva in your throat that wouldn’t pass down. “I love him, Satoru.” The can of beer in your hand sloshed, your hand loosening around the metal. Gojo mirrored you, his own can in his hand, but almost filled to the top. It was rare that he got drunk off of the alcohol from convenience stores. He would have them specially crafted for himself if he wanted to beat his tolerance. Still, he sat with you as you drank your sorrows away, the empty that Geto had left in your chest was irreplaceable, a thick and profound melancholy blanketing over your soul as you blabbed about all the things you didn’t say when you were sober.

Satoru was over for a visit, knowing how much you’d been struggling with the breakup; he said he had alcohol and a shoulder to cry on. It was an offer that was hard to pass up.

The sorcerer was surprised to find that it was the same apartment you lived in prior to moving in with Suguru after your defect. You explained how despite being on the market, the fact that the two strongest curse users once lived in this apartment was enough to drive tenants away. Even the neighbors had moved out.

“I don’t want to side with him but it makes no sense why you would have followed him. He left of his accord.” You quickly shook your head, placing your face between your palms, unable to keep still. Suguru and Satoru had a friendship that should not and could not have been cracked by anything, not even his defect. Not even the years they spent apart. To think that you’d gotten in the way of something so beautiful and strong, to think that it was your fault that they would fight. All because you were selfish enough to meet with Satoru during Suguru’s absence— it heart breaking. A form of betrayal not quite prominent, yet still deep enough to cut your love. Satoru had to stop himself from reaching out to you and gripping your hand in his own, as though to take the pain from you and bear it for himself. He was the strongest, he could take it.

“That bastard.” your voice cracked, involuntary gasps from your heavy lungs erupting suddenly, your hiccups interrupted your speech. “He keeps texting and texting and calling over and over again I can’t bear it anymore, I can’t keep doing this. It’s tearing me apart to ignore those texts. He’s genuine, I know he’s genuine.” The beer in your hand clanked to the ground, empty. Your head pounded, your stomach churning with bile that would surely amalgamate into a ball of sickness in your throat in due time. “I don’t even know why I did this. Toru, I’m not even sure if I did the right thing. Did I make things worse by leaving? Or was I enabling all this chaos by staying? I mean-”

Gojo clicked his tongue and he turned to you. “Don’t start with that shit. I hate the blame game.” He complained, unlike his usual upbeat self. “If your going to wallow in self pity, don’t do it in front of me.” His words were harsh, but the sadness in his eyes almost betrayed him. “I can’t help you.” A surge of frustration ripped through your limbs.

“Well I’m sorry I couldn’t be miss perfect jujutsu sorcerer, okay?? If you loved someone like I love him, you would understand.” Your voice was a deep cacophony of mental maladies unable to be interpreted. Gojo almost looked upset, a look he rarely sported, or maybe he easily masked with jokes and giggles. “I dont know what to think. Or do. Or..” the ends of your words began to meet the beginnings of the next ones, slurs and inaudible mumbles riddling your speech before Satoru was standing up and sitting beside you. “It feels like I knew every- was so sure of everything with him. What do I do with my extra time? There’s no one to cook a meal for, no missions or jobs to take, there’s no Nanako and Mimiko to teach math. Is this,” Gojo found that for the first time in ages, he was holding back the lump in his throat when he placed his large palm over your head and pressed your face into his chest. “meaningless?” Your voice was nothing but a short squeal that echoed in your empty living room. Gojo heard as you sniffled, and instead, let liquid drip down the bow above his lips from his nose, and he let his tears soak instead of wiping them, in fear you would notice.

It was maybe another 20 or 30 minutes before Gojo was releasing your sorrow soaked face and instead, placing a hand slowly and tentatively over yours, on your thigh. The movement was almost inperecptible, but a light touch encompassing your ice cold hand shocked you to gaze up at him. His eyes were just barely streaked with tears. A small but bright streak of light dotting his eyelashes a give away. Satoru looked at you in a way you knew you’d seen before, the same way he looked at Suguru before his defect. Gojo felt as his heat transferred into your hand and yours cooled his skin, and then his hands were interlacing with yours, every indent of his long fingers tying together with yours as he held you tightly. The hold was almost comforting, an insufficient but meek substitute for the hold you yearned for.

“I don’t understand you. All of this. All of this could have been avoided.” He spoke. Your ears were trained on the rain pattering at the windows, hardly picking up the inquiry that came from just beside you. “He couldn’t hurt me. I’d win. You didn’t need to do that.” The volume of his insistence increased, a cold bucket of water over your already trembling frame. Gojo was desperate when he looked at you and squeezed your hand in his, white hair loose and shadowing the usual glow of his blue eyes. Still, the darkness of your living room was not match for the brightness of the six eyes. Not when he could sense and nearly take on all your pain, his senses acute and on point with every movement you made.

Suguru Geto was different. His eyes did not shine like Gojos. Rather, they entranced and penetrated with an abyss of darkness that offered no rival. His hair was not white and short like Gojos, it cascaded down his back in a beautiful waterfall of shadows and deep, black water; soft and velvety to the touch. Suguru’s touch was not like Gojos cool ones; his skin was hot, feverishly warm enough to counter the ice of yours. Geto Suguru was nothing like Gojo Satoru. Gojo was upbeat, naturally understanding with his six eyes, and talkative. However, Suguru was quiet and pensive. He held true and raw understanding in a profound manner of skill he obtained from being considerate, kind and tempered.

In an instant, the lukewarm touch of Gojos hand was off of yours when you pulled away and stood, looking away so as to not progress a moment with him you had no interest in sharing. So instead, you explained.

“You don’t understand. It’s not about who would win.”

___

You sat by that same dam, hearing the loud crashing of water through its holes and the swaying of trees behind you. It was becoming warmer outside when you finally left Suguru that day. Now, the trees were green again and the water was still chilly but slowly warming from its prior frigid temperature.

April 27

It was your passcode and the first date in your series of journal entries in a while. You didn’t have too much to write about. When you did, you would talk to Sugu. He wasn’t here now, not since April 27th.

Two days after you left, probably when Suguru realized you weren’t just mad at him, and that this wouldn’t be so easily fixed, that was when you received the missed calls, the spamming texts, the location requests.

April 29

Suguru realized that your relationship

was not salvageable.

You weren’t being petty or throwing a tantrum, you’d left him. So when he called your phone and you didn’t pick up, he called another 15 times.

16 missed calls, 49 unread messages. Of course, they all consisted of similar complaints. Asking where you were, if you were being serious, if you were safe, to please answer, what happened? He’d even come to your new apartment a few times, though you were uncertain of how he found out the address. A month later, 47 missed calls and 78 unread messages. Suguru now sent you updates on his days, any big events; but most of all, when he missed you. When, similar to you, the ache in his chest grew unbearable and he took the risk of texting you knowing you would not respond.

And every Sunday, just like while you were together, he would send you a bouquet of flowers, your favorite kind. The ones with the petals soft enough to resemble clouds, color soft enough to relax you and scent warm enough to remind you of Suguru.

<<<

“Angel,” Geto begins, arms held loosely behind his back as he approaches you, nearing you by the stove as you prepare dinner. A quiet smile splits your face, eyes shining, it feels like days since Geto left for work. Although it’s only been a few hours, you turn on your heel and embrace him immediately, feeling cellophane and tissue paper beneath your touch. You back up immediately, eyes wide and staring up into his narrow ones; Suguru smiles. “You’re not supposed to ruin the surprise.” His even smile beams down on you from above, his arms swinging out in front of him and displaying the large bouquet of flowers he’s picked up. For a while, you can’t speak, only watching as he pushes your hair back and steps forward, pushing your back against he counter. You glance back, ensuring the stove was not behind you; Suguru beats you to you, his arm caging you from the right, blocking your access to the hot metal where your meal cooks.

“Baby..” a ball in your throat threatens to make you sob aloud so you press your nose into his chest and circle his lats with your smaller arms. His immediately comes to encircle you, pulling your body taut against him and pressing a loving kiss to your head. “I don’t remember telling you my favorite flowers.” You beam up at him, turning against his chest to the flowers and using both hands to haul the bouquet.

“Well, I do. The old couple selling them even gave me something for you.” He explains, rounding the corner of the kitchen and grabbing another flower from next to his belongings. He hands it to you, a single rose. The flower is gorgeous, made of rose tinted glass and a shiny green stem, the petals bounce rays of light and color off of them. Your jaw drops at the sight, staring between him and the crystallized flower. “Did he sculpt this??” Wonder and awe grace your features and Suguru places a large hand beneath your jaw, tilting your head up and placing a deep, enamored kiss against your lips as his body encases yours.

>>>

The scale must’ve been off. Everything seemed to be breaking these days. You step off the glass plate after holding your breath, a bit of air to make yourself heavier, maybe? Or maybe it was in anticipation of the weight displayed, knowing it would be lower than it should. 42 kilos. Far too below your average weight. Frighteningly so— you didn’t show Shoko, or Gojo, or Nanami, quickly hiding the plate in your closet when they would visit to check on you. You refused a therapist; they wouldn’t understand, not now. You swallowed upon glancing in the mirror, your eyes stung and your bottom lids were tinted red: exhaustion. A proper nights rest wasn’t something you came across lately, not since Suguru held you in his arms as you slept, not since before April 27th. You huffed a laugh of embarrassment, almost looking away before a familiar shadow tickled your back. And as you looked back to the mirror, there stood Suguru, his chest hovering just behind your back and his hands on your arms.

Bile.

His long, layered hair dripped down his shoulders, his bare torso exuding heat you would never forget the warmth of. He was leaned slightly over your shoulder, his face tilted toward your ear as the smell of his musk and cologne violated every pore of your body. The sweet embrace of his muscle corded arms and the capture of his scent made you the world tilt and you almost melted into the scent, the familiar comfort. But then a sharp sting of memories invaded your every pore. Sweet, sour, beautiful and everything you would never have again.

Stomach.

A pounding in your chest formed, you gripped your shirt, watching in a mind boggling mix of horror and elation as Suguru’s bare arms reached for the straps of your tank top. The smooth skin on hard chest rippled with every gentle, smooth and effortless movement he made to run the straps down your arms, allowing the airy garment to fall to the floor.

His gorgeous features did not twitch with judgement or anything except love and adoration when, through the reflection in the mirror, he displayed your bare chest to the both of you. You were so thin. Thinner than you should be. He should look away from the mirror before you, he should step away and dress himself and walk away forever when he sees the thin limbs you sport. But Geto didn’t even look away from the reflection of your eyes. Even the feeling of obligation to look down at your ugly body hurt your eyes and ushered tears to your eyelashes, he remained steady in his gaze on yours. Surely, he noticed your tears when they gathered. Surely, he felt your awfully cold skin tremble beneath his feather like touch, but his warm smile did not falter.

Churning.

You did not dare look away from mirror when the dangerous man behind you inched to the hem of your panties and slowly dragged them down the shapes of your thighs. You did not dare move when you felt his delicious, warm and familiar hands drag up to just below your breasts. This moment felt strangely familiar. Seven, three, two and then one inch from your nipples and you felt like you’d been here before. The tears, the sting in your eyelids and the sudden palpitations of your heart at the erotic scene in the mirror before you forced a few blinks out of you. Back to back, your eyes opened and closed to rid of the salty liquid threatening your cold skin. One, two, three, seven blinks and the tears were gone, taking Suguru with them as he disappeared from behind you when you opened your eyes.

You whipped your head around, finding the space behind you entirely empty and untouched, your clothes were removed but held within your own grip. The bile churning in your stomach came suddenly and unforgivingly as it demanded release from your confining belly, your body rejecting it just as much. In your toilet, tears, vomit and snot all expelled from you, leaving their host in a heaping mess of whimpers and sobs as your body rejected the memory of Suguru Geto.

___

It felt as though you’d swallowed a ball of emotion, your throat constricted by the feeling of sorrow overcoming you. The first night that you received a bouquet from Suguru prior to your separation, you were alone in your apartment. And somehow every time you received another set of flowers, Suguru managed to read your mind and send you a color or a fragrance that was particularly on your mind that week. That’s another reason why you loved Sugu, he knew you almost too well. With his blue flowers came a calm, melancholy mood for your week that whispered into your ear that you would never recover from him, late at night as you lay curled up beneath your feather filled quilts and blankets.

With the orange bouquets came anger, crashing out and breaking things around the apartment in a fit of disbelief and utter hysteria. With red came intense longing, an ache in your abdomen and the red hot desire to feel his enormous hands press you into the mattress. With green came a feeling that maybe one day, these feelings would pass. A hope in the back of your head that allowed you a moment or two, or even a day or two, of salvation from your eternal heartbreak.

Maybe one day, however far in the future, the bouquets would mean nothing to you, your anger toward him, yourself and your situation would dissipate, and the feeling of an empty existence would fade. One day, you would move on.

Yet still, time passed and the hefty feeling of displacement was prominent in your chest and still leaked into your fingertips, where your skin went cold with the changing weather. It was weird to lay in an empty bed. The blankets never made up for the scorching heat that accompanied Suguru Geto, they never came close. The nights spent accompanied by your friends didn’t make up for the lack of his presence, the night could always be more fun if Sugu was beside you. The meals you made whenever your hunger got out of control did not replace those you made with Sugu, the flavor he brought was much more potent. An ingredient you no longer possessed, one only he could add, and one you would not find ever again. The alcohol did not serve as a distraction, nothing made up for the way Suguru could quell the raging emotions inside you.

Nothing was working.

<<<

Suguru’s arm stretched from above you, reeling you from your deep slumber and tenderly wrapping around your slender frame. The touch was immediately welcomed as his skin molded with yours and your differences in heat melded to create a perfect combination of warmth that settled deep in your tummy. You smiled eagerly as a deep groaned escaped his yawn, curling into his burly side and resting your head against his hard chest early in the morning.

“Angel,” he began, illiciting a churning of your gut, a warmth in your cheeks and a liquid between your bare legs that really only he could instigate. You purred against his skin, feeling his muscled arm press against your waist and into his chest. He wasted no time in lowering his head to your cheek and pressing a few tender kisses into your skin before pulling you even closer, his other arm assisting its brother in pulling your legs over his waist and urging you to straddle him. You never had to put in the work, Suguru effortlessly lifted you with the mere tips of his fingers to lay you above him, an easier position in which to hold your naked frame against his. He was quick to lift the covers and settle them over your body, running his palms over the course of your skin and memorizing every indent of your body as though he were studying for an important exam. Always the intellect.

“You were made for me, Angel.” He whispered into the crevice of your shoulder, your head resting gingerly against his chest and completely blanketing him with your body. “This, and only this, is real. Only for me.” His hands find your ass and his gripping the flesh there, dragging his fingers tightly up your sides to brush across your breasts. “This body was made for me.” And then his voice is a guttural groan, his finger dashing down to your legs across his waist to tickle the flesh soaked between them. As your lips part and his skin delves into the wetness between those legs he’s claimed as his, they plunge to meet your insides and open them up for him. He always knew how. How to will your leg apart with just his words, how to pry your walls open with just his fingers and how to use his other hand to press your arched back hard into his chest, forcing your legs further apart to where it stung in your cunt.

His fingers are so, so, so fucking long, and his skin is so, so, so hot as it splits you open for the nth time, preparing you for yet another session of body crippling love.

“I love you, Angel.” He whispered against your skin and you felt him hard against your abdomen. “I love you-“ and then his so, so, so long fingers were plunging endlessly into your cunt, ripping moans and screams from your lips. He swallowed each one with passion, his lips never leaving yours unless it was his own name on them. The only sound he allowed was that of his name on your lips, so long as it was loud and accompanied a tight squeeze around the two, three, four fingers he lodged up into your cunt. Those fingers that easily curled into your bowed body.

“Suguru-“

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

>>>

And then an orgasm ripped through you, a sorry excuse for a substitution for the ones he scorched your body and branded your uterus with. The fingers he would expertly press into your body as though he were a starved man, as though he could die without your contact, were now replaced meekly by your shorter, thinner ones. The soft lips he kissed you with, that he bit hickeys into your neck with, were now gone. The hips that rocked into yours and the thick, muscle corded thighs that smacked heavily against yours were now but a memory. The body that once offered you night after consecutive night of unmatched pleasure and deep, rough, aggressive love, was now a distant flicker of your past as your fingers slipped away from your panties and moved to remove your covers.

No amount of alcohol, partying, or men were ever— would ever be enough to replace Suguru. Or even pretend to substitute him.

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