#though obviously both of them have plenty of time to show what they can do kaksks they are like 20-ish now it’s not like they’ve retired

[garciapimienta]

who are your favorite players ever?

Oh this is hard and I’m sure I’ll leave some people out but from the top of my head:

Pirlo, Johan (though the love for him is combined between the player and the coach and all of it), Kubala, Hristo Stoichkov, Oscar Cardozo, Gigi Buffon, Busi, Xavi, Iniesta and, obviously, Leo who is just so special he would probably be in another category

[canthelpit0]

Fake?

Pairing: Matt sturniolo x Reader

Word count : 3.2k +

Summary: matt and reader have known each other since forever. And they’ve been attached at the hip since forever. But what happens when they start to just let everyone think they’re dating, since it’s too hard to convince them otherwise anyway..

Warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, (sort of) fake dating, use of y/n, sweet talk, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, baby, etc.), gentle sex, oral fem!Reciving, unprotected, creampie, 2nd person.

(A/N: sorry this is actually so short. But I wanted to write something more fluffy for Matt.)

Being childhood friends with the triplets there was always something going on in your life.

You and Matt have been tied at the hip since you were just babies. And sometimes it felt like he was more dependent on you than his own triplet brothers.

You were always together, hanging out. Good thing you were neighbors.

Back when you were younger it was even worse. You’d always sleep in the same bed. Whether at his or your house, you were always snuggling into each other.

You’d hold hands whenever you went anywhere. You made his anxiety better.

You were always there for him. And always being there for him, you were there for his first panic attack. You didn’t know what to do, but just your presence made him calm down faster.

How close you were was questionable, It was cute when you were kids, but you were both seniors in high school now.

Obviously, you were best friends with Nick and Chris too. Yet with Matt, it was different.

He was popular around school. Well not really him. But he was known because he is a triplet. Matt out of the three of them was the most introverted so naturally, he seemed the most mysterious.

Most people also thought you two were dating. And you did nothing to stop them from thinking that. After all, why would you care about what they say?

Matt was currently pacing around in front of you though. You were sitting on your bed, propped against your headboard, as you just watched him move around.

Contrary to popular belief, The most you and Matt had ever done is kiss. And that was only because you got dared to in middle school. And it was only one time.

“C’mon y/n/n please” he whines dramatically. Matt comes over to your bed draping his upper body across your legs, his hands are clasped together dramatically.

“It’s like we’re already dating anyway.”

Matt and his brothers have a shared YouTube that they started recently, about being triplets. You have featured in it plenty of times.

People were shipping you and Matt. And people in real life also thought you were dating.

So Matt being scared to be shipped with other content creators, or any girl he was around, wanted you to pretend to be his girlfriend.

You wouldn’t even have to change anything about the way you act, really. You two already act like a couple.

“Matt” you sigh your hands finding their way to his hair. You card through it gently rubbing his scalp.

“Y/n/n please” he begs again. His upper body is draped on your legs. His lower body is kneeling on the floor next to the bed.

Matt didn’t like being shipped. But he’d been shipped with you all his life. And if he had a ‘girlfriend’ people would stop getting into his business.

“Okay” you give in. Because of course, you do. This is your long-time best friend. You can never say no to him.

He perks up. “Really??” He sits up on his knees on the floor. His arms are still draped across your lap.

“Yeah, but what does it In tail ?” You ask slowly with a slight smile creeping up your face at the way he reacted.

“Nothing, we just say we’re dating” he shrugs. You already acted like it.

“Y’know and maybe kiss sometimes” he shrugs with a slight smile. He wasn’t going to kiss you every time you were on camera, that’d feel forced. He was just gonna kiss you whenever he felt like it, and use that as a way to show affection.

“Nothing we haven’t done before” he adds jokingly.

In a rush of boldness, you pull him up by his shirt and pull him towards yourself. He gets on top of you with a teasing smile, and your lips crash together.

It’s a sweet normal kiss, there are no sparks. It’s just a simple press of lips.

Once he pulls away you chuckle. “What’re we gonna tell Nick and Chris?” You question. “Are they gonna know?”

“Just let them think we’re dating too, I'm pretty sure they’re already convinced” Matt chuckles looking down at you fondly.

He gets off of you, rolling to the side of your bed. He pulls the covers up and gets underneath. Matt pulls you down too, so that you’re lying snuggled up in his arms.

★ ★ ★

So that is how you two started dating. And that was two years ago now.

At that time they’d only had around 20k YouTube followers and way more on TikTok. And now they were at 6 million.

You were also a YouTuber and TikToker now. Except you post whenever you want to.

You’d moved out from Boston to LA with them because, oh you’re still Matt��s girlfriend.

You have your own bedroom. Though you don’t use it very much. You’ve always loved sleeping in the same bed as Matt, cuddling all night, and that never changed.

People believe you’re dating. Which was the whole point. Even your families do, with no suspicion at all.

Except what nobody knows, is that you and Matt have never done anything further than make out. Even with two years of dating. You just never cared to really.

But you did everything else, cuddle, share sweet kisses, go on dates, hang out, and be close to each other.

It was almost like you were actually dating.

And the reason why it lasted so long with barely any problems, was because you and Matt never had an eye for anyone else. It was always you two against the world.

You and Matt were sitting on the couch watching some Netflix show. Nick and Chris were not home, they were at some influencer party.

Suddenly you turn your body and get on top of Matt. You leave a long kiss on his lips, catching him off guard.

“Matt.”

He looks back at you as you sit there straddling his lap. His hands snake to your waist to hold you. Your hands resting on his shoulders.

“Mhm?” He hums in response.

“You know how we’ve done almost everything a couple would?” You ask slowly.

He raises an eyebrow at the statement but nods.

“How about we-“ you cut yourself off for a moment. You click your tongue thinking of how to word it. “Can we fuck?”

That catches Matt off guard. Since it’s once again not what he expected. He pauses looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks again seeing if he heard that correctly.

“Yes please?” You say slowly. But before you can question if it was a smart idea to ask that or not, he’s already lifting you and carrying you to your shared bedroom.

He throws you onto the bed gently. You tell at the impact but before you know it Matt’s lips are on yours again.

He pulls away for a moment to swiftly pull his shirt over his head and throws it away. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but this was different. This felt… sensual, almost.

He gets on top of you, as you lay in the middle of the king-sized bed. He showers you with kisses, slowly trailing his kisses to your jawline and neck.

You can feel him suck on your collarbone leaving a Purple bruise. Your breath hitches as you start to feel his hand start to run over your side.

You keep looking up at him through lust heavy eyes. You watch his every move anticipating what he’ll do next.

“Want me to make you feel good sweetheart?” He teases, his tone ever so soft.

Ever since you’ve known Matt was a romantic. Almost even a hopeless romantic. But maybe it was you all along.

“Please” you breathe out. Matt pulls away slightly his eyes looking over your face. He looks fond. Like you’re the best thing to ever have happened to him.

He starts to tug on your shirt. “Can I?” He whispers. This entire thing feels so incredibly romantic and loving.

You nod, shifting slightly to let him take your shirt off.

Once his eyes fall on your bra he smiles. He smiled fondly like this was all he had been waiting for all his life.

“You’re so gorgeous.“

He mumbles under his breath. His kisses go back to your collarbone, leaving even more love bites on it.

“I’ll make you feel good sweetheart, I promise.” He smiles. He places a sweet peck on your cheek before he starts to trail them down your body.

Once he reaches your pants he tugs on them lightly before you whine out an agreement.

As soon as it’s off he starts to admire your half naked body in front of him. Matt perches between your thighs leaving a teasing peck on your clothed clit.

“Please” you sighs. You push yourself back on him. Matt chuckles at the movements. He pushes you down by your hips.

“Patience honey” he chuckles teasing you by kissing up your inner thighs. He was purposefully not stimulating the part you needed him the most.

“Matt please” you whine throwing your head back on the bed as you wait for Matt to do something, anything.

“Look at me baby.” He hums softly kissing up your inner thigh. He rubs your thighs slightly while you pick up your head to look back down at him.

You groan dramatically. “Matt”

The way Matt looks between your things like that only serves to make you even wetter.

He chuckles finally starting to pull your panties off gently. He slides them off and throws them across the room. Be careful not to put any pressure on you.

He smiles down at you. Matt sits up between your legs. “How about we take this off yeah?” He hums. His hands trails over your bra. You eagerly lean up to give him access to take your bra off.

He also threw that across the room.

You sigh, laying back down dramatically. Your chest moves at the impact of you laying back down.

Matt eyes lock on your chest

He smiles fondly. He takes one of your tits in his hand starting to fondle it gently.

“You’re so gorgeous, baby” he smiles leaning down for a moment to kiss you, and then trailing his kisses down your throat and between the valley of your breasts.

You let out a soft breath feeling his lips press against all these sensual places.

“Matt please. Come on” you whine dramatically laying flat on your back waiting for him to do something. Anything.

He chuckles, deciding to speed up the teasing. He places himself back between your thighs. Matt then pulls your leg over his shoulders.

“I wanna make this memorable for you.” He says. But before you can respond he licks a bold stripe up your pussy.

You gasp at the feeling. You close your eyes briefly and then look at him.

Before you can complain about the lack of contact, he leaves a kiss on your clit before starting to suck on it.

His groans were sending vibrations through you. he was sucking and swirling his tongue, lapping up your juices. He was eating you out like you were his last meal.

You were chanting his name like a prayer while he just kept vigorously eating you out. Your hands stay tangled in the messy waves, you gently tug on it.

Until without warning you felt his fingers plunge into your tight aching cunt. You feel him start to move them as you feel yourself get closer to the edge.

“Matt- im-“ you get cut off by a moan when Matt curls his fingers at just the right spot.

His eyes stay focused on you. He watches you with a sharp gaze. Watching the way you react.

His movements speed up even more. And before you can warn him you feel the knot in your stomach snap.

He continues to eat you out, lapping up your juices, until you calm down. He licks a final stripe up your pussy watching you shudder at the slight overstimulation.

You tug at his hair and he finally comes back up with his chin coated in your juices. He wipes his chin off with the back of his hand, grinning.

“You’re doing so well for me princess.” Matt smiles leaning down and pressing another sweet kiss to your forehead.

“Matt, please fuck me.” You breathe out. You’re tone begging.

You’ve known Matt all your life. He was your childhood best friend. The guy who you’ve been fake dating for years now. The guy who treated you like a princess, despite your relationship only being for show.

And yet all you wanted to do right now is be with him. Be as close to him as possible.

In hindsight. All of this was inevitable. You’ve always been a little too close, a little too touchy. You’ve always known too much about each other.

That was the reason why most of your, and his other relationships didn’t work out.

“ ‘Corse sweetheart.” He smiles, unbuckling his belt and swiftly removing his jeans.

His dick is big. And that’s not even exaggerated. it was bigger than you expected. But it somehow made sense for him.

The tip was the same rosy color he had on his blushing cheeks. It wasn’t too vainy just the perfect amount. You knew from the size that it’d mildly hurt.

You whine at the feeling of him sliding his cock through your soaked folds.

You feel Matt gently push in. You throw your head back at the feeling making sure to keep your eyes on him.

“Fuck you’re so big” you breathe out. Only his tip was in, but the girth was enough to have you drooling.

“I’ll take it slow, honey” he looks down at you fondly.

And all that fake dating, fake love thing you guys have been doing for years was starting to feel just a little too real.

Once he fully bottoms out he sighs. He doesn’t move for a little, letting you get used to the feeling.

“You can move” you mumble under your breath.

“Your wish is my command princess” he jokes slightly. Matt starts to thrust in and out of you. His pace is gentle and slow.

And with the way he is leaning over your body, keeping the eye contact, it seems so loving and sensual.

“Oh my god Matt-“ you throw your head back, your eyes closing.

Matt was just looking down at you all fond and loving. He looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world. The only woman whom he cares for.

“Fuck- I love you” you breathe out. Without even realizing what you were saying. You’ve said I love you to each other so many times. Yet all those times it was for show or meant platonically.

But this. This was not. You were in love with your best friend. The guy who you’ve been sort of fake dating for two years.

“Oh? do you?” Matt replies teasingly.

He leans down starting to kiss down your neck once again. And the feeling of that only makes you even more aroused. Your breath hitches when you realize what you’d just admitted.

Before you can panic though, Matt starts talking.

“I love you too”

He wasn’t slowing down. He didn’t seem phased by the confession. Like he knew, or was expecting it.

“Do you?” You breathe out.

Matt pulls back slightly. He looks down at you as you timidly open your eyes again. Your eyes lock on his once more. He stares at you with all the love and lust in his body.

“I should’ve told you earlier.” He admits. He lets out a slight laugh at the idea.

His eyes trail your body. Admiring every curve and feature you have.

“It’s okay.” Your eyes are half-lidded, watching him watch you. “Are you mine now? For real?”

“I’m all yours, princess”

And that sentence alone had you rolling your eyes into the back of your head. the way he was talking mixed with the sensual thrusts he was giving. It all felt so good.

It just felt so intimate and loving.

He leans down again his lips capturing yours.

You sloppily kiss back. His thrusts remain deep and sensual.

One of his hands moves to your breast again starting to fiddle with it, occasionally flicking the nipple.

He pulls away from the kiss. He changes hands giving just as much attention to your other breast.

“You wanna come for me baby?” His tone is light and teasing, but laced with so much lust and affection.

“Please”

He smiles pulling himself up. He yanks your legs over his shoulders, readjusting. He starts to harshly thrust into you.

The new angle making him hit deeper. He was hitting every spot in you, making you weak in your knees.

You whine and moan loudly, not bothering to keep quiet since no one is home. You chant his name like it’s the only thing you can think of- which it is.

His breath is sharp too, he lets out occasional groans which send tingles to your core.

He sounds so good.

Matt’s thumb finds its way to your clit starting to rub in it harshly.

“You’re squeezing me so tight honey.” He lets out a harsh breath.

You can only whine in response. The feeling of him drilling into your cunt is overwhelming. You feel like you couldn’t talk, even if you tried.

“You gonna come?” He huffs starting to pick up the pace, both with rubbing on your clit and fucking your cunt.

You feel the intense pressure of the knot, ready to snap in your stomach.

“Let go for me.”

As soon as the words leave his lips you feel yourself clench against him. your eyes close as you feel your orgasm wash over you.

He keeps thrusting into you, fucking you through your orgasm.

“Can I come in you?” Matt breaths out. And all you think to do is nod. You were on the pill, but Matt was gonna take the safe route and ask before he did it anyway.

As soon as you nod you hear his sharp breaths. His hips speed up. The sound of your lewd wetness and the sound of skin slapping is echoing loudly.

His hips start to stutter until he finally slows down.

He collapses on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

Matt keeps himself inside of you. You feel the way your combined juices leak out of you. You feel the warmth and closure of his body.

He pulls back again. He looks down at you. “So does this count as our new actual anniversary or are we gonna use the fake one?” He says his tone is half joking.

He had that goofy, almost giddy smile on his face. And his smile was making you smile.

“I don’t know we can have both?” You suggest.

After a moment of just staring, admiring each other he pulls out slowly so as to not hurt you.

He stares down at your pussy for a second. Looking at the way it looks all filled with his seed.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He smiles. He bites his lip when his eyes finally meet yours again.

“Can’t leave your pussy like this.” He teases, stealing another quick peck from your lips, making you smile.

Masterlist

(A/N: again sorry this is kinda ass, but I rlly like the concept 🫶🏼)

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolols

[nxtaliaistyping]

Batrogues | p links part two

(gotta be logged into twitter for links to work)

NSFW 18+. some new faces, some returning ones, part one here.

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

The Riddler:

If you beg for his attention while he’s working in his workshop, then he’ll leave you like this.

Secretly has a soft spot for bigger girls <3

He’s a classy guy, he loves lingerie

How he eats it after you stroke his ego

He likes you dripping and desperate for him

Honestly this is how I need him to fuck me

The Scarecrow:

What, you thought just because he used to be a professor, he’d be turned on by you dressing so crude? He’ll show you what he thinks

Edward is the closest thing he has to a friend, it would be rude for him not to share you with the riddler.

As a thank you for letting him have you, Edward gave you a present. Now you use it and send videos to Jonathan when he’s working <3

You help him get to sleep

Likes making you ride him

This but he’s wearing the scarecrow mask

Catwoman:

She gets a sick sense of pleasure when she seduces a woman whose in a relationship with a man

Takes you to expensive hotels just the fuck you in them

You told her and Harley that you wanted to be part of the Gotham City Sirens, but they said there was an entrance exam

Yeah, it doesn’t matter where you both are, she’ll just knock out anyone who stumbles upon you both

Breaks in to your house with her strap on under her suit so she can fuck you

Thank her for all the expensive gifts by getting on your knees

The Mad Hatter:

Once he found the toy under your bed, he knew he had to have you use it

Loves seeing you in such cute underwear

He also loves when you act all innocent, so he can feel like he’s corrupting you

How he treats his sweet Alice when you do what he says

And it helps when his Alice loves it as much as him

Though he likes when you take matters into your own hands

Deathstroke:

He owns plenty of handcuffs

If you try and ride him, this is how you’ll end up

Oh you’re wearing fishnets? Good luck

Where else should he cum, if not deep inside?

Yeah, he’s rough

But if it’s been a long day, he can be intimate too

Black Mask:

Makes you send videos like this all the time, the more embarrassing the dildo the better

What’s that? You don’t wanna do anal? Well then obviously you don’t want to be his best girl, do you?

You still have to look pretty, even when being punished

After coming back from a meeting

Unlike Scarecrow, he definitely isn’t shy about being into the whole schoolgirl outfit

As in incentive to his men, the lucky guy who earns him the most money that month gets front row seats to see this

Harley Quinn:

Harls doesn’t like to wait till you’re back from the club

She’s a threesome kinda girl

She loves your tits

Fuck her with the strap, so she can fuck you with the same one tomorrow <3

When you put her panties in her mouth, she came so quick

What happens when she invites you for a sleepover

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨

[worldsover]

Completeness ft. Yeseo, Mashiro

length ✦ 13.7k

genres ✧ gf!Mashiro, virgin!Yeseo

✦✧✦✧✦✧

There is exactly one axiom that matters. Mashiro is your loving girlfriend. All other truths are auxiliary. Yet, postulates exist that can carry weight to them and affect the system upon which this first and only truth is built. An example: Yeseo, Shiro's best friend, is something of a little sister to you both, and thus you make love to your girlfriend, and care for your girlfriend's friend as much as any guy should. For some reason, this unbreakable and absolute edict has been revised, softened, changed, and now truth itself is something that the two of them are… considering.

"Hey, what do you think of Yeseo?"

It's a Thursday night, and Mashiro's on top of you, her hand stroking your cock as she asks. It's not the kind of distraction you want while you're about to get off, but here you are.

"She's cute. Um, can be a bit of a handful sometimes."

"That's it?" Mashiro gives you a wry smile.

"What's with you? Why are you asking about her now of all times?"

Mashiro shrugs, but you don't believe it. She tugs down the neckline of her cropped top, showing off more of her breasts as they threaten to spill out of her bra. Between the sheen of sweat on her cleavage and the toned shape of her abs, that's a lot of skin and sexiness to swallow. Her fingers don't have to work long before you're fully erect.

"I mean, I'm just saying, she's gotten pretty hot lately."

You raise an eyebrow at her. "Hot? Since when?"

"Well, obviously now that she's an adult. And what, you think she's not hot, babe?"

You look away and groan. "I dunno, it's a bit weird." You're not even being political about your answer. That's just the truth.

Mashiro peels your eyes back to her when she takes your hand and brings it under her shirt. She's smiling like she's got a joke only she's privy to, even when you start pinching her nipples. At this point, she would usually start melting, and all clothes would be forgotten for at least another half-hour.

She doesn't.

Not that this is anywhere near Shiro's first time taking control of a situation, but the motive was always self-fulfillment, fucking out your orgasms to chase her own. Therefore, when Mashiro slaps your cock against her abs, you tense up in surprise and anticipation. She leans over to capture your shaft between her tits, inside the tight confines of her top. You thought that she thought that this shirt was too cute to ruin with stains of cum, but it seems like she's willing to sacrifice some clothes for whatever greater good. Her breasts are just big enough to make this possible, and while her skin is plenty soft and warm, she adds spit to the mix to make the passage nice and slippery.

"Ah, Shiro," you say.

Each time your tip pokes out of her shirt, Mashiro gives it extra attention—kissing, licking, suckling. The only reason you're not thrusting into her mouth is because she has your hips pinned to the bed. 

"So," she says, "Yeseo. Imagine her here."

"Wha..." You're dumbfounded, and it's not just by how Mashiro's mouth wraps around the head of your cock. That's nice though, and you could probably cum on her lips like this—you've done it before—but you're apparently in the middle of a conversation and it's very hard to reply when she's working you like this.

"Mm, tell me what you think of her. Be honest this time." Sure, Mashiro talks about her best friend a lot, but you never imagined that she'd be so cavalier about bringing any other person up while in bed. At the very least, you'd think she would broach this topic with a bit more tact, and a bit less tit-fucking.

Where to start is a dilemma, what with your brain functioning at half speed. "Uhhh. Purple hair." Gotta start somewhere. "She's… smart?" You're pretty sure that's it, right? That's everything there is to know about Yeseo. "She's like a sister."

Mashiro pulls back, relaxing the pressure on your dick, and you're both disappointed and relieved. "What if she were a little less like a sister?"

"Shiro, what do you want me to say?" You don't get to see her smile, since she's back to sucking on your tip, but you feel it.

"That you would dick down my bestie if that's what she needed?"

You open your mouth to deny it. "Well, I—" The next word should be a word, not a squeak. But that's what happens when she sucks on your dick while its length is stuffed into her tits. Her lips fit around your girth tight and they leave you with a parting lick. Makes your breath catch. You think about what she said. The fact that you're still hard says it all.

"It's okay, you can admit it. Yeseo's got such a pretty ass now, doesn't she?"

Your first thought is comparison: you want to believe that your girlfriend beats Yeseo in every department, and that's certainly true with the heft of her breasts as Yeseo's petite frame has a way to go before being able to swathe your member how Shiro currently is. Yet, you think about yesterday, how your eyes kept traveling to Yeseo's ass in her leggings and how that butt could be softer to the touch than your girlfriend's. Could be. Could be fluffier like a cloud, fuller like ripe fruit, rounder than a bubble ready to pop, and you don't want to admit you would pop it. Not really, so you're silent and tense, so what could be, isn't.

Mashiro notices, and pulls away from your cock. "Hah, thought so."

Shaking your head, clenching your jaw, you ask, "Why does it matter? Are you gonna be jealous?"

"Jealous? Of what, you ogling Yeseo? God no," Mashiro says, laughing, "she's so cute and tiny, I wouldn't blame you." She pauses, giving your length a few languid strokes up and down her tits. "If anything, I'm the opposite of jealous. Curious."

"Is that what opposite—"

She squeezes her tits together with an arm around her chest, your shaft in the most loving stranglehold. "I'm being serious. Just think about it. Okay?"

You sigh. "Fine, fine."

The conversation dies and gives way to the sound of wet slurps, soft moans, and the squelches of Mashiro's spit lubricating her titjob. Your toes curl as the pressure builds, and it's not long before you're close. And since her understanding of what close means to you is atomic-clock precise, she unsheathes your dick in the annoying nick of time. You can only laugh after all that—for all the times she's edged you, at least they were premeditated, or for a cause like a sudden visit from her parents.

"Fuck, babe, really?" You've had an infinite amount of patience for your lovely girl, so you're surprised at your own exasperation. You sit up, but then she pushes you back down to the bed with a hand to the chest. You take a deep breath, now grasping that this is all part of her plan, and that you should know better than to mistrust Mashiro for a second.

Mashiro leans over, your cock in her grip, the other hand slipping aside the wet white panties under her skirt. She doesn't bother getting them off properly, adjusting them to the side to reveal her trimmed mound and the swollen button peeking between pink lips. She lets your shaft rest against her pussy, then strokes the two together. Each pass of your cock along the underside of her clit has Mashiro breathing heavier, until she's panting like she's just finished a good work out. The wetness of her juices spreads on your shaft and her chest heaves in her cropped top while you need prison-grade handcuffs to keep from thrusting into her.

When the pressure's built enough, when your cock's about to burst, you're forced to watch your girlfriend rub herself to completion, your cock still in her grip. She cums before you, like an angel crying out for salvation, her blonde bangs sticking to the sweat of her forehead, though none of that stops Mashiro from jerking you off through your own orgasm. You moan her name as your hips buck and her thighs clench and her hand works in a blur.

The moments like this are where you realize your notions of Mashiro have been challenged, over and over. Loving is not so singular in meaning as you had thought, because when you first started having sex with your girlfriend, maybe a month after the first date, you honestly were making love. When you'd cum inside the condom while hugging her tight, that's when you two were done for the night.

But now loving means that you paint her abs in milky white, cum pooling into her belly button, spurts dribbling over her fingers, and then coat her pussy with the thick river flowing down her stomach. Plus, since you're still hard, might as well use that as lube for the ride of her life. You're not sure how you manage to keep up with Mashiro. Obviously, how she eats your cum from her fingers like it's candy, how her tits bounce now freed from her shirt and bra, and how her cum-creamed labia grips around your cock are all great incentive to push through your exhaustion. But in the recesses of your mind, the one part of your brain that isn't fixated on her, there is a small question. 

Small indeed. The same brand of small as your girlfriend. Five years younger.

Mashiro has gone and done it now. You're seeing the other girl in her face, the supposition, the thesis, your eyes blurring as Mashiro fucks down on you harder. Oh, damn, Yeseo really knows how to ride you well—wait, no. Your girlfriend's riding you well, her pussy milking your cock just right. Fuck. What the hell is wrong with you?

You groan, and you're not sure whether it's a cry of frustration or pleasure. Mashiro's face, Mashiro's tits, Mashiro's hips, Mashiro's tightening pussy, all of them are so nice and so warm and so tight and so wet and so every good that good can be. As if in that cute package of her body, your girlfriend has molded herself to be everything you need in a lover. She repeats the words for good measure: "I love you, I love you, oh, fuck, I love you!"

The same way loving used to mean something classic and rigid, taking her out to dinner or watching movies, loving now means that rigid takes on a different, more literal definition. That's Mashiro, growing as you grow, and in that way, you shouldn't be surprised that the topic of Yeseo—sweet, innocent Yeseo—isn't the end of it. Not even close.

Speaking of growing, the tension in your loins. Lewd, sloppy sounds intermix with a mess of Mashiro's cries while your hands squeeze too tightly the flesh of her breasts. 

You gasp and mindlessly call out "Shiro, Shiro, Yeseo, wait, I—" but you're cut off by Mashiro's tongue wrestling yours. Unbridled want, unmitigated desperation, she kisses you like a girl possessed, and there's no room to protest and figure out what the hell's happening. 

With no condom—it's been a long while since that—your load spills into Mashiro like she's an unwitting, impure bride, and by god, there's such a hellfire in your ears from her scream when the sin soaks through to her sinner womb. The pleasure blurs your minds, or more, her cunt does, and with the cum your dick oozes, the most you can offer when Shiro topples over you and collapses is a "Ah, mmh."

As your breathing calms, she lifts up her skirt and spreads her pussy, letting you see your second load ooze from her insides. 

"God, I needed that so bad," she says. Her voice is breathy, but there's a smile in it, and she crawls over to you and kisses you on the lips. Between the two of your bodies is a whole lot of sticky. You groan into her mouth, and then when she breaks off, she starts to pepper your lips and jaw with more kisses. "You wanted that too, huh?"

You wipe away a bead of sweat on her forehead. "Yeah. Of course. You're so fucking perfect, Mashiro." You run a hand through your hair. "Oh, fuck. Right, I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said..."

"Shh. I think I've made it pretty clear that I don't mind, right? I love you, it's okay."

You nod, laughing to yourself in disbelief is not some fancy dream. "I love you too. I just wish I, I dunno, didn't call her name right then, you know?"

She grins as you begin your cuddle. "No, no. That was fucking hot, actually."

"It was?"

"Yes!"

"No, really that wasn't right, I'm..."

Mashiro insists. You deny. It's a circuitous route that continues onward from outside of this bedroom—at dinner, walking down the street, at a sweet little shopping date where you and Mashiro were buying decorations for the home and she just had to get this puppy plushie for her best friend—really any time that Yeseo is mentioned, this conversation bubbles up from the depths.

It's one of those oddities, those quirks, the little humps in a relationship that eventually dies off and...

No, whiplash fucking snaps your neck in half.

So now you're here, in a room with your girlfriend and your truth-breaker. Mashiro sits on your lap, her breath so close to yours that you can smell the strawberry lip balm. Pliant, warm, she straddles your thigh while her hand travels down your chest, to your crotch. You groan into her mouth when she squeezes your hardening member through the fabric of your slacks. All the while, Yeseo watches, hands also down her pants. Too embarrassed despite the unspoken permission—goading, really—Yeseo keeps her fingers pressed against her clit, not quite daring to move.

It was supposed to be a normal day. Yeseo wasn't even supposed to be here. But Mashiro invited her, and she didn't kick Yeseo out, (which you would've done yourself, but it's hard doing anything when Mashiro has her nails on your skin like claws), and Yeseo didn't leave, and now you're stuck here, having your girlfriend dry-hump you and make out with you while another girl's watching.

It's like this for a while, a holding pattern, a cold war. Days. The first shot across the bow is when Yeseo leaves, flushed, and you rail your pretty girlfriend into the sheets so that the girl can't escape the sounds outside the room. If later, you somehow find out she was slouched against your bedroom, fingering herself to completion, then you wouldn't be surprised. Here comes the next battle in the next day, where Yeseo steels herself to watch Mashiro ride you, your back to the headboard. Then she sends the follow-up, bombarding you with her every fantasy while you know that acting upon it is this landmine, or now it's a minefield, or now the trenches are dug and all that's left is to wait.

Mashiro shoots the farmer's pig when she speaks up over dinner.

"It's just a handjob."

You choke on your half-swallowed piece of meat and end up coughing.

Yeseo looks up from her phone, then freezes. "W-what."

Mashiro gives Yeseo a wry smile as she gets up, massaging her shoulder. "You want to, right? So you should. It's okay, Yeseo." Mashiro's voice is gentle, and Yeseo nods slowly. Mashiro presses a kiss to Yeseo's cheek before walking over to you. She doesn't have to ask if this is what you want.

This is what you want.

Mashiro takes Yeseo to the bedroom, and you finish dinner before tidying up. You wash the dishes, wipe the table. Put away the leftovers. Count down from twenty until you tell yourself there are no logical reasons to delay the inevitable further, not with the way your pulse is racing, not with the way you've tasted anticipation in the air.

Once you open your door, you find your girlfriend holding the shirt collar of a willing Yeseo who has already crawled into your bed. The two are kissing—this isn't the first time you've seen, though it's the first time you've seen them hold it longer than a cute peck. First time you've seen tongue. First time you've seen hands under clothes and on bare skin. Never seen Mashiro grabby with her spit-covered lips.

You are quiet on your feet. Any sound you make, the creaking of the door, or the harshness of your breath, it drowns in Mashiro and Yeseo's obscene make-out. Delicious wet sounds burrow into your ears, the two girls slicking over and around and with each other, Mashiro in an exploratory mood while Yeseo lets herself get familiar. She looks flushed, content. Happy.

Mashiro acknowledges you by the doorway with a coo. "Just giving a little lesson." She pats the space on the bed next to her, where she strips off your shorts, your semi-erection right there for Yeseo to behold.

Yeseo wipes her lips with her shirt. You see her white bra. You think you can feel heat coming off the bridge of her nose. She stares like your dick's looking back, like this is the first time she's seen a penis that wasn't in a textbook diagram. Mashiro pulls Yeseo closer, bringing her between your legs; the furtive girl reaches for your member, then stops before touching, eyes back-and-forth between your dick and her arm. Even half-hard, you're about as thick as Yeseo's slender wrist, nearly the length of her forearm. She mouths "how" as her fingers hover a centimeter, this warmth a ghost over your cock.

"Here," Mashiro says, kneeling beside Yeseo. Holding her hand over Yeseo's, she guides the girl to wrap those fingers around your shaft and stroke it up and down. In your life, you've had lots of handjobs—mainly either self-administered or Mashiro-administered—but nothing quite matches Mashiro having her fingers tangled with Yeseo's, the touch soft with a little squeeze from one of them, not quite meeting any spots that'll make you squirm. You think Mashiro wants it this way, wants Yeseo to get a feel for it, find out the heft and warmth of a man's cock. It is, however, enough to get you stiff and plumb and twitch-happy, which is where Mashiro lets go.

When Mashiro gives Yeseo a quick kiss, you swear Yeseo tries to chase her when Mashiro pulls away. Then, you receive Shiro's next kiss. "I wanna see my boyfriend and best friend enjoy themselves," she whispers, before sitting aside.

You look back down at Yeseo, and you've never had such a carte-blanche view of the girl's face. Her eyes are big, round, chocolate-brown, the same as your girlfriend, but in them, Yeseo has this super-cute, really obvious, nervous lust that keeps sending a twitch in your hips. Her cheeks are soft and flushed red as you stroke them, squeeze them, press your fingertips in just to see how fluffy she is. She has a bunny's teeth when she gasps and her thin lips part.

"Hi. Hi… hi, hi." She's caught in the headlights.

You say "Stroke," and her pupils shift down to your crotch, the word a command that's clearly Yeseo's first. This exhalation out of her mouth would be fog in the winter. "Like this," you tell her, gentler, as you start to stroke yourself with one hand. Yeseo bites her lip and reaches toward you again. Your precum oiling the way, Yeseo's digits meet yours. At first, you only hold hands and smile at each other and feel out the moment before starting tender, guiding strokes. You have a way of measuring one's nervousness by cupping her hand in yours and feeling how she touches back: the sweat of your palms, her pulse through yours, this heat that seeps through the cracks in her fingers as she trembles.

When she becomes less tense, you let Yeseo try on her own. She looks down, head full of those breaths and some little noises she doesn't know she's making. Yeseo wraps her tiny hand around the base of your cock. She stares at it, at her fingers that don't cover your girth, and you wonder how long it will take for her to get used to it. When you think about Mashiro, you realize the awe never quite goes away.

With one hand in a jerking motion, the other palm wrapping around your base to act as an extension of the first, you like what she's trying—go wild, cute thing. A low growl in your throat lets her know that you find some enjoyment in the attempt. You lean back, spreading your legs apart to give her more room, and you close your eyes to savor the moment. With your eyes closed, you're certain you could tell the two girls apart, your girlfriend naturally more experienced, less afraid of your cock.

"Am I doing good? Yeseo mutters.

You nod, eyes still tight.

"You're so big, Oppa," she says, voice filled with wonder. "It's so warm. And the veins, and the way it pulses… is this really happening?"

"Yeah, it's real." Your breath catches when Yeseo runs a finger along the underside of your cockhead.

Her breath warms your cock, and you can't help but open your eyes. Yeseo is concentrating on your dick like the test's answers are on it, and the only way to get them is to wring them out. Sure, you've given yourself much better handjobs too, but there's something about her furrowed brows, her lip giving way to her teeth, that makes it all worth it.

"Yeseo-yah, try using your other hand to twist around the tip," Mashiro says, and you hear a slick noise coming from outside your vision.

There's an eep as Yeseo uses a second tiny fist around your tip to do just that.

You moan softly, weighing into the mattress; it's a good thing you're already lying down, because the newfound intensity makes your toes curl, and you find yourself thrusting up into her hips.

"Wow, it's so big," Yeseo says. "How do you fit it in Shiro-unnie?"

You draw in a hiss. "Hah, takes some work."

Yeseo giggles. "I can imagine."

You groan as Yeseo strokes and jerks and twists faster. Pressure builds up in your balls, and when you turn your head to the sight of your girlfriend dipping fingers between her thighs, you're certain you'll cum in time to Mashiro. Diligent, your girlfriend sidles on closer, adding some spit to Yeseo's hands, to which Yeseo responds by stroking you even faster. Mashiro pours more and more saliva onto your member, insistent on looking you in the eyes, while Yeseo's strokes get wetter, slipperier. Your grunts and the wet sounds of impromptu lubricant mix with and Yeseo's quickened breaths and Mashiro's self induced moans, a filthy choir of angels. Your balls tighten; the edge tempting to knock you off-balance.

But before you can finish, Yeseo abruptly stops. You clench and whip your head toward her, and you realize instantly by the look on her face that she does not know how to handle this climax part. Thankfully, just in time, your girlfriend has her mouth ready, lips around the head of your cock, and the vibrations of her moans tips forth the chain reaction of bliss. In awe, Yeseo stares as you and Mashiro unravel, your balls pumping semen into your girlfriend's mouth, your hips bucking upward as her pussy pulsates, a thin river of lust pouring out of her.

Even with every line in the sand kicked away, you haven't put much of an effort into convincing yourself of the reality of the situation. You've known Yeseo too long, too well to conceive of anything further happening. This was an aberration, puppy's love, a one-time folly, or you might excuse it as such if there weren't more mistakes—well, calling them mistakes implies a lack of agency.

"Just a handjob," you murmur to yourself, and if they're mere mistakes, then there would no point in time in which you could stop Yeseo from jumping on you and making out with you; and you're helpless when Mashiro brings your face between the young woman's ample thighs; and Yeseo kneels over you like a dutiful maid, mouth ready, hands working, and this is the result of a long-standing debt that your family's been paying—nothing, nothing to do with you being unable to say no anymore.

Looking up from the wet, messy patchwork of muted purple and blonde hair, of thighs squishing together as they kneel and lick in tandem underneath you, you realize that Yeseo has mastered her oral techniques in addition to the manual under Mashiro's tutelage, which has shattered your final understanding of Yeseo. This picture of innocence is much like the other picture of innocence in your life, and thus you should've expected as much. When you and Mashiro first started having sex, it truly was love-making, slow, sweet, vanilla, candle-lit, adoration-for-adoration's sake sex, something you started out of gratitude for each other, and continued because every time was an affirmation of the beautiful relationship you cultivated. Over time, you learned two key things: all her dirty secrets, and the fact that she only took your cock that slow because it was too big for her to be able to do otherwise.

("No, babe, I swear, I meant the love stuff too," she said.

You replied, "Okay, fine.")

The difference here is the speed with which Mashiro—and you, admit it; you are no fucking saint—have corrupted Yeseo. You estimate it'll be a matter of weeks before Yeseo's ready to match your girlfriend's skills.

Yeseo is trying to prove as much. While Mashiro licks your shaft, she leaves Yeseo your balls; while Mashiro is busy letting your dick knock against the back of her throat, Yeseo makes sure your sack receives enough tender sucking. When they swap places, you feel a pulse through your cock, Yeseo's mouth being impressively warm and wet. The only place this tongue of Yeseo's has been wetter than the inside of her mouth must have been the insides of Mashiro's pussy—and you've watched the damnable act, how your girlfriend arches back, eyes shut in pleasure, as the eager teen tongues her dripping slit.

That's the same tongue Yeseo uses now to stroke alongside the bottom of your shaft, your cock in her mouth, nose inches from your pubis. Yeseo isn't quite as capable of taking to the root as her unnie is, but you have no complaints about watching her struggle to swallow you, and you figure she'll catch up soon enough. She hums on your cock, swirling around the tip before bobbing back down again, happy to gag and make a mess.

And the slope is slippery down from her throat to her tongue, making saliva strands from the corner of her lip down the veins of your shaft, onto the floor where your filthy fucking girlfriend—lord, when did she get this nasty, this depraved—licks it up clean for Yeseo. You watch, mind blank, as Mashiro's tongue goes from the floor up to Yeseo's hard nipples. Then she continues along her breasts, till it's Mashiro's lips meeting Yeseo's again, and your shaft is jammed between their mouths for good measure. When Yeseo takes surprising control of your dick, your eyes focus on the sweet face that's learned to hollow her cheeks and flicker her tongue over the soft ridge beneath your shaft head, one hand working on the inch she can't reach. The only thing stopping Yeseo from gulping down your seed is the very girl who's kissing your shaft where it's free, taking your cock when Yeseo leaves for a quick breath. With the competitive swallow-duel going back and forth, it's inevitable that your girlfriend wins.

"Ah, thanks for the lunch," Mashiro says.

"One day I'll win." Yeseo huffs, but you can tell she is not mad. For as much as she pretends, her thighs are wiggling in Mashiro's face moments later, and she can't hide her smile so wide whenever your girlfriend's nose brushes against her swollen clit. She smiles even wider when you invite her onto your thigh, pressing that needy pussy down and leaving a trail for Mashiro to lick up.

But for all you've done in the past few weeks, one topic has never been brought up: Yeseo's virginity. Well, never explicitly—Mashiro has asked teasingly about it before, and all Yeseo says is "a guy in school" while her body language reveals that's the lie that it sounded like. Plus, whenever she watches the two of you bang, it's as though she's putting a puzzle together—how excited she gets during afterglows or those pillow talk sessions when you explain something or other.

As you gain a better understanding of Yeseo's every mechanism, you realize it's the framing of the situation. Act in the frivolities for the appetizers all you want, but don't underestimate what makes sex a nutritious meal.

"Seriously," Mashiro says, "if you've had sex before, you wouldn't be this much of a blushing mess. What are you getting embarrassed about?"

How cruel of your girlfriend to tease. Because as Yeseo says "sorry," Mashiro pushes her finger all the way into Yeseo's core, causing her to cry out. "Ahh! It, it's just that, I've had the plug, inside, since yesterday night! God, it's b-been, too, too much… mmnh."

"You're so cute," you say, spanking the girl on all fours. The plug is simple, black, silicone, and a hell of a lot bigger than her dainty fingers that you've seen toy with her anal ring before. You had taken care to see to it that Yeseo was neither in pain nor undue stress when it came to accommodating it, with plenty of lubricant, though you warned her that she couldn't remove the anal plug until Mashiro or you came to retrieve it.

Now that you've come to collect, you bend to kiss the cheeks of the girl's small, round butt, which jiggles as it twitches. Your tongue reaches, swirls around the ring of the plug, while your hand traces between her thighs to bring forth her slick. All this while, Mashiro's finger buries between Yeseo's folds, her cunt squeezes greedily against it, and her body pushes down on the object buried in her ass.

"D-don't stare. It's, um, dirty."

"Oh? Is it?" you ask while your thumb strokes Yeseo's anal ring around the plug. You pull on it, a hair's length, playing with her, and the wetter she gets, the more Yeseo trembles—the more she tries to hide her face and her screams into a pillow—the more she inadvertently thrusts her ass back into you. Inching further until the plug is out, you lean forward and bring your tongue closer to her tightest hole. "Then why does it look so tasty?"

"I dunno! God, this is so, so embarra—"

Yeseo collects the air in front of her in a single harsh breath, your lips sealing against her back passage, which tightens considerably from your tongue's foray. Then, when Mashiro supplies the same treatment to her friend's pink folds, you feel your tongue may be trapped in her hole. Fine by you. Your hands cover Yeseo's asscheeks as you slobber with licks and kisses, tasting her asshole like it's a last request, until her whines devolve into long, indecisive moans of wanting more and asking to slow down. Yet, her hips move as if to beg for more themselves, how greedy the woman. You laugh before you let up, squeezing cool lube onto the black buttplug.

"Ahh, ahh, ahh," Yeseo pants, "I need, I need more."

You are happy to provide. In another hand, you hold a small buzzing device. You trace it along Yeseo's pussy lips, weakening her elbows and knees—jolting when the vibe makes contact with her firm nub—damn near collapsing her as Mashiro seals her lips to the toy, ensuring none of its strength escapes. You know, from experience, a combination like that is bound to make a girl pass out, so once her hips slow down their staccato jerking, you steal your girlfriend's lips for a kiss.

Though every man who's made it this far in life knows well that every hole is good to eat, every hole's different flavors are treasures and miracles unto themselves. The flavor on your girlfriend's tongue is Yeseo at her very core, salty, musky, addicting to you; when you sample Yeseo's ass once again, popping the plug back out, you get a metallic tang mixed with the sweetness of the lube; lower you return, and Yeseo's cunt is spongey and soaked and hot, slick and oozing and a veritable delight to munch on, as the taste from the source is second to none.

It's an all-out sensory assault as you pull the plug some, enough so that its widest girth is right at the clinging ring, only for you to push back inside with a pop and a delightful mewl. Fingers and toys and tongues and lips alike massage Yeseo everywhere and overwhelm all her senses, her nerves tensing into spams and jerks of utter ecstasy. She doesn't even get the courtesy of oneness in her condition: each time you work her up to the peak, Mashiro is hungry for the next, pulling out all the stops to keep Yeseo climbing higher. Mashiro and you kiss, lick, push, pinch, fondle, stimulate, and the best Yeseo can do is squirm pathetically around the devices in her holes, her mind fucked straight out of her body.

Yeseo slumps down, shaking as if her bones were wrung out. After four or five or however many consecutive orgasms, and each attempt to catch her breath ending in her wailing, her crotch is so wet that you and Mashiro might as well be making out with a pond.

"Plth, pleath, please, mnh. Th-that was, was a little, little much."

Mashiro pulls her sticky face back to pepper Yeseo's lower half with little kisses, while you lick the remainder of Yeseo's juice from your lips. Cleanup takes a while, especially as Yeseo is too much a drooling, weak mess to help out—you don't mind, knowing this is all for her. Mashiro grabs a spare towel and wipes Yeseo down; once she's stable enough, you give her a gallon jug of water from the bedside stand and instruct her to drink up.

In the throes of this arousal, still breathing like air has never quite reached her lungs properly, Yeseo lays back and fights against the delirium. You and Mashiro cuddle her sides, squishing her between, and plant kisses all over her face and neck. Yeseo embarks on the road back to normalcy, thanks to the warmth of the two bodies, the careful embrace of loving hands, and your soothing words. When she's returned in totality, Yeseo locks eyes with you, her gaze serious like you've never seen on such a delicate, pretty face.

"So," Yeseo whispers, tensing up. "I know you've been waiting. You know. For me to bring it up."

"Hmm?" You grin. "What's that?"

Mashiro grumbles and reaches over to tap your shoulder. "Hey, this isn't the time to play coy."

"Alright." You face Yeseo. "Hey. It's okay." Sincerity in your voice, you bring yourself so close that Yeseo can't possibly miss your eyes and the warmth in them, you hope. "Whatever you're comfortable with, Yeseo. I mean it."

"Yeseo-yah," Mashiro says, her arms wrapping tighter. "You don't have to rush into anything. Whatever feels right to you, okay?" She glides forward until their kindred faces are so close they might as well be kissing.

A giggle permeates through the cracks in the wall of tension she's built. "I had no idea you two were such softies. Is this what happens when you date for so long?"

"Us? Softies?" You chuckle and cup her cheek, making the skin soft and pink. You brush her hair behind her ear. "Did cumming make you forget the past hour or—"

Mashiro throws a pillow at you. "Don't talk like that to our baby!"

That only makes you laugh even more, and as Yeseo joins in the laughter, so too does Mashiro. It's a while before Yeseo sits up, takes a deep breath, slaps her thighs. "I'm fine. Seriously, I'm ready now." She looks at you, dead in the eyes. "Oppa. I… I have wanted to fuck you ever since… since…" Her voice gets lower. "A couple months ago."

You try not to choke on your own spit. "Yeseo, you just turned eighteen then."

"So?"

"Yeseo." Your voice is calm yet stern.

"Besides, lots of other girls in school already lost their virginity!"

"And so you haven't, I knew it!" Mashiro laughs from the sideline.

Yeseo sticks out her tongue, and then her face turns serious again. She holds her hands on top of yours, as though drawing the answers from her fingertips as she thumbs them. After a slight pause, you give her an encouraging rub on her shoulder. "I just don't, didn't want to disappoint you guys. And I know we've done so much together, but sex… it's different. Means more. Like, look at you two. You're such a sweet couple, and I feel like I'm just budging between—"

"Absolutely not!" Mashiro exclaims as she joins in massaging the flesh of Yeseo's shoulders.

"I swear to god," you say, "you're all that matters in the world to us, right, Shiro?"

She nods forcefully.

"If we didn't care about you, we would have never taken you here, would have never let you in on our lives and intimacy. You could never budge between me and Shiro. In fact, I think you've made us better as a couple in ways you couldn't imagine, like how much happier Shiro and I are now."

Mashiro turns to kiss your cheek before addressing Yeseo herself. "We love you so much. And the most important thing to us, the thing that makes me the happiest, is when you feel good. So please, whatever you're worried about, we can work it out, baby."

It's all the truth, new axioms being built from a foundation of old, with your affection for the other girl unquestionable—enough for a lifetime, you think, that every day the three of you spend time cuddling or watching a movie is a day in paradise. Yet when you ask about the color of your world with this new addition, it becomes obvious how incomplete that thought is, to what degree you were underestimating the effect of the past few weeks. Here was this naive girl, this sweet doll, to whom the world was a painting of only shades of soft vanilla white. Now, it is pink, candy sweet. Now, it is red, a fiery thing. Now it is the burning color of sunrise, on her cheeks, from her ears, in between her thighs, and shall the colors subside, you gladly will rise up tomorrow to bring more.

Here comes the clouds, their tears on Yeseo's face, but they're joy-filled, like rain while the sun shines hot on a summer day. As Yeseo rests on her knees, back against your chest, Mashiro draws upon Yeseo's face with a kiss.

"How about this," Mashiro says. She steals the girl from your lap, pulling her into her own lap and embracing her from behind. "You should go on a date with him. Remember where we went the first time?"

With Shiro gazing expectantly at you, you reply, "Yeah, the aquarium? I even got you a stuffed shark there, right? Then we ate crab and—"

"Yeah! Take Yeseo there, go on a cute date and make her melt. You two can make it official. And while you're out, I can work myself into a mess and we can have the best possible first time. How does that sound, Yeseo?"

The toothy smile says it all.

The night falls, then another, as time slows. Gravity has changed. The anticipation for that Friday drags on, and the days are slow, sweet, long, tortuous. The three of you aren't even fooling around anymore; hell, you and Mashiro haven't... well, you still fucked three times last week, and nothing rough, but that's easily half of the usual, if not less.

But this new dynamic is not unwelcome. It's reminiscent of when you first started dating, before things became intense and adventurous. You cuddle in your bed under blankets and the moonlight and start to touch, caress, and feel each other's warmth. Mashiro whispers sweet things to you like "I love you, you're the best boyfriend in the world, you're so good to me." You run your fingers through her hair and over her neck.

Naked bodies pressed together, skin-to-skin, you can feel the warmth emanating from each other. She grinds against your leg, her wetness leaving a slick trail on your skin, and you grip her ass as she thrusts against you. Your shaft is hard and heavy on her stomach as you roll over her, Mashiro on her back and you on top of her. With the blanket covering you two, it's like the space is a tent and you're intrepid explorers discovering new continents, remapping unknown boddies. Your gazes become those of lovers finding hidden moons and suns in each other's eyes.

Mashiro grabs your face and kisses you, hard, and you return the gesture with passion. She lets out a small squeak, and it's a tiny noise in the still room under the cramped covers. You suck her bottom lip, nipping on it, before your tongues intertwine, causing her to moan softly into your mouth.

You break the kiss, and Mashiro whimpers, "Don't stop, don't stop kissing me."

You lean back and say, "Shh, baby, I got you." Your finger goes to her mouth and you pull on her bottom lip, drawing it down. Then you take that finger and run it down her body, from her mouth to her neck, then down to her breasts. Mashiro has a beautiful set of tits, and you love to see them bounce, jiggle, and move, and you circle her breasts with your finger, drawing lazy circles around them, but the way you love and touch her now is more than arousing; it's intimate as you treat her body like an adoration to praise, worship, and cherish her.

She deserves you telling her as much, in as many words: "You are the most perfect, beautiful girl in the world. Your body, your love, you, your everything."

Mashiro blushes at your words and closes her eyes, arching into you as your lips trail down to her chest. Soft, wet kisses leave trails along her skin, causing her to whimper and writhe beneath your touch. As your lips continue their journey downward, so too does your hand. Her legs spread willingly for you as your fingers hover over her folds, teasing and tracing circles around her dripping pink pussy. Your thumb rubs against the thin skin of her inner thigh before playfully dipping towards her entrance.

She's soaking already, the sweet smell of her arousal filling your senses, and your pecks if like a map of the world plot a course down her body, her ribs and her hip bones like signposts. When your girlfriend squeals and tries to push your face away as you lower your head to its final destination, you grin—it's like old times when she used to get shy and flustered in your presence. Using one hand to keep her pink labia spread and the other to hold her thighs in place, you finally lower your head to its final destination. Your tongue darts in her, kissing, lapping, probing, and, most of all, worshipping the insides of the cunt.

And the noises she makes are the sweetest little things in the world, little breaths and hums and keens and croaks that are only audible under the soft cocoon of blankets surrounding the two of you. Even though you're alone in the room, she's hesitant to be too loud; it doesn't stop her from expressing her satisfaction. With one hand on her clit and the other gently caressing her backside, you delve deeper between her folds with your tongue, eliciting coos and sighs from Mashiro. You want every moment to be this moment—your woman lost in the isolated woods of her pleasure, no one else to hear the tree fall but you.

You yearn to look up at your lovely Shiro, to watch her unravel in bliss, but the blanket obstructs your view. Thankfully, she notices and removes it herself, possibly feeling overheated from being enclosed in such a small space. You're grateful, because now the view of your beloved girlfriend is even better: her hair tousled from squirming around in bed and covering herself with the blanket, her face flushed, mouth open in a small "o." Her hands roam over her breasts, alternating between gentle cupping them and rough pinching of her nipples. Your gaze settles on the aspect of the scene you most enjoy: the small bead of saliva escaping from the corner of her mouth, the shimmering trail it leaves as it rolls down her cheek.

Her eyes, how they sparkle in ecstasy from the love and affection you give her, filling your heart with a warmth that borders on painful. As much as you could stay here all night, then all day, until the moon rose again, Mashiro's eyes connect with yours, quietly and meekly pleading, and you know it is your duty to proceed, before she crumbles on her own.

Your tongue retracts and you leave a soft kiss on her mound. You scoop her body into your strong arms, positioning yourself above her with your cock pressing against her stomach. Her face is so close to yours that you can feel every breath she takes. She wraps an arm around your back and draws you closer with a tug, hooking a leg around your torso.

This is the closest two people can get without actually being inside each other, yet your lips remain just out of reach. Mashiro's gaze captures you, as it has since you first fell in love with her in college. There's a brief moment where something unspoken passes between you both, and then her eyes close and your noses brush against each other. In the darkness of the night, with only the light of the stars shining through the window, the crescent moon appears in her smile.

"Hello there, dear," Mashiro whispers.

Your heart is caught in your throat.

"I love you," she says.

"I love you too, babe."For a few moments, your noses are the only points of contact, stretching into what feels like eternity. Then you realize she's waiting for you.

"Kiss me," she whispers, repeating the words over and over again, and you give in. Then you two kiss—it's with an odd, powerful feeling, like you're trying to stuff the world into each other's mouths, breathing each other's air, and the timing is right and perfect and good for the next stuffing of your length into her welcoming heat. Her lips and her legs tighten around you as you ease yourself in inch-by-inch.

Doesn't take you long before you bottom out, her grippy thing sealed around the base. You wait a while before you begin moving, your hands beneath her head, on the nape of her neck. Watch how her face twists from pleasure, to frustration, to a longing. As though you're both star-crossed lovers meeting at night and on the fly, she mounts you in a rush of anticipation and love and heat and she clings onto your shoulders like a lifeline. Your girlfriend's more excited than she ever was, and her breath runs ragged, as though the weight of the world is upon her—or you upon her, pressing her into the bed.

You drink in her every little moan and squeal while she clenches your bicep in a firm grip and you're on top of her and her legs split open to frame your hips. Thrusts into her like pistons in a steam engine, driving with force and energy, and so much power that the entire bed shakes around you two. All the while, you're kissing everywhere your face can reach: neck, breasts, nipples, all over her flushed skin, all over her skin getting redder still—and Mashiro loves it all, from the deep passionate kisses to the gentle tickles that make her giggle uncontrollably.

It's all so clumsy, like you don't have the years between you to know how to work together; maybe it's the nerves—like you're teenagers in the back of your first car, almost getting caught; like you're in your dirty college dorm, finding where the screw in your frame breaks and the mattress falls and you're so horny you can't find enough grip on the uneven sheets to get a proper grip. Or maybe it's because it really is just like your first time: not the location, or the rhythm, or the surroundings, or even the way her breasts jiggle when you thrust with abandon, but the all-in desperation, of thanking the past for catching up, or thanking the future for promising to get even better.

Back then, the first time you slept with her, it was like learning an entirely new language—like you had to keep looking around as she pulled you in deeper, the walls of her snatch tugging on your cock, an alien sensation like a vacuum, her sex threatening to suck out your very soul despite the awkward inexperience.

Now, despite the awkward rhythm and the need to touch and kiss every which where, the way your bodies connect is smoother. More meaningful. Hotter.

She kisses your face and cups your cheeks and makes quiet promises under her breath, "I'm yours, I'm yours, oh, god, you're fucking me, you're—ahh—so good, so big," over and over. You love it, how much she tells you, her voice strained and high and keening and on the verge of tears. Your nails drag up the sides of her thighs and bring her into another embrace, arms around each other, tongues weaving. The more it goes, the less graceful you become, and the less coordinated you are, and the more you forget the sensations and rhythms, and your animal instincts go back to clawing and prodding and exploring and mating.

How many times have you done this? You've counted them at least, the things they do to your mind, the way your girlfriend looks at you in bed. Hundreds? Perhaps a little under a thousand, almost halfway through the past three years, each time more intimate and delicious than the last. You look into her dark- yes and become stunned in love, overcome with adoration, unable to bear it as her sweet pussy contracts on your throbbing length and you push her into the bed as you both slip over the edge of sweet release—you cum together, spurting into her wet embrace, gripping her closer than ever before, and still you hold her and hug her. She's yours, and she will forever be yours, and that is why you and she still make love three times a week like newlyweds, content with the lazy nature of time.

And just like that, maybe, you can pretend like what's coming up with Yeseo is a first encounter, an exploration in the same manner that sex with her unnie was, from some corner of her heart calling out desperately to be loved the same way as Mashiro had, to that young heart you both did your best to nurture and coax into blooming.

You're standing in front of fish, alive and vibrant. Yeseo's standing next to you, not even up to your shoulders, beaming up at you in a hoodie a bit too baggy for her small frame—it's yours—actually, it's Mashiro's now that you think of it, so long ago when your girlfriend pulled it from your closet and decided she was keeping it. It used to make her small figure positively miniscule, same way Yeseo makes it swim on her. Her short shorts, however, are all hers, all that asscheek squishing out from under it, and you want to make it the floor's instead.

Cute date. Cute date. You turn your attention back to fish, all these shimmering sea creatures swimming around in their tanks, the smell of saltwater pervasive. Lots and lots of little rainbow-colored fish behind big panes of glass and the vivid blue. You watch, and they don't glance in your direction, which is probably a good thing because they'd see how embarrassingly nervous you are for a date; you're certain you can't handle this mix of sexual anticipation and cuteness overload for another minute. The air is dense, so sticky that you're practically underwater yourself. You can tell Yeseo is thirsty, a touch uncomfortable, and so are you. Despite the wet air, your throat's dry, all your senses tingling, every nerve electrified like sharp edges of lightning arcing through the thick atmosphere.

After buying her a bottle of soda (as she says thank you in the smallest voice), you take a sip, and it's funny thinking that this is the closest you've been to kissing in a while. You sip, she sips, and this repeats back and forth until the bottle's spent. It's like you're making out, in public, no less. You want to take your hand but she's off to look at jellyfish.

This little nerd goes around oohing and ahhing at at every new species while you wonder when did she get this geeky, overtaking Mashiro of all people. You go into the penguin exhibit, and watching her shiver, you grab her slender hand and intertwine your fingers with hers before placing your two hands in your pocket for safe keeping. Yeseo tiptoes and presses her nose into your shoulder, sniffling.

"Are you cold?" you ask.

"No. Smells bad."

"Oh." You ruffle her hair with your free hand. The dye's losing its saturation, though her still a brilliant tinted gray. "Good point. Say, aren't you feeling hungry?"

Here's the answer.

You're sitting in front of fish. These ones are dead, and delicious. Yeseo's sitting in front of you, eating guilt-free, committing grand larceny from your hand, all with a big smile. Unable to prosecute and in fact a perpetrator yourself (one count of corruption), you feed her, leave fingerprints of some red sauce on the corner of her mouth, and you wouldn't mind licking her clean if there weren't so many people around. She tongues at it herself, and visions of her licking other things pop into your head.

The visions disappear when she grins once again, wide, flashing her teeth. This isn't the Yeseo you've built up to break down; this is the Yeseo you started with, a postulate, the unbendably true and innocent one, a girl who likes hugging you and her best friend, and nothing more, least of all getting involved with the filthy sex you two have.

The pendulum swings.

"You know you don't have to use condoms, by the way. I know you bought a whole bunch, but… I wouldn't mind raw… you know, I trust you." All that is said without missing a beat, and you miss a few: blinks, breaths, words, choking on some oyster, and as she kindly hands you a napkin, she turns her head bashfully like nothing happened. "Tonight's gonna be so special, I know it. I'm so glad we did this, Oppa, thank you."

You smile, as warm as you can while your lungs are recovering.

In a park nearby, she's the one who takes your hand, swinging it back and forth as the day's bleeding amber into her skin, as her sweater becomes a blanket for her and her happiness. The dark thoughts push against the bright light of the girl, still fighting as you carry your Yeseo up a hill to catch the day fading away. On top of that hill, you kiss Yeseo like it's the first time and tell her you love her, and you hope that's enough because she deserves every part of the world below this hill, and so above.

As above, so below. The night falls. If the nights then slowed, this one has halted completely. The stopped night falls and the curse of darkness is a biblical thing because it will return you to dust from which you were made, back to where you started. These are the end times.

You're making out with Mashiro in your lap, and she has indeed worked herself into an apocalyptic mess for you. Her legs are wrapped around you, between her thighs as a wet spot like the flood, her hands squeeze your nape where your hairs raise, and god, you missed her kissing like her next breath must be in your lungs.

Yeseo, judge of the soul, eyes you down in the periphery of your vision—back to where you started.

The night falls, and it's a biblical curse of darkness upon the land because no good can come of it. There is an unshakable heaviness in the bedroom, like gravity has suddenly intensified. You're sitting on the bed with Mashiro in your lap and Yeseo nearby, her posture a mix of alertness and contemplation. You kiss Mashiro passionately, caress her body, run your fingers through her hair, and grasp her hips tightly to make her feel desired and needed.

Then Yeseo slinks over and wraps her arms around you from behind, pressing her cheek against yours and biting her lip while emitting a small moan. It's clear that she's uncertain about how to act in this situation. She hesitates before leaning forward and gently kissing your neck, causing your whole body to shiver.

What a stark contrast—the intentions and their effects. Your body acts on its own accord while your mind struggles to make sense of the conflicting emotions. But your arm instinctively wraps around Yeseo, as if it knows what to do.

Mashiro finally pulls away, understanding the situation, and there's a diamond in her eyes. "Go for it," she whispers.

Yeseo and you are two parts of an incomplete whole, and you sum with your lips, and multiply in moans. The bed squeaks, the sheets shift, and that which does not move becomes stiller than ever. Yeseo starts to grind against you, matching your movements. From the corner of your eye, you see her squeezing her eyes shut, drooling slightly onto your shoulder. When she opens them, they flash between desire, fear, longing, and confusion as she looks to Mashiro for guidance.

Your hand gently strokes her hair to soothe her, while Mashiro leans closer and tenderly kisses Yeseo's forehead. "What do you want to do next, Yeseo-yah?" Mashiro asks.

"I... I don't know what I want. I just want him inside me."

You smile adoringly at Yeseo and brush her hair away from her face. "I can make that happen for you."

"R-really? Aren't we supposed to do more...things first? Like...you know..." Yeseo stammers. "I can suck you clean again, or we can…"

"I think you've waited long enough, princess," you say.

Yeseo shudders. "Oh. God... just fuck me."

Mashiro's lips brush against Yeseo's forehead with tender affection, the warmth of their embrace palpable. As she moves down to her lips, their kiss deepens and they both lose themselves in the moment. You move behind the pair, pulling Yeseo's jeans down; she squirms in your forceful grasp. Mashiro moves to the side of the bed as you lay Yeseo on her back. As you throw her pants to the corner of the room, you spread kisses where they must go—along the inside of her thigh to her knee, back to the joint of her torso and her hip, your tongue grazing the skin above her panties. She does nothing to hide her arousal, vocal, flushed, all-in-all unrefined perfection.

Your teeth clasp on the fabric of her soaked panties, and you pull the clothes down, her hips bucking in hurry. Without breaking eye contact, you discard her last items of clothing, and rest your face atop her dripping pussy. Yeseo cries out, arching up in the instant your mouth meets her pussy, bucking against you to bring you closer.

At first, you take it slow and gentle, savoring every delicate motion that sets Yeseo off into a frenzy. But as her begging becomes more urgent, you give into her desires and increase the intensity of your ministrations. Kang Yeseo is like a leaking faucet, spilling out her lust onto your tongue and down her thighs until even the sheets beneath them are moist.

With practiced ease, you add a few fingers into the mix, skillfully bringing Yeseo closer and closer to climax with each thrust. And when she finally reaches the peak of pleasure—marked by a simple count to ten and a swipe of the letter Y—she lets out a primal scream of pure bliss. Her body writhes against yours, her fingers clutching the pillow beneath her head as she surrenders fully to the overwhelming pleasure.

"O-oh, oh god... yes," she chokes out. "Oh god. Fuck, fuck."

Mashiro has gotten naked during this, has started fondling herself, excited at her friend's exhibition. Yeseo only has eyes for you, though, and takes your head between her hands to bring you over and mash your faces together again. She tastes her own lust on your lips, her own pussy juices evidence of your hard work, kissing you and begging you to make love to her.

Mashiro approaches, drawn to the scene before her. Is she motivated by genuine concern for Yeseo's well-being or is it a voyeuristic desire to witness your lovemaking? As she presses up against you, her delicate hands reaching for your throbbing shaft, it becomes evident that it is the latter.

With a flick of a switch in her mind, Mashiro sheds all inhibitions and eagerly guides your member inside Yeseo's waiting heat. Slip into Yeseo's tightness, every centimeter a kilometer. Her small but eager pussy lips tightly compress around your tip, sending shivers down your spine. You close your eyes and can almost feel Yeseo's own eyes shut in bliss, while you can only imagine the hungry gaze of Mashiro fixed upon you both.

Her weight barely registering on your body, Yeseo digs her fingertips into your shoulders as she pleads, "Please… be gentle." It takes you back to when you first started dating Mashiro, and you reward Yeseo's trust with long, slow strokes that gradually stretch her open. She lets out encouraging mewls mixed with a single tear rolling down her flushed cheek. With each thrust, her pain gives way to gratitude and pleasure. From behind you, Mashiro's eyes lock onto yours with a mischievous glint.

As expected, she revels in Yeseo's discomfort—perhaps with a touch of wicked empathy or even a hint of jealousy at not being able to experience this first time herself. It's clear that with Mashiro's provocations, this will be anything but romantic and sweet. Your lips meet hers in a heated kiss as you pull back slightly before thrusting into Yeseo again. "You're doing so good, Daddy," Mashiro whispers breathlessly. It's not often she calls you that, but right now it feels fitting. "How does she feel?"

You respond with another searing kiss before murmuring, "Just like you did. Maybe even wetter."

"Oh yeah? You should fuck her harder to prove it then." Mashiro's full lips curve upwards into a satisfied smile as she watches you, her focus shifting to the girl writhing beneath you. You can feel the change in Yeseo, her body language shifting and telling you that she is reaching her threshold for pain. But her desire for that elusive orgasm is still strong.

As your hips continue to thrust into her, filling her holes with your thick cock, you sense the pain radiating from her body. But Yeseo is too caught up in the pleasure to call it off or complain. Each time your hips collide against hers, she breathes out "oh fuck" in ragged gasps.

The pace quickens, the intensity of your movements increasing with each passing second. The bed creaks and groans under the weight of your bodies as you both crave more and more. Your grip tightens on Yeseo's hips as you lift her ass into the air, pushing her body to its limits.

In an instant, everything changes. Yeseo's screams now come not from pain, but from overwhelming pleasure as you reach deeper inside her. Tears cloud her eyes and she cries out for "Daddy," shocking even herself with the pet name that escapes her lips. But hearing her say it only adds to your arousal.

You feel Mashiro's hand move down to Yeseo's clit, aggressively rubbing and stimulating her even further. Her words only add fuel to the fire, driving you both towards pure ecstasy. "You like that," Mashiro taunts, "You like Daddy's cock? Like how his giant fucking cock feels buried so deep in your virgin pussy?"

Yeseo grits her teeth and nods, barely able to form words through her pleasure-filled haze. "I do… please."

"You're a slut for my man's cock," Mashiro continues, causing a primal growl to escape your own throat in response. Your body moves on instinct, driven by a primal desire for pleasure and dominance."Such a slut for Daddy's cock, aren't you?"

"Yeeees..."

"You're gonna get addicted to this, hooked on cock, fucking you, and you're going to wanna cum all the time, Daddy's naughty princess, aren't you?"

"Aaah, ahh... fuck, yes, I love your cock, love Daddy's fat cock, aahn, aaah, don't stop, fuck me, fucking fuck me, fuck me like you fuck Unnie."

You love watching Yeseo's face as she gets pounded. The way her mouth hangs open, tongue hanging out, panting like a dog, eyes rolling back, lids fluttering, all in such a adorable package. However, you've been craving something else: that pert ass of hers. You unsheathe Yeseo's pussy to a line of girl cum, then flip her and scoot her towards you until her round rear is against your pelvis, and resume fucking her pronebone.

Yeseo screams into the sheets, Mashiro's fingers buried in her mouth to show her the taste of her lust.

"You gonna be a good girl, aren't you?" Mashiro asks, earning Yeseo's moan in approval on her digits. "Good. That's my cock, mine, and the only way you're getting to feel it is by being a good girl and letting him cum inside you, let him coat your pussy with Daddy's cum. Make Daddy proud, you hear me?"

When Mashiro pulls back, Yeseo speaks: "Yes, yes, breed me, cum in my pussy, make me a woman, I wanna be a woman, a woman who cums on Daddy's cock, a woman who cums from getting fucked."

Her ass jiggles in the prettiest way. Whether through the excitement or fear of having a pregnant belly at only eighteen, her thighs are shaking. Her entrance clenches tightly around your girth and milks your orgasm from you, and it's like you've become her baby maker and nothing more.

You wrap your arms around her. "You sure you wanna get bred, princess? You want my seed, every drop, to make you mine? You want to be an adult, that what you want?"

She struggles under you, her wet pussy giving way to your penis. "Yes. Yes! Fuck me, please, Daddy. Please."

Those are your last words for a while, that plea. Her asscheeks give way to your  fingers, slipping to the puckered hole of her anus. You know she's been practicing with that hole, plunging dildos up her butt, training for Daddy's cock. Mashiro takes your hand, offering to lubricate, and before you know it her saliva seeps through your digits. With that, a pointer finger hooks inside Yeseo easily, earning a happy squeak, a bit of cock-drunk laughter at being doubly penetrated.

Anal wasn't something you and Mashiro tried during your first encounter, but you very well are familiar with the act, an intrinsic fact about Mashiro that few others know. Her ass has come to be both of your preferred mode of orgasmic expression, your cum leaving a filthy pool in her asshole. Now Yeseo's about to find out why. Her anus offers the final tightest barrier for your probing finger, slipping inside the dirty hole. In and out a half dozen times, Yeseo soon adapts, and Mashiro—being on the other side of Yeseo and facing you—makes a show of kissing her neck and palming her small breasts. Yeseo bucks back on your digit and cock, the clench of her two insides holding you tight and in love.

You're so lucky that your girlfriend holds no jealousy to speak of—at least not in her sex life—as Yeseo cums hard around your invading cock. Her body clenches at the multiple parts of her that you've stuffed, keeping you held firmly inside. Like a chain reaction, your orgasm is triggered, pulled in forcefully. One two pumps is all it takes, her virgin pussy a divine void, and after that first one you lose count of your inseminating shots. Her womb is full of you, thickened, and your finger pumps with equal force in her ass. Yeseo is mumbling into the mattress, a long nonsensical string of begging and pleading that only end once you're out of her, she can feel your seed inside of her, once the bliss of the last few minutes leave.

Yeseo is your fucking whore.

After cumming her brains out, the tired slut in her sleepily tumbles off. You're not done. Seeing that creampie leak out of her well-fucked cunt, nope, you're not nearly finished. Right now there's a much sluttier hole available to you.

Yeseo rests her head against Mashiro's soft chest, passing out as her friend embraces her.

"Shiro. Marshmellow. I'm really going to ask this with all my self-control, but is it okay if I fuck her ass. She's very tempting."

Your precious petal gives the brightest smile, you know, when she's so uninhibited like this, free to her own wicked whims. Mashiro kisses Yeseo's sleeping forehead, before looking back to you. "Aww, baby, but she looks so adorable sleeping yeah fucking do it. Fuck the shit out of her."

With a peck, you accept her permission. You spread the winking hole open with two fingers, then collect some of the leaking seed from Yeseo's pussy and wipe it on the entrance. Then, the lube: Mashiro with a diligent mouth, and soon a dew of her spit onto your cock for Yeseo's ass.

As you rest your wettened cockhead against Yeseo's anus, it spasms slightly, involuntarily, puckering further against your assault. Suddenly her eyes shoot open, her back arching.

"Good dream," she moans, and as you've learned, it is possible to fuck cutely. Because that's the Yeseo on Mashiro's chest now: cute. "I was... a bad girl, I let Daddy use all my holes, aahn."

"He's ready for more of you, Yeseo-yah." Mashiro whispers.

"Wha..." Yeseo is still in a stupor from her slumber, and so the shock is clearly visceral and uncomfortable as you enter her ass. Even lubed up it takes more effort to break her innermost seal as it stretches around your tip and clings to the millimeter she lets you go in. As she gets filled with your cock again, it doesn't matter how she had previously reacted to the rough pounding you gave her pussy. Your hand grabs her arm and keeps it in place as the half inch meets an end in the resistance of her anus' unwilling submission to your fucking. But she begins to thrust herself back on you slightly, and that helps, relaxing the walls that inveighed against your penetration. Soon you make another centimeter of progress, a centimeter closer to fully lodging your cock inside her.

The penetration is slow as time itself, but for a curious reason: in this single instance, both you and Yeseo want the process to take as long as possible, for this moment to stretch even beyond how fucking long you're taking to actually penetrating her. The lewdness is so beyond what the both of you are familiar with, your plunging cock filling her most intimate spot is perhaps the dirtiest deed imaginable, filthy and nasty and deliciously so.

Yet, she's still fucking cute—cutely fucking, when she looks back to you, meets your loving gaze, a pout on her lips, and a fluttering opening of her mouth. She eyes you with an innocence that has long since left her presence here and now. Of all the girls you've fucked before and this night, none have the spark of natural sexual goodness that Yeseo possesses. Before it was pretty fucking adorable, the eager virgin desperate for attention, desperate for an anal orgasm. Now it's not just arousing, it's something deeper: beautiful. And she wants you to share in her beauty.

"M-more." It's a scant whisper, her throat dry with anticipation. More than enough. You pull on Yeseo's hair and throw her head back, exposing more of her slim neck, to drive your cock with more force into her unbroken depths. Harder now, in: two more inches penetrate her, yet no outward journey is permitted, something else which you've prevented as you continue your rhythm. Your other hand trails down from her back to her ass, where your fingers lay, kneading the cheeks apart to admire your conquest. Yeseo is being taken, wholly owned. She's yours, belonging only to your pleasure and only to your pleasure alone, to feel the pleasure of this moment together.

You pull a fistful of her hair now, drawing her ear close enough to your mouth to bite gently on the lobe, to send a shock of exhilaration through her skinny frame. "You're a filthy fucking anal whore, Yeseo. I'm going to fuck the creampie out of this asshole. Just know I own you, and you need a real man inside of you. Say it."

Yeseo purrs. "Nnn, nngh. Nn, yesss, Daddy, you own my hole, you own all my holes, your slut, just want your cock always in me, fuck my fuck, oh, ohyes, godd, do it, please!"

Again you claim this sweet sin, and push on through to the end of her depths, till you're bottomed out in her ass. Yeseo wiggles ineffectively, fruitlessly, letting you work her anus on your girth.

"How does it feel, baby girl?" Mashiro asks, and you begin to draw your cock slowly. Yeseo howls and squeezes your member, her anus unable to take the stretch any more, yet unwilling to let it go. It takes the weight of a greater instinct for her to move her hips away from you. You help pull back, but it's equally mind-agonizing, mind-numbing, but eventually you come out cleanly.

Through gasping breaths, Yeseo says, "C-can I ride it instead? That, that was too much."

Mashiro giggles, nods. "Daddy can lie down for you, sweetie. Lay him out and sit your pretty little butt on him."

You lean against the headrest and spread out your legs, giving Yeseo free range to work your cock. Much quicker now she takes your cock inside, sinking down on the cock to an easy half. Then, Yeseo relaxes and soon her ass claps against your pelvis, earning a moan from you both.

"Wow, you're a natural." Mashiro says.

"Yeah, oh, fuck, I practiced, this position, oh, mmhm. On, haaa, on a toy. Wow."

"But, the real thing's better." When Mashiro starts touching Yeseo's clit, even more globs of semen leave her cunt.

Yeseo just nods to that, her eyes meeting the lord in her head, her mouth dangling open. "Mhmm, so big, s-so hard, and, umph, and, haahh."

You quickly ascertain that while Yeseo is certainly practiced in her riding, she is no match for Mashiro's experience. Here, you don't mind—the grip of her warm and willing walls wrapping around your cock, her pussy clamping at air in response. Your mouth, open and hungry, is captured by Mashiro, french-kissing you. She's a warm, comfortable presence beside you, watching you watch the pornographic scene of the inexperienced girl fucking herself like a needy anal whore. Yeseo, from her expression, is obviously getting the hang of it: her fucking is getting faster, the cock that enters her quickly leaving in rapid pace, her pleasure quickening in its growth. Yeseo bucks up, slips down, trying to give you as much pleasure as possible

Insofar as Yeseo can find purchase in her brain-melting daze, she's cumming so very quickly and so damn hard. Yeseo is so tightly gripped at your cock you can only imagine the spasms she must be going through. For your troubles, she sprays juice all over your abdomen. As if from the deepest part of her orgasm, her last shreds of coherence, an almost non-fathomable concept, give way to a smile, to a laugh. She collapses on top of you, her cheek against your chest.

"I'm... Daddy's..."

"Cum dump." You sit up, wrapping your arm around her back. "I'm not done with you, not until I've left my cum in your asshole."

She nods. "I'm your slut, Daddy."

You take Yeseo from the bed, and carry her over to the side, bending her over the nightstand, holding her neck and keeping her pressed against the wood. Her small hands reach behind her, taking hold of your shaft and guiding you into her anus. A single thrust is enough to seat her all the way to the hilt, and it doesn't take long before you're pistoning into her, her ass jiggling.

Mashiro's got her hand buried in Yeseo's hair, pushing her down harder against the wooden surface. She's a beautiful girl, your girlfriend, her pussy soaked from watching you use this other girl. "Make a mess for Daddy," she says. "Cum around his cock, milk that cum out like you deserve."

With Yeseo bent over like this, it's a tight fit for the both of you. But you rail the woman. No mercy. All the restraint you had when taking the virginity of either hole is gone now, nothing but raw need and animal instinct driving the motion. The wet smack of your balls against her pussy, the squeaks of her own need, the sounds of the room fill you, fill her, fill Mashiro, and there's no stopping you from taking Yeseo's ass like you mean it.

It's all Yeseo can do to hold onto the edge of the nightstand for dear life. For good measure, Mashiro spanks the slut. The slut loves it. She's basically humping the furniture now, trying to get any kind of friction on her clit, any kind of sensation to heighten her pleasure.

In this moment, the world could be falling apart around you, but you wouldn't care. You just want to keep pounding away at this beautiful woman's ass. Your hands grip her hips, and you thrust inside as far as you can.

Yeseo's breath catches as she feels her ass clench around the base of your cock. Her face is one of pure ecstasy, her mouth forming a perfect O shape.

"Oh fuck, oh god, aaaah," Yeseo cries out. "I'm gonna cum, fuck, Daddy, I'm cumming!"

You don't announce it as loudly, just a sharp groan, solid grip of her hips, pulling her down onto your cock where balls-deep you unload into her. Your second climax is no less powerful than the first, shooting rope after thick rope of hot cum into Yeseo's asshole. You can feel it twitching around you, like Yeseo's trying to milk every last drop out of your cock. She's gasping for air, her body shaking. Mashiro kisses her neck and shoulder to soothe her.

You pull out slowly, letting her feel the loss of your cock. A glob of semen slips out of her gaping asshole, a strand of cream down her lithe legs.

Finally, you're spent, the well of your lust and energy dry, the strength of your legs gone, the strength of your arms gone, the strength of your mind gone. The energy to do anything more than lay in bed is beyond you now.

Yeseo can't even do much of that, and you have to help carry her to the bed, where the three of you lie.

"Fuck. Is it... usually that much?" Yeseo asks, her fingers sliding between her thighs, feeling her sticky hole and slit.

Mashiro giggles. "No. Not by a long shot."

"You're so fucking tight Yeseo-yah, of course you'd get filled up so much."

"But, is this, like, how it is? Like, I'm gonna feel it for days?"

"It's not too bad, after a while. But yeah, you'll definitely be sore. I think I still am."

"Okay, Daddy." Yeseo leans into you, resting her head on your chest. On your other side, Mashiro joins in too. Yeseo sighs."It was really, really good. I... I knew it would be, but I had no idea. You were so gentle at first, and then so rough, like I needed it."

"Well, I'm glad," Mashiro says. "And don't worry. It gets better every time."

"Really?"

"Mhm. You've got a long way to go, Yeseo-yah, if you wanna get as good as Unnie."

"You're a good fuck," you tell Yeseo. "You've got talent, Yeseo-yah."

She giggles. "Thanks, Daddy."

Mashiro looks at you, smiling, and kisses your cheek. "So what do you think, Daddy? You okay with this being a regular thing?"

"I... yeah. I can deal."

"Good. Because next time, you're fucking us both. Together."

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AO3, AFF

[skamenglishsubs]

Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 2

Episode 2 starts days or maybe a week after episode 1. The curfews and phone ban is in place, so Wilhelm and Simon make the most of their one hour of phone sex talking.

Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm snapped a quick instant picture of himself and Simon at the palace in the last episode, using the camera we saw on his desk. The heart is still on his hand, so maybe it's the next day, or maybe he's been filling it in every day.

Cinematography: Intense red light typically symbolizes their mutual love, and this scene is overflowing with it.

Lost in translation: They both finish the phone call with "puss", which means kiss, but not exactly. It's more platonic, something you can say and do with your parents, or your kids, or end phone calls with. The other word for kiss, "kyss", is more romantic/sexual, and would be super weird to end a phone call with. Simon is using that word when he says he would kiss Wilhelm's collar bone birth mark.

Subtext: Of course Vincent doesn't believe anyone was bullied. He's the biggest bully, but what he does is just a joke, or the other guy deserved it. This is gonna be a recurring theme™ in this episode, how various characters look back on and remember, or choose not to remember, what happened to them.

Subtext: If you didn't pick up this meaningful glance, you're blind. The initiation porno was totally real, and Nils and August clearly remember it, and weren't as flippant about it as Vincent.

Culture: In Sweden, inner city schools are typically better and have richer students than the poorer schools out in the suburbs. This is the exact opposite of the typical US school demographical pattern.

Subtext: Wilhelm avoids Farima's question by evading it. Note that it does make sense that she doesn't know what's going on at these schools since she's an employee, she's not upper-class herself. Wilhelm's parents know though since they attended Hillerska, but they would of course never admit it either.

Culture: Ironically, this is exactly how the real-world Danish royal family handled the Herlufsholm scandal in 2022 involving prince Christian. Only when the media storm in Denmark got too intense did they pull him out of the school, while furiously denying knowledge of the abuse or that he was involved in any way.

Cinematography: We're in the cursed music room, but the light is soft and golden, and the scene is just cute. No fight this time.

Subtext: We're touching the theme™ again, but from Simon's perspective. He has the same outsider perspective we have; speaking up about abuse is always good, and if the school's closing because of it, that's an obviously good thing. There's plenty of scenes in this episode showing that most Hillerska students don't share this perspective, they really love their school, as fucked up as it is.

Subtext: Although it sounds like a rehearsed PR line and Felice is thinking about her girl group here, it's gonna come true for her and Sara.

Subtext: Yuck. No further comment.

Cinematography: The immediate cut to Felice getting her aggressions out in gym class shows us exactly what she thought of what the principal said and how much it pissed her off.

Blink and you miss it: Simon audibly sniffs Wilhelm's hair.

Blink and you miss it: Micke made dinner for both of them, but in her depression, Sara ignores the cooked food (Pyttipanna, btw), and makes herself a cucumber sandwich instead.

Subtext: Micke is a man on a mission, and he is constantly steering the conversation towards helping Sara get her driver's license. For him, it's a way to make up for having been a shitty parent.

Culture: Sweden has long been a holdout of stick-shift cars, and if you don't do your practical test in a stick-shift, you'll get a restricted license, so it's not out of the ordinary for Micke to be teaching Sara how to drive one. However, automatics have seen a sharp rise in the last decade, and in 2024 automatics will finally overtake them.

Culture: The green ÖVNINGSKÖRNING sign is compulsory in Sweden if a car is being driven by someone on a learner's permit, with a parent or friend as the instructor. There's also a red version of the sign, which indicates it's a student driver with a professional instructor in a dual control car.

Cinematography: The room is filled to the brim with things to do, there's a bazillion board games, they have books, magazines, fidget thingies, they're drowning in stuff, and yet the girls are still soooooo boooored just because they don't have their phones. Except Madison, who is knitting.

Subtext: Here comes the theme™ again, and Fredrika is firmly in camp denial. Everyone else is just lying and exaggerating! The wheels are starting to turn in Felice's head though.

Subtext: Nils and August are finally talking about the initiation without Vincent being present, and they can finally be honest about what they actually thought about it. It happened, they didn't like.

Subtext: Their idea of fixing it however is not to go out publicly and talk about it, but to just quietly stop the tradition, hoping they'll be the last ones. (Since there are no second-year students in the show, we have no idea what happened to them, so we're just gonna ignore that.)

Subtext: And here comes the reason that August wanted to put a stop to it. He was completely humiliated by it, and he doesn't want anyone else to know that he was humiliated, because that just makes it worse. This is also the reason that traditions like this keep on going, no-one wants to blow the whistle on it, because everyone was abused, everyone was a victim, it's hard for abuse victims to speak up.

Cinematography: The talk with Nils triggered an anxiety attack for August, and being inside his small room doesn't exactly help. Him going so close to the camera that he almost bumps into it really shows how he feels like the walls are closing in on him.

Culture: This, kids, is a standard Swedish landline telephone jack. For the longest time I thought phone jacks looked like this everywhere, but it turns out that this particular design was only used in Sweden and Iceland(!?!). You won't find these in newer buildings because landlines are pretty much dying out, and if there are phone jacks they'll probably be using the much more common RJ-11 standard.

Culture: This, kids, is an Ericsson Diavox phone. The former government phone monopoly in Sweden, Televerket, only allowed certified and approved phones to be used on the network, and they only approved a very small set of phones, so everyone had pretty much the same phones in their homes. However, in the 1980's the market started getting flooded with "illegal" phones from other countries, so the monopoly simply stopped enforcing the rule, and you could finally, finally, plug in that novelty Garfield phone that you always wanted.

Blink and you miss it: Sara is studying for her driving test, and she's reading about driving in the dark.

Subtext: We're gearing up for the main plotline of the season, dropping more hints that maybe Wilhelm's image of Erik wasn't complete, and what August says sows some seeds of doubt in him.

Subtext: This song is objectively not very good, please don't kill me, but it is very sixteen-year-old-boy-just-singing-from-his-heart, not thinking about the text.

Subtext: Simon isn't wearing anything purple, but just after he posts his song video, he picks up a purple shirt, drops it immediately, and then the camera lingers on it. Colour theory goes brrrrrrrr. He thought about Wilhelm, and then stopped because his music is more important to him or something?

Subtext: Unlike Simon, Wilhelm immediately understands how problematic the text is for him, and how people will interpret it...

Subtext: ...but since he doesn't want to hurt Simon's feelings, he lies about why he thinks the song was a very, very bad idea. And he cushions it by telling Simon that he thinks the song is jätte-jätte-bra. Giant-giant-good.

Subtext: Yes, but also no, and someone from the court really should have given Simon some media training and explained to him why he has to be very careful about what he posts. But it's drama fuel, which is why this disaster is allowed to happen.

Subtext: A nice little throwback to season 1, this is exactly what Erik told Wilhelm in the first episode, about making sure that their public image is carefully curated.

Subtext: That's some on-the-nose foreshadowing there, since Felice is one of the main causes for the school ultimately closing.

Subtext: We're back to the theme™, Fredrika is saying pretty much the same thing as Vincent. It didn't happen, and if it did, it wasn't that bad.

Subtext: However, Felice isn't playing along this time, she's starting to speak up about the issues, and the result is a long, awkward silence, because her friends are not willing to do the same.

Subtext: Wilhelm and the rest of the rich kids are of course all wearing pretty expensive high-end hiking gear, in contrast with Simon who is simply wearing one of his usual hoodies and his usual winter jacket that we've seen before. That's a damn fine jacket from Fjällräven, btw, the same company that makes the weirdly globally popular Kånken backpacks.

Blink and you miss it: Henry is getting dragged for his actually quite reasonable objection to the tent groupings.

Subtext: Felice physically distances herself from her friends, and joins Simon and Wilhelm, in a nice little foreshadowing of the show's ending.

Blink and you miss it: Did you miss the line in last episode where Ayub said they were also gonna go camping at Talludden with their classmates from Marieberg? Well, here they are, because they pitched their tents nearby, and decided to go check out the Hillerska camp. It's not just Rosh and Ayub randomly walking through the woods.

Subtext: In season 2, we learned that Stella has a crush on Fredrika that she thinks is one-sided, but Fredrika sure has some kind of reaction to seeing Stella being close with Rosh. Jealousy, perhaps? Not clear at this point in time.

Subtext: Read the room Fredrika, for fuck's sake. At least Wilhelm has started learning to recognize privilege. The other rich kids probably recognize their privilege, but they're mostly just enjoying how much better they are than the poor regular kids.

Subtext: But Wilhelm's still got a lot more to learn. Yes, technically he is forced to spend his summer studying, and technically it is a kind of work, but the underlying reasons are completely different. If he skips it or fails, nothing bad will happen to him, unlike the Marieberg kids who rely on their summer jobs to have any sort of spending money.

Lost in translation: Wilhelm's dad says that the queen is going to be "sjukskriven", which is more serious than someone deciding on their own to take some time off or to use some sick days. It means that a doctor has evaluated you and decided that you are not fit to work, and that if you're a regular person, you are eligible for sick pay for the foreseeable future.

Cinematography: Yeah, mommy is really sick and Wilhelm is feeling the weight of responsibility, but take a look at that sunrise! It's so pretty! Wilhelm is completely in shadow because trouble whatever, but look at how that light just pops, with the sky and the water and the sun on the trees! Beautiful!

[actualhumantrashcan]

I can understand a silly workplace comedy about pirates not being everyone’s jam but I really can’t understand the amount of queer people I see hating on ofmd.

like for one thing most of the debates turn into gatekeeping queerness (which I think has a lot more to do with the ages of the main couples than actual concerns about authentic representation but that’s another post) and the rest are just hateful because it doesn’t directly name or label it’s queer characters but like why do we need that at this point?? listen I love heartstopper with all my heart but it is exhausting to watch them explain queer identities sometimes (even though I do think it’s super useful for younger audiences I’m just not the target demographic!) and ofmd is an explicit, violent, adult show that doesn’t NEED to explain it’s character’s identities.

queer people past their 30’s are usually very well aware of their queerness and have had (hopefully) plenty of time to go through the arc of discovering that. so why would we need to see Stede or Lucius or Ed going through turmoil because they’re attracted to men when they have already come to terms with that at this point in their lives?? i for one find it so fucking refreshing to watch a show where the characters being queer is not their main arc, they just ARE queer and life is still happening to and around them. maybe that’s just the millennial gay in me talking, but it gets emotionally exhaustive to watch show after show where the queer character’s arc is overcoming homophobia. yes obviously homophobia still exists and yes obviously if ofmd was trying to be historically accurate these characters would be living in a very dangerous time to be queer but it isn’t trying to be accurate!! it’s trying to be fun and diverse and kind!!

and also, they aren’t pretending homophobia doesn’t exist!! it’s just addressed in a different way. Stede was emotionally abused by his father for his entire life for being “soft” and then was chased down by his homophobic childhood bullies, one of which explicitly told him that he “defiled” the great pirate Blackbeard by simply falling in love with the man behind that name. Meanwhile Ed was forced into the world of piracy at a young age and developed the entire persona of Blackbeard (who fits the toxic, violent masculine stereotype of the time) to hide the fact that he’s actually an incredibly sensitive and deeply queer man! and is told multiple times by male figures in his life that sex with other men is fine but it is absolutely unacceptable to be in love with a man. both of their arcs contain homophobic rhetoric that is still present in society today, but its never presented as a problem that they have to wrestle with. they don’t have to come to terms with what it means to love each other, they just have to overcome some trials that go along with the complicated lives they both lead as a pirate and former aristocrat. the homophobia in ofmd is woven into the backstory of each and every character, it shapes them into the people they are at the beginning of the show when all of their walls are up and they are performing the “pirate” roles they are supposed to play. and then we get to see them grow and realize that they are in a safe space, part of a community not just on the ship itself but in the life of piracy (which in the show is pretty much explicitly an allegory for queer lifestyles.)

anyway, I could rant about this all day but just truly why do we have to tear people down for enjoying something? why do we have to find reasons to hate something so obviously created with sensitivity to it’s queer audience and with so much queer joy? if historically inaccurate gay pirates going on silly adventures and falling in love are not your thing, fine! but perhaps just let people enjoy things and find your own things to enjoy.

[secretsideblogshhhh]

Imagine you live in a kingdom. Everything in this kingdom was modeled after the founder of the whole city.

This means the house sizes, the utensils, the clothes, every single thing, was made for him.

And for plenty of people this is fine. The clothes fit them, the cabinets are easy enough to reach, the size of the tools are perfect.

But you're a fair bit smaller than this guy was. The clothes are extremely baggy on you. You struggle to keep them on. They get in your way and you trip over them all the time.

You can't reach the cabinets, the tools are hard to hold in your hands.

Everything you do takes so much effort because nothing here was made for you.

But everyone else gets annoyed by this, not because of the system made that makes life hard on you, but because you're different.

They hate you constantly tripping.

You mention maybe getting a belt to help with that, and everyone you know gets mad at you for even suggesting it.

"you don't really need a belt"

"you could just take some growth medicine, get bigger"

"you don't deserve special treatment just because you're different"

"well everything works just fine for me, I don't know why you have issues"

And it's frustrating. The only person who you can relate to is your buddy Tim, who's a whole lot bigger than the guy everything was made for was.

His clothes cut off his circulation, they actively hurt him.

He hits his head on doors, he can barely use the tools because they're so small to him.

He wants to make his own clothes, but he can't afford it because he can't keep a job.

No one wants to hire a guy who can't hold the tools, or who needs a break every few hours so he can take off his clothes in the bathroom to breathe.

And even if he did manage to get the money, the tools are too small. He'd have to hire someone.

And hiring someone would cost so much more.

Of course the responses he gets are similar to yours.

"you're just lazy, it's not that hard to get and keep a job"

"have you tried just losing weight? That's probably what's causing all your issues"

You and him bond over this. How the world is cruel to you for being different. You found each other because of you were different from everyone else and it brought you closer

But then people see your friendship. It would be natural to assume that your friendship makes sense. You have the same struggles after all.

But no.

People see that you're friends and say

"well obviously you're both making up your issues, it's so rare for even one of you to exist. But 2 of you? You have to be lying for attention"

You try to show them that your issues are real, because you want help. You'd love for others to understand and help you fix the way the kingdom is built.

But people look away, they ignore you. Either pretending to not see you or they just invalidate your experience.

"everyone has rough days"

"you just got some poorly made clothes"

"He just wants an excuse so he doesn't have to work"

"if you just tried harder-"

Everyone seems to have some solution for your issues, ones you've tried a hundred times before.

Everyone seems to have an opinion on your existence. Usually pity or disgust. Often a mix of both, though the disgust isn't something anyone will admit to aloud. Their actions speak loud enough though.

That's how it feels to have a disability. Especially an invisible one. You have to fight just to be heard and it's exhausting.

Everything that you do is a struggle people who aren't disabled just don't understand. And it's infuriating how they write you off just because they don't want to even try to understand

[briarmoon1015]

I think I’ve already confessed that I’m not a big birdflash fan, but there is something I really gotta point out because it’s bothering me.

I see a lot of people use specific comic panels to try and show how close these two characters are, but completely miss the whole point of the comic itself.

For example, I’ve seen a lot of people use panels from The Flash 1987 210, in which Wally reflects on his relationship with dick.

The problem with this is they are literally cutting out the next part of the page that explains that they have drifted apart

Wally is extremely different from dick, and once he takes up the flash mantle, it becomes clear that these two characters are on different paths. Wally wants to uphold the legacy of the flash, dick desperately wants to escape the legacy of Batman. Wally has a wife, three children, and a stable job. Dicks life changes at a moments notice, one minute he’s broke, one minute he’s rich, sometimes he has a job as a police officer, sometimes he’s dating one of his many red headed girlfriends, he’s the opposite of stable.

And that’s not to say the different characters can’t be friends or be together, but as this same comic shows, these two often struggle to understand one another once adults

Wally, after zoom caused his wife Linda to have a miscarriage, went to Hal as the spectre for help, which no one liked, including Dick. He is somewhat miffed Wally didn’t come to him, be he also sides with Bruce about how reckless and stupid the action was

He definitely empathizes with Wally’s situation, but he’s not really there to give support. Later on, dick does start to get the point, and the two take down gorilla grod. Dick apologies for his actions and both agree to stay in touch more. Obviously every good friendship is going to have some moments of tension and disagreement, but I think this really shows why Wally and Dick fell apart as adults.

And this really is the crux of why I’m personally not a big fan or birdflash. These two characters are inherently different and it’s so rare for me to see any birdflash content that acknowledges this. They can be together in a way that acknowledges and builds off of this, but it really hasn’t been done.

More importantly, I’ve noticed that to make burdflash work, a lot of fans completely erase Wally’s character to ignore these differences. His own goals, his own backstory, his own relationships, are just gone so he can be with dick. There is never any acknowledgment of the canon of Wally’s own motivations, such as living up to the flash mantle, or any mention of his connections to characters outside of Dick.

Even more so, I think erasing the presence of his wife and kids from his life so he can be with dick is really hard on the character. Linda is so essential in Wally’s life. She is the character in which speedsters learn the importance of having a lightning rod. She is the one to often push Wally to keep going. His kids redefined his life. He literally broke the source wall in order to keep them in his life. These are essential relationships that are just erased from Wally’s life.

As someone who truly prefers Wally over Dick, it hurts to see a potentially good pairing erase the good aspects of Wally like this. There is plenty of erasure done to other dc characters because of how popular the Bats are, and this ship, at least to me, is one of the worst examples. These characters are different, and often times it makes it hard for them to understand each other. Ignoring that issue doesn’t make the ship good in my eyes.

Anyways, I really don’t want to poop on birdflash as a whole. It is by no means a bad ship, I personally just don’t really like it. It has a lot of qualities that bother me. Despite all of this though, I do love seeing people’s art of it and I actually do think it can work a bit better when they are young and apart of the teen titans. I also know as a halbarry shipper I’m throwing rocks in a glass house lmao. But please ship what you like, I really don’t care, I just needed to shout into the void about my feelings around it :)

[didyoulookforme]

I’m so sorry in advance but I really unfortunately need more foul “you just fucked someone else didn’t you” stylist!au drama…. Like she surprises him at his hotel room and there’s already cum on the sheets or another girls panties on the ground😵‍💫 love u b 🫶🏻

that night after the show, you go back to the hotel bar and have a couple of gin and tonics with the crew. you don’t really drink much, just enough to melt some of the stress off your shoulders and let you mind slow down for a bit. it’s also just enough to give you courage and walk to matty’s room a few hours later. you always text him prior, but what the hell, you decide to go for it and see what happens.

you have to knock a few times before he makes it over to the door, him seemingly taken aback at the fact you’re standing there. though, you appearing unannounced is no more surprising than his disheveled appearance, open button down barely clinging on to his shoulders, black boxers showing through his unbuttoned pants, unruly dark curls framing his face. you know why. you’ve seen him like this plenty of times before—either after he fucked you or someone else.

you can’t help but eye him up and down a few times, smirking and shaking your head once you finally meet his gaze, him teasingly telling you to “fuck off” contrary to him opening the door so you can walk in. with just a few strides you find yourself in the middle of the room, staring at the bed where they obviously slept together. her forgotten black underwear crumpled on the floor by the bedside table. (he has no idea.)

the alcohol in your bloodstream is still making you bold, so you take a seat on that same bed, finding matty leaning his shoulder and head against the wall, arms crossed as he curiously stares back while neither of you say a single word. both of you know what’s going to happen, it’s just a matter of who makes the first move. and in this occasion, you do so by asking demanding that he fucks you like he just did the other girl earlier that night. it’s his turn to smirk, raising his eyebrow as his teeth catch his bottom lip. is that so?

you just nod, matty slowly making his way over to you as you pull down the straps of your dress, letting the fabric bunch at your waist, your tits bare and on display for him as there’s no bra underneath. so pretty.

on instinct you start to slide up on the bed, but he shakes his head, smiling as he motions his finger in small circles for you to turn around. you stop immediately, the way your legs squeeze together not going unnoticed by him. matty is now standing at the foot of the bed and grabs your hips, helping you get on all fours. just like that, baby.

you look back as he’s pulling his pants and underwear down, not even bothering to step out of them as he strokes himself hard, always making sure to have a condom ready as to not waste any precious time with you. it doesn’t take long before he’s thrusting into his fist, using his other hand to push up your dress and pull down on your red silk panties. you try to shift your legs to get the material off, but again, he halts you from going any further, leaving your now damp underwear stretched halfway across your thighs. please?

it’s not even a minute later before he’s pounding into you fast and hard, holding your ass in place as he tries to find that spot that makes you scream. and he knows he’s found it when your arms tremble, making you lose your balance so your face ends up buried in a pillow, thankfully muffling all the ungodly sounds spilling from your lips, but made only worse as he leans forward to lick a thick stripe from the middle of your back up to the base of your neck.

you love that he makes you feel this good and hate to think that he does so to other women too. but what you don’t know is that no one else drives him as mad as you. no one tastes as good as you. no one fits around him as perfectly as you do.

yes, he fucked the other girl just like this hours before, trying to get himself off as she was on her hands and knees for him. but he always needs to feel you close, and tonight’s no exception, not missing a beat as his arms wrap tight around your waist, raising you up so your back is now flush against his chest. this new angle, matty fucking your from behind as you barely stay upright on your knees, scrambles any thought left in your mind, not being able to focus on anything else but him.

you don’t even notice that your eyes have been closed until he starts rubbing fast, tight circles on your clit, jerking them open to watch his fingers tipping you closer to the edge. that doesn’t last long, though, as he cups your chin, turning your head so he can see your fucked out expression the moment he makes you cum. it’s his favourite. you are his favourite. and when you do cum, he can’t help but grin as he sees your eyes roll back to the back of your skull, loosening the grip on your face to run his thumb over your open lips, wanting nothing more than to see you like this every night.

it takes a bit for your breath to settle and gain back some consciousness, feeling your cheeks heat up as he’s still looking at you with that stupid, smug smile of his. you also realize that matty is still hard inside you, feeling even more embarrassed as you clench around his dick making him tease you. can fuck you again if you want, darlin.

and while that is enticing (hell, you want nothing more), he’s surprised when you shake your head, shifting yourself forward and almost feeling bad for matty as he whines when he’s no longer inside your warmth. you turn around to face him, still on the bed but now sitting on your heels. your hand instantly finds his cock, taking off the condom and throwing it on the floor. you’ll deal with that later. for now, you just want to look at him, his shirt now completely off his shoulders but still hanging on his forearms, hips slowly moving back and forth as you stroke him and make precum drip from his tip. to you matty is the pretty, beautiful one out of the two. he’s always been.

you probably look ridiculous as you finally try to wiggle yourself out of your underwear, but matty’s laughter turns into a string of swears as soon as you wrap the red coloured panties around his dick and use the silky fabric to get him off. the side of your head is pressed against his chest to keep him upright and you feel as his heart beat quickens with every flick of your practiced wrist. you notice as his cum quickly soaks the material, the red hue almost matching the colour of his swollen tip.

you wish your hand was the only one (other than his) to make him feel good. that you were the only one to stare up to see his puffy wet lips open in a perfect circle, eyelids heavy with lust as he tries his best to not cum right then and there due to pure pleasure courtesy of you.

it’s only moments after that you feel his dick twitch as his warm cum ruins your underwear, stroking him until he asks you to stop, matty desperately grabbing your face between his hands as he hungrily kisses you for the first time that night. always s’ good, sweet girl.

the two of you end up making out while in bed, tangled in each others limbs as each kiss is more soft and tender than the previous. as always, you giggle when he licks the tip of your nose, a small but sweet gesture that’s only reserved for you and you alone. but you don’t know so.

reluctantly you get up to fix your dress, mentioning how you need to take advantage of the queen sized bed while you have the chance. he grabs your wrist and pulls you down for one last peck, wishing you a good night. as you bid farewell, you don’t miss the chance to toss the wet underwear on his chest. for your collection.

you wink and make your way to your room.

and next morning, he doesn’t know what to feel more embarrassed about: the realization that you’d noticed the other girl’s thong (he found it and instantly knew) or the fact that he used your stained underwear to get himself off again.

[cookiebelle]

Damian Priest NSFW Alphabet

Pretty self explanatory.

NSFW under the cut, so please, MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY. I am not responsible for the content you choose to consume on the internet.

Read the accompanying one shot here!

Warnings: smut, obviously. Afab reader. Oral m&f receiving. Kink. Pet names. Mention of knife play. Not sure what else. Let me know if I should put up any other warnings.

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

Damian strikes me as a protector. He is always quick to wrap a possessive arm around his teammate in the ring, or care for them after a particularly brutal match. For that reason, I think he’s pretty decent at aftercare, once he’s gotten over that beautiful afterglow. He gets up and cleans you off, then runs and brings some snacks and water while you get up to pee (because you should ALWAYS pee after sex!!!), both of you crawling back into bed and him wrapping his arms around you until you fall asleep.

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

He’s really into his arms, I think. They’re so strong and yet capable of being soft when he holds you close to him. He loves to show them off and flex them, and he loves the tattoos that cover them.

As far as you goes, he’s always had a thing for eyes, so he’d probably say that if you asked him. He’s an ass man, though. So in actual reality, it’s that. He loves to squeeze it, pinch it, smack it. You’re lucky he keeps his hands off it, period.

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

The man looooooves it when you swallow. But he loves coming on your face even more. When he pulls out, coming on your ass is a must. But more than anything, he loves that primal urge to cum inside you and claim you for himself, and who would you be to deny him? Bonus points: he lives for pictures of you with his cum on your face. Has a whole folder of them on his phone.

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

Prior to you guys getting together, in the years you two were “just friends” with palpable sexual tension, he would jerk off to your Instagram photos. Nothing particularly racy, either. Just pictures of you that did enough to put your image in his head. He will absolutely take this secret to his grave.

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

Pretty experienced. Remember his NXT days? Exactly. He really has slowed down since then, though. That being said, during your friendship, you’ve seen him with plenty of girls. It’s safe to say he knows exactly what he’s doing, and he knows enough to still take the time to get to know exactly what your body needs.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

This is pretty tough. He likes missionary, he loves taking you from behind, and he loves when you ride him. His favorite, though… would have to be a mating press or something of the like. Something that leaves you fully open and accessible to him so he can get *deep* inside you, and that also leaves you pinned and folded up in a way that he has complete control over you.

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

Get you a man who can do both. Sex is fun for him, and even more fun with the right partner that he can just be himself with. He loves to laugh, no matter the activity. His more serious side is definitely present, though, and it doesn’t take much to bring it out. He can go from laughing and playing with you to “that’s right. Take it, slut” in .2 seconds flat. He loves the look in your eyes you get when he brings out The Serious Voice, especially in public.

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

Very well groomed. He’s a man who takes good care of himself, his hair is no different. It’s not waxed/shaved, but it’s definitely trimmed well.

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

He’s surprisingly gentle and sweet when the moment calls for it. He absolutely worships your body in a way you’ve never experienced before, like every inch of you is gold to him. Even when he’s rough and Dominant and needs you like air, there’s a level of intimacy in the urgency. Oh, and he’s a fucking great kisser. So even in the filthiest moments, there’s unmatched passion between the two of you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Oh, absolutely. Before a match. When he’s away on tour without you, or you without him. At this point he has some good nudes of you so he doesn’t have to resort to your Instagram pictures. One of his favorite things is mutual masturbation. He’s an exhibitionist at heart, and he loves putting on a show for you. He loves seeing you get so turned on by him stroking himself, if he’s not careful he’ll cum way too fast.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

So many but here’s a few:

Bondage: he likes tying you up. He learned a few basic shibari techniques and absolutely has had you walking around with a rope harness under your clothes a few times.

Breeding: does he want kids eventually? Probably. Right now, at the height of his career? Not exactly. However, there’s something so distinctly primal about growling in your ear that he’s going to fill you up until it takes and make you carry his baby so you can be all his. The idea is just as terrifying to you, but that doesn’t stop you from desperately begging for it.

Dumbification: in the sense that he likes to get you so cock drunk to the point where you’re unable to string a coherent sentence along and he can coo condescendingly at you “oh gatita, what’s wrong? Is it too much? Good.”

Impact play: he has big, strong hands and a penchant for making you whine and beg with every slap across your ass. For more? For him to stop? The world may never know.

Knife play: he collects close range weapons. Safe to say he has a collection of knives along with that. He has one specifically for playing with you (one of his favorites, something as pretty as you). He drags it lightly along your skin while you’re tied up, or even gently scratches his initials into you when you two are really deep in the moment. He rarely draws blood, honestly, but the danger of having a blade to close to you is just intoxicating.

There’s so many more, I could write a whole fic just about his kinks.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

I think he’s a semi-public sex type of man. Like out in the alleyway behind the bar, or in a far corner of the bowels of the arena you’re performing at that night. He’s strong enough to pick you up and pin you against any wall, and boy does he take advantage of that.

As far as in your respective living spaces, he’s definitely a traditional bedroom guy but he’s also a “bend you over the counter while you’re cooking dinner” guy and a “eat you out on the couch while you’re watching a boring movie” guy.

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

YOU. You smiling and talking with your friends as he observes you from across the room. You doing your skincare at the end of the night. You wrestling. You doing the most mundane things like grocery shopping or cooking. He waited years to be with you and now that he finally is, everything about you turns him on. When you catch him staring, you love to tease him. Giving him that innocent look he loves so much, or little touches along his arm as you walk by. Expect a text from him, promising you’ll pay when you two get home.

When you’re alone, the teasing is so so so much worse. Bending over in front of him to show off your ass, or getting down on your knees at his feet, only to tie his shoe. Eventually the teasing becomes a game between you two and you wait to see which one of you breaks first. It’s almost always you, much to his delight.

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

It goes without saying but human waste is just not his bag. He doesn’t have a lot of turn offs, it’s more of a situational thing than anything. There are times that he can’t stand to make you hurt (impact play, cnc, etc.), there are times he loves it. He won’t scar you, though, or draw a lot of blood (some beads of blood from scratching you are fine). No lasting marks that aren’t done by a professional.

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

Damian Priest is a pussy eating champion. He’s all about quality, not quantity. Giving you head for an hour doesn’t mean anything if you’re still coherent by the end of it. He can make you cum an embarrassing amount of times, very quickly, with his mouth on your clit and his fingers buried inside your cunt. By the time he’s ready to fuck you, you’re not sure if you can even handle any more (you can, and you do).

He l o v e s you giving him head. It’s one of his all time favorite activities. You look up at him with those big eyes while you take him down your throat and he is GONE. It’s pretty rare that he’s at a loss for words, but your mouth wrapped around his cock officially turns his brain into standby mode. He loves holding you by the hair and fucking your mouth. He loves letting you do all the work. He loves it all.

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

He’s a slow but powerful fuck, most of the time. He makes sure you feel every inch of him, and every thrust knocks the wind out of you. He can be rough and fast, too, especially when he finds that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back into your head.

He’s capable of being slow and sensual, too. It’s not often, but there are definitely moments that are charged with passion and feel as though you two are of the same body and spirit.

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

Loves a quickie, ESPECIALLY before a big match, just to quell his nerves. At least that’s what he says. You think he’ll just take any chance to put his hands on you (you’re right). He loves one in the morning before you guys get up for the day, too. Just something to get him going. “It’s better than coffee,” he’s said many times.

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

He’ll try anything once, and he’s learned he likes a lot of things he would have never guessed.

He takes risks in the form of fucking you where anyone could happen upon you, or coming inside you and stealing your panties when you’re wearing a skirt/dress. At the HOF ceremony, you absolutely wore his cum dripping down your thighs in your pretty gown, and he smirked every time you adjusted the way you were sitting in order not to stain it.

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

The man’s an athlete, and a good one to boot. He can go at least three rounds on an average night, more on a great night. He lasts pretty long, too, when he has the time. A night in with him is an hours long adventure that leaves you completely exhausted by the end, for sure.

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

I don’t know that he had toys by way of vibrators or anything like that before you and him started seeing each other. Not that he’s against them, he just didn’t have them. With you, he’s down to try anything. His favorite is the hitachi wand. He loooooooves torturing you with it. You got him a fleshlight/pocket pussy because 1) you wanted him to have a toy to play with when you two were apart, since you have a vibrator, 2) you wanted to watch him use it during your little mutual masturbation sessions, and 3) you wanted to use it on him just to torture him as much as he tortures you. It was a rousing success.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

So much??? Like so much. In public it’s constant. Little touches, glances in your direction, pulling you to sit on his lap. Sometimes he steals you away to a random hallway just to make out with you and grab at your ass, for just a moment, then breaks the kiss and walks away as if nothing happened. He leaves you completely disheveled and turned on, and just smirks at you from across the room when you re-emerge after fixing your clothes and hair.

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

He’s known for his deep, booming voice and aggressive roars in the ring. In the bedroom, it’s no different. He’s talking dirty, in English and Spanish, to the point where he truly doesn’t shut up, just babbling nonsense by the end of it. He’s groaning about what a good slut you are for him while you take him deep inside you. When he cums, he’s extremely vocal, but able to keep the volume controlled when people are around. If he didn’t, the entire Raw roster would hear him (and they definitely have at least once). He’s growling praises while you take every drop of him, groaning when your cunt clenches around him.

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

He’s a secret switch, but only in the sense that he’ll give you the illusion of control over him, just to snatch it back from you when you least expect it. He does, however, love seeing you feel powerful. It’s incredibly sexy to him. But he loves being in control more, and you make the cutest face when he’s suddenly on top of you.

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

👀 I mean, he’s a giant. I can’t imagine he’s disappointing in that department by any means. The first time you fucked, you were certain he was ruining you. And, truth be told, he was. You’re not sure you’d be satisfied with anything else at this point.

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

HIGH. Like twice a day and three times on weekends kind of high. You wake up to him begging for you (yes, begging. In Spanish.), and he’s on you the moment you get into bed for the night.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I think Damian is a man who can survive on little sleep, so he usually is awake even after you fall asleep. He sits up and alternates between watching tv and watching you sleep.

[jennaimmortal]

Musings on OFMD Season 2

I’m feeling a bit sad today for the OFMD writers. After rewatching S1 & 2 a couple times, it’s become blatantly clear to me that Izzy’s arc this season was a very obvious love letter to both Izzy fans & the great Con O’Neil. Izzy was very clearly written to be an obstacle to Ed’s healing & personal growth, a snare that Ed needed to be freed from, albeit with plenty of nuance hiding under the surface. It would have been much easier for them to kill Izzy off while he was still the toxic, abusive, sadomasochistic terror of S1E10.

Instead of taking the easy route, though, the writers flipped the trope on its head! They utilized every bit of the potential buried beneath Izzy’s super fucked up shell. This season Izzy got

• a fully fleshed out redemption complete with terrible consequences of his 1x10 actions

• a realization of the possibility of another way of thinking & existing that he’d spent all of S1 running from & trying to destroy,

• genuine love & support from his crew mates which he was actually able to accept,

• exploration of the long abandoned softer side of his nature,

• an apology from Ed w/o first offering one of his own,

• a powerful, devastatingly poignant speech that mentally demolished a new nemesis, and finally

• a beautiful, meaningful death in the arms of the man he’d dedicated so much of his life to, known that he was truly loved by him & completely accepting of the fact that Ed’s love was not in the form he’d always hoped for.

It was so much more than we could have hoped for, and was very obviously done in service to the MANY fans that had fallen in love with Izzy even after S1, as well as to give Con a storyline worthy of his immense talent. Considering the face that Izzy was never going to end up becoming the show’s third protagonist, it was more than we could have hoped for!

OFMD has two protagonists, Stede & Ed. All the secondary character narratives that haven’t directly involved Ed and/or Stede have been icing on the cake, but the cake has always been the Gentlebeard love story. I feel like some people forget this, expecting them to treat the secondary characters as if it were an ensemble show instead of a show with leads.

Izzy’s arc really was an amazing gift! The writers gave us this incredible journey for Izzy this season, and what did a disgraceful number of people do? They attacked David directly, insulted the entire show, the writers, & other characters, even wishing actual harm & misery to other characters or even to David himself!

While I know that comparatively speaking, the percentage of show fans who reacted this way was relatively small, it was still an astounding amount of hatred & vitriol thrown at the people who had obviously worked very hard to give Izzy fans something beautiful to hold on to after his inevitable death. Much of the discourse honestly shocked me, considering the fact that OFMD isn’t even an adaptation of another work.

When fans get angry at shows written as adaptations of books, it’s a bit more understandable for them to have extreme reactions. They’ve had certain ideas and headcanons about characters they’ve felt very strongly about for a long time. It can be really jarring & painful when expectations like that aren’t met, the characters or plots are taken in totally different directions, or even excluded entirely.

OFMD, however, is an original creation. This is David Jenkins’s story. These are David Jenkins’s characters. He knows his story, his plotlines, his characters far better than anyone else does because they came from HIS brain! So while we as fans can have our own interpretations & head canons, they are always going to be at risk of being proven totally wrong by the ACTUAL canon.

One of the worst aspects of fandoms, in my opinion, is the way people become so proprietary over the story & characters, insisting that their own interpretations & theories are the only correct ones, which is exactly what happened with Izzy. Fans’ individual & collective interpretations, theories, hopes, & other head canons became concrete & true in their minds. So much so that when the actual story didn’t meet those expectations, so many of them lashed out in some truly unpleasant, sometimes hateful ways.

My only hope is that the rest of the fandom’s love, appreciation, constructive criticism, heartbreak, pain, joy, & excitement has been enough to drown out the deluge of vitriolic comments directed at David & the other writers.

If you stuck with me through this unintentionally long diatribe, thank you! Maybe take a moment to give the writers some comments or replies on social media, showing your love! I know I will!

[chishiyasleftnut]

Hi!

I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH!

Can I request a (funny) valentines day gone a bit wrong smut?

Hi there (｡♥‿♥｡) Happy (early) Valentine’s Day! I’ve learned that I really enjoy doing these seasonal fics haha, so thank you for suggesting it!

As for other requests: I am working on them! My semester has started and I’m still working on an exam from the last semester, so my schedule is PACKED. I will get to them, though!

Delayed Valentine's

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Warnings: Smut. Pairing: Chishiya x fem!reader.

Plot: Chishiya wants to surprise fem!reader with something special for Valentine’s Day, but his plans don’t go as expected.

2434 words. 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

If there was one thing Chishiya didn’t have a lot of experience with, it was romance. Sure, he was a pretty good flirter, charming anyone he set his mind out to charm, but this was different; this was you. He had already ‘charmed’ you. You were his, through and through, and had been so consistently for a while now, long enough that he even dared to call it love.

Even though showing love was completely new territory for him, it didn’t mean that he didn’t try. No, Chishiya had decided to try very hard, and seeing as Valentine’s Day was coming up, the timing couldn’t be better.

He knew that he could go the easy route: buy some roses, put on some sensual music, and make a romantic dinner just for the two of you, but that was almost too easy. You had probably had other boyfriends in the past who did that, so he knew he had to up his game. Simple wasn’t good enough, not when it came to you.

After researching online, he came up with the perfect plan: a romantic getaway. Just you, him, beautiful scenery, and no responsibilities. From what he could gather online, this was something that women loved, so he was pretty sure you would too. Then the organisation began: booking tickets to Okinawa, finding a beautiful and luxurious hotel, researching good restaurants in the area, and calling your boss to convince them to let you take a few days off. Luckily, it all went smoothly. The day prior he packed both of your bags with all the necessities and a few gifts. This would be great, he thought.

You didn’t learn of the plan until the night before and even then, he kept it annoyingly vague. You walked into your shared apartment wrapped in various winter garments to keep you warm in the cold, Tokyo February weather. Chishiya greeted you at the entrance, leaned against the wall.

“We’re going somewhere tomorrow.”

“What, after work?” you asked sounding both surprised and happy. You were well aware that tomorrow was Valentines Day but didn’t expect Chishiya to remember (or care).

“No,” he said with a smirk. “You’re not going to work. We’re going to the airport at 7am.”

You were just about to argue - you couldn’t just skip work, what was he thinking? - when he pulled you closer, his lips grazing your forehead.

“I have sorted everything out, don’t worry,” he whispered. “Just trust me.”

-----------

7am the next morning you were hauled into a taxi, still half asleep while Chishiya and the taxi driver loaded the trunk with your luggage. For the entire drive, Chishiya sat beside you with an arm around you, kissing your temple and whispering into your ear about how he was going to spoil you for the entire trip.

To your surprise, Chishiya was likewise as cuddly the entire way through airport security, despite him otherwise seldomly participating in PDA. His hand rarely left your waist, only letting you go to pass through the metal detector and immediately touching you again once he joined you on the other side.

Due to Chishiya’s perfectionism, you had plenty of time to peruse the various airport stores before it was time to board the plane, looking at everything from perfumes to tacky souvenirs. Every time you tried to make a purchase, Chishiya would pull out his credit card before you even had a chance to pay yourself. He was taking Valentine’s Day seriously, it seemed, but you obviously weren’t complaining. It was nice being pampered.

Having finished your shopping, Chishiya led you to a nearby flight board to check what gate you had to proceed to.

“Ah fuck,” you heard him mumble. Curiously you followed his line of sight and noticed the big, red letters saying DELAYED displayed next to your flight number.

“That’s okay,” you quickly said to calm Chishiya down. “It’s probably just a little bit late.”

Oh boy were you wrong.

10 minutes turned into 30, which before you knew it had turned into 4 hours spent on uncomfortable metal airport seats. Chishiya looked particularly tense, his leg anxiously bouncing, and his jaw clenched - perhaps because his well-throughout plan was crumbling before his eyes and he wasn’t entirely sure how to remedy the situation.

This was definitely not how either of you wanted to spend Valentine’s Day. The day was supposed to be spent at a beach resort with a fruity drink in hand, not at Haneda Airport’s terminal 1. But here you were, facing two choices: either you went home and cancelled the rather expensive trip, or you stayed waiting at the gate for God knows how long.

It was clear to you that it was those two choices that Chishiya was internally trying to make sense of. If you left now, he could drive you to a spa somewhere and then maybe get you dinner after. That wouldn’t be a bad plan, but it would mean wasting a ton of money on non-refundable plane tickets and hotel reservations.

Chishiya groaned and leaned back on the uncomfortable chair. He rarely outwardly showed displeasure like that, but you couldn’t blame him. With his hand in yours, you began drawing circles on his palm with your thumb. The contact seemed to calm him down somewhat, his leg slowly quieting down and his jaw unclenching.

“It could be worse, you know?” you said softly, trying to make him feel better.

“How could it possibly be worse?” he sighed with closed eyes.

“I don’t know... Godzilla could be wrecking the airport? I could be pregnant? A lot of things could make it worse!”

Chishiya slowly opened his eyes to look at you like you were insane.

“Ah yes, the well-known, very realistic situation of a giant, radioactive lizard ruining our Valentine’s Day plans.” he said dryly. “As for the pregnancy thing: don’t even say it. You’ll jinx it and we’ll be stuck changing diapers for the next few years.”

His tone shut you up immediately. Normally he would at least chuckle a bit at your nonsensical words, but it didn’t seem like he had the spoons for humour right now. Unsure what else to do, you continued to draw circles on his palm until he closed his eyes again. 

You felt bad knowing that he had tried so hard to make you feel loved, just for everything to go wrong. At this point you didn’t even care about the trip to Okinawa, you just wanted him to feel as happy as he had intended to make you feel. The least you could do was make him relax a bit. And that’s when you had a lightbulb moment, causing you to lean in closer to him, your breath tickling his skin as you whispered.

“Let’s go to the bathroom.”

The blonde turned to look at you. Although he knew what your intentions were, he was still confused as to why you were suddenly in the mood for public sex. Surely failed plans wouldn’t get you in the mood.

“Come on,” you repeated with a smile, standing up and pulling Chishiya with you towards the nearest accessible bathroom.

Once inside, you locked the door and turned to look at Chishiya who still looked quite confused albeit now also a tad amused.

“May I ask why you’ve pulled me into a handicap stall?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and the faintest smile on his lips.

“Well 1) I’m terribly bored,” you laughed, causing Chishiya’s grin to widen too. “And 2) I can see how tense you are about this entire thing not going as you envisioned. I just want to tell you that it’s okay. I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Is that so?��

“Mm,” you hummed and nodded. “It was very sweet of you to plan all of this. So, thank you.”

With two confident steps, you walked closer to your boyfriend and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself in close to him. Without even thinking, Chishiya’s hands found their way around your waist, squeezing you slightly.

“Let’s just forget about the plane for a minute and celebrate Valentine’s Day anyway. What do you say?”

Chishiya didn’t respond with words, but the smile on his lips as he leaned in to close the small gap between you told you all you had to know: he was finally relaxing.

Your lips met in an at first tender kiss, completely transporting the both of you to another universe - one that wasn’t an ambiguously clean airport bathroom. The only thing you felt was Chishiya’s soft lips on yours and his strong hands squeezing around your waist. Your lips parted, begging for Chishiya to explore you fully which he did.

All you could feel, hear, smell, and taste was him as he took over every single one of your senses. He backed you towards the wall, pressing you up against it with his own body. His hands moved from your waist to roam around your body, going up and down the natural valleys of your curves and traversing every inch of you.

With his body pressed up against yours you couldn’t help but feel his hardening length prodding your abdomen, only getting harder and harder the more skin his hands covered. Swiftly, he hiked up your skirt and slid his hand down your underwear causing you to gasp at the sudden sensation.

Your arms tightened around his neck as Chishiya began circling your clit, making you wetter and wetter with each orbit. Instinctively, you felt him grind up against your body to provide any sort of relief from the uncomfortably tight tent that was forming in his pants.

Unwilling to wait longer than he had to, Chishiya quickly pulled down your underwear, letting them slide down your body until they reached the floor where you stepped out of them. With full access to you, he likewise as rapidly dropped his own pants to the floor, pulled one of your legs up around his waist, and teasingly ran his tip up and down your wet folds, coating both him and you in your arousal.

“You’re already so wet for me” he murmured smugly, satisfied with your bodily response to his touch. His words sent fire straight to your core, making you whimper for his touch.

“Please” you whispered breathlessly into his ear, pleading to feel him fully.

Chishiya didn’t waste even a second before he sunk his fat tip into your entrance, pushing his entirety into you until he bottomed out and pressed up against your cervix. His body twitched and his breath turned shaky as he got used to the feeling of your tight, wet walls hugging him, simultaneously begging him to stay right where he was and to begin fucking you.

And he did just that. With rhythmic movements he repeatedly thrusted in and out of you, sending both of you to heaven with every plunge his dick made into your wet core. The sounds of your moans and whimpers echoed through the tiled walls of the bathroom, the only other sound being that of skin hitting skin.

With your fingers intertwined in his blonde locks, and his fingertips strongly digging into the fat on your hips, you immediately became one with one-another, transforming into a single being whose only purpose in life was pleasure - and it was certainly succeeding at that task.

“I want to see that pretty ass of yours” Chishiya growled into your ear before pulling out of you and leaving you feeling terribly empty.

The emptiness didn’t last long, though. Chishiya swiftly spun you around and lead you towards the sink, pushing your upper body over the cold porcelain.

With both hands firmly on the sink to stabilise you, you made eye contact with Chishiya in the mirror as he lined himself up at your entrance and immediately pushed in, fucking into you so good that your vision went blurry. The pleasure made it so that you didn’t even notice that he leaned down over you, positioning his mouth right next to your ear.

“God, I love you,” he half whispered, half groaned.

You wanted to reply, to tell him ‘I love you’ back, but nothing intelligible came out of your mouth. Chishiya, as always, found both humour and pride in the condition you were in.

“Mm, what’s that darling?” he purred smugly. “Use your words.”

“L-love you t-t-too” you finally stammered out.

“Good girl.”

Chishiya fully stood up again allowing for deeper thrusts, effectively hitting your cervix each time. It was the perfect mix of pain and pleasure, making you crave more in the moment despite knowing you’ll regret the roughness later.

“Mmph, m’close,” you mewled as your core tightened around Chishiya. “Don’t stop.”

Before you knew it, one of Chishiya’s hand has snaked from your hip and down in between your legs, aiding along the rapidly approaching orgasm by playing with the needy bud.

You came hard; so hard that Chishiya had to cover your mouth with his free hand to not attract unwanted attention from the rest of the airport. Chishiya came not long after, his hips stuttering until he half-collapsed down over you as he spurted his seed deep into you, his shaky breath dancing against your sweaty skin.

For a moment you both stayed in that position, too fucked out to do anything else. Chishiya was the first to come out of the trance-like state, kissing you on the cheek to awake you too before he stood up and got dressed again. You followed suit shortly after, putting on your still damp underwear to cover your core, which was dripping with both of your arousal.

With his hand around your waist, Chishiya led you back out to the waiting section by your gate. There, you were both greeted by a welcomed sight.

“Seems like boarding is in 10 minutes,” Chishiya commented casually as if he hadn’t spent the last 4 or so hours on stressing about the delayed flight. Perhaps the sex had helped to calm his nerves a bit.

“Thank God,” you exclaimed with a chuckle before sitting down and going through your bags to find your passport and boarding pass. “We’ve waited ages.”

Chishiya chuckled too, happy that you didn’t seem to mind too much that his otherwise lovely Valentine’s Day plan hadn’t worked out as he envisioned it. He helped you find the documents, holding the both of yours in his hands. To show his gratitude for your carefree approach to the entire situation, he gently placed a kiss on the forehead before whispering.

“You’re going to love the hotel.”

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

If I have to deal with brain rot about this absolutely awful man, so do y'all! Really looking forward to playing Dead Money so I can torture you with more.

Dean Domino (Fallout: New Vegas, Dead Money DLC) NSFW Headcanons

Is the King of Swing good in bed? Complicated question; he's too selfish to say that he is with any confidence. It depends on the day, frankly. He was a massive slut back in his prime, and he's perfectly well acquainted with how to show you a good time when the two of you are in bed together. Whether or not he cares enough in that moment to bother to make you cum is an entirely different matter. There are days he wants to show off, wants to hear you tell him how good he is, but there are also plenty of days where he'll happily use your body to jerk himself off and won't think for a second about your pleasure beyond what it'll do for him. On days like that, he wants you wet/stretched enough to take him, but that's all he cares about.

I've discussed this with folks a bit in replies on other posts, but I think it's very worth elaborating on: he would be so fun to dominate. He'd be the world's most petulant, bratty sub, and so confident that you wouldn't be able to break him, that he'll stay cool and in control of the situation, no problem. However, he's sorely mistaken. Dean Domino is a brat who was made to be broken. Tie his ass up and beat him a bit. Edge him until he literally cries. He insists he won't beg; prove him wrong. It's the sweetest sight you've ever taken in. I've never met a single character who needs to have his cock slapped like a million times more than him. And honestly, I think if you gave him the full routine and then treated him completely neutrally over the proceeding few days, as if nothing had even happened, he'd beg then, too, desperate to experience what you made him feel again...though not without a lot of petulant bitching first. How dare you act like you can drag him around by his prick, just because you absolutely can if you do it right...?!

Any ongoing relationship with Dean is going to be a constant power struggle. As insecure as he obviously is, he's forever rearing to "put you in your place" in a litany of ways; talking down to you, insulting you flippantly, all the nonsense you see from him when you interact with him in-game. If you don't push back at him (or show him where his place is, per the previous point), he will absolutely walk all over you, including sexually. Maybe that's what you're into. He doesn't really care all that much as long as he's getting whatever he wants out of you.

Biter. Always has been. Used to get a kick outta fucking actors and actresses and just covering them in bite marks and bruises that would be incredibly difficult to cover with makeup, because he likes attention and he's possessive, even of toys he doesn't particularly want to play with anymore.

Almost never takes off those goddamn sunglasses (because, in my mind, he thinks they make him harder to read...plus, he has super light-colored eyes, and once he's traveling the desert, he's constantly blinded by the sun), but one of the rare times you can guarantee he'll remove them is when you're giving him head. He wants to be able to see every detail of you worshiping him with your lips and tongue.

Obviously he's big into degradation, which is clear in the way he speaks to you, about you and others. He can, however, be persuaded to be rather sweet (though still entirely self-aggrandizing) when he's in a good mood. He'll tell you how gorgeous you look...on his cock. What a pretty voice you have...why don't you sing for him some more so he can hear how good he makes you feel? Every compliment also has to basically be a positive comment to himself, as well.

Leg and ass man. He makes some comments about Vera that hint at this, but he's not usually quite so tactful about it. Will openly grope you in public, both to embarrass you a bit and because he doesn't care enough to hold back when he feels like touching you.

Really enjoys a giving you a good cum facial. He finds it just the right mix of disgusting, dominating, and possessive. If he can find a way to force you to keep his cum on your face, he will. Even better if someone else sees you that way.

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, part 20

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.

Previous part

Part 20: dark desires

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What do you want Husker?" I knew he was crossing when he first stepped out of the house. I sat just beyond the tree line with my back against a large oak. I had heard the door close, the sway of grass as he walked, his steps, his breathing, and felt his red magic about half way across the field.

I had barely slept last night. I woke up before dawn and made my way to my new sitting spot. I could hear the crash of the waves at the bottom of the cliff and the whirl of the wind across the field. The peaceful serenity was nice. The calm, external environment was helping me figure out how to feel internally. Until Husker showed up at dawn.

"I wanted to check on you." He stepped out from behind the tree.

"I'm fine. Never better. Why do you ask?" I had my legs pulled up and my arms dangling over them. I kept my one hand covering the bruised one.

"I thought maybe you would be happy that the curse is finally gone. But...you obviously don't feel that way."

"I shouldn't..." I pressed my lips into my shoulder to keep myself from spilling. I wasn't sure why I didn't want to talk about it with Husker. I had told him plenty before but this time I was hesitant.

"I'm usually good at guessing what's wrong," he tried, "but this time I'm a little lost. Did something else happen? Was there a memory?"

"No, he...I didn't..." I wrapped my arms around my legs and leaned my cheek into them. I was still holding my human form but I could sense everything as if I was in my Demon form.

My hands shifted so the bruise shone a little. Husker pointed and asked, "May I?" So I let him brush his claws across my injured hand, the muscle and skin popping and fixing itself. I turned my head the other way and gritted my teeth from the pain.

When he was done, I withdrew my hand to my chest and stared off into the forest. Husker was quiet. He sat in silence with me for a long time. I could hear his breathing and his presence sat on the outside of my shields.

I let out a huge sigh, Husker's ear twitching in my direction. I turned my head so he was partially in my view. "I don't...I should've known that he wanted something more with me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...I thought he just wanted to teach me how to defend myself against a Demon. That way he didn't have to ever think about keeping me safe again, but...I...he..." I struggled to find the words. I didn't want to tell Husker about the Sanctuary in case it somehow got back to Alastor. "When we touch I can feel both of our magic combining. He wants to keep me because it gives him more power. Which means...I can't do anything without him. I can't have a life anymore."

Husker was quiet. I could feel his presence fully around my shields as if to comfort me in some way. He physically sat adjacent to me against the same tree. I could hear his tail thumping and even feel it vibrating through the ground.

"Well, you know," he leaned over so his shoulder touched mine, "he's gonna teach you everything he knows. And you've obviously got your own kind of power and experience. Sooo...." he tilted his head, drawing out his words. He was waiting for me to finish but I obviously wasn't getting it. "So you may one day be better than him."

I actually laughed. It was short and high pitched. I stood up and spun on my heels, planting my hands on my hips. "This is the Radio Demon we're talking about. He's been around for thousands of years. He's had all that time to practice and master who knows how much magic. I've barely lived a second in comparison to him."

"True," he agreed, "but even he has his weaknesses. He's teaching you all the tricks which means you'll know how he thinks. It's just a matter of time."

"That's what I'm upset about." I paced around in a circle. I let my Demon side show and dug my foot claws into the soft earth. "In order to be even close to his level, I would have to train with him for hundreds of years. I don't even know how long I live for."

"Demons don't really have a timeline but most of us live longer than the average Human."

"I don't want to be stuck with him!" I yelled. My tail whipped behind me as my pacing increased. I went up to a tree and raked my claws down its bark. "I deserve to pick the life I want to live. He gets to decide what life he wants because he's got the power, but I deserve to decide."

"He's not really..." Husker clicked his claws together. "He's more...you won't get through to him unless you've got some kind of power. And...you may have to suck it up and train with him until you've reached that point. You've seen how he reacts when your shadow shows up."

I glanced down as my shadow morphed into the woman. I had yet to come up with a name, though I was heavily leaning towards Alcine. It seemed like a nice, elegant name for a woman who's shadow looked like that. She nodded her head at me on the grass.

I let out a strangled sigh. "I just...I have my own plans."

"I know." He pushed himself to his feet and stood in front of me. "I know exactly how you're feeling. So I want to do what I can to help you get there."

"What about you?"

He shrugged. "One step at a time. Maybe you'll even be able to convince him to let me go. But let's take this one day at a time."

I rubbed my clawed fingers together. "Okay."

****

"Are you finally ready, darling?" Alastor stood on the scorched symbol at the cliff, his eyes and teeth glowing brightly in the dim moonlight. His hands rested on top of each other on his red cane. I hid my Demon side as I walked up. My feet felt like they had glue on the bottom of them, making each step harder than the last. 

"Where are we going?" It was the third time I had asked. 

"Out. I think you've been stuck in this dusty house for too long." He uncurled a claw from his cane and held it out, his smile widening. 

"You and I both know kindness isn't your thing." I looked up through furrowed eyebrows and an angry scowl. Anger was easier to manage than fear.

He hummed a short laugh. "You pain me. I'm not all bad." He inched his hand towards me more. 

I sighed. "Yes you are," and took his hand. Our combined power rushed through my veins and took my breath away. I had to take a moment to recover while Alastor soaked in the feeling. He pulled me closer and teleported away. I nearly grabbed his arm when the ground disappeared. I was slowly getting used to the feeling of teleporting.

When we touched solid ground, I looked around at the dark landscape. We were on a roof but there were several huge buildings surrounding us. Not all the floors were lit up and most of them didn't even have windows or walls. I inched to the edge and saw a lively scene beneath me. The major streets were covered in yellow, electrical lights and people had to push themselves through the heavy crowd. 

This was one of those Old World cities. Since the Great Collapse, many major cities had fallen to nothing but ruins, leaving mother nature to handle them how she wanted. I had been in a ring of sorts in one of these cities. When an old ring had been discovered, everyone had to go find a new one. On the way, Striker and I had spent a night in one of these big cities. He heard of a fighting league, a legal 'ring' fight with willing participants. He had participated in a fight himself then offered me up to their champion. The fight lasted under two minutes.

I knew he would probably still be in one of the legal towns, but that didn't stop me from scanning the crowd in search of Striker's sharp face. "What are we doing here?" 

"There's someone I want to see if you recognize," Alastor answered nonchalantly. He stood just a hair behind me, his presence snaking around my shields. He didn't push through, which surprised me, but the fact that he was actively surrounding me didn't make me feel any better. I tried asking who I was supposed to be looking for but he didn't respond. He fell silent and just stared at me. I hated when he did that.

For awhile I simply watched. We were hidden on a roof that towered just above where the electricity stopped running. There was no one on the floors of the buildings around us and the shadows kept us well hidden from any curious eyes. 

After awhile, I sat down with my legs crossed and continued to watch. I was actually enjoying it. I stretched out my magic sense and felt everyone who came within distance. I could sense their emotions and feel who had Full magic and who had Slight. There were a few Demons hiding themselves in a human appearance, their magic's color shaping their outline. I imagined myself walking in the crowd with them all, brushing shoulders and going about a normal life. When I 'touched' them, it felt like I was sucking some of their energy straight from their body. 

A cold shiver ran through my body. I casted a glare at Alastor as his presence finally penetrated my shields. I tried wrapping my mind in a black cloak as if to keep him from reading my thoughts. I didn't know if he could actually read thoughts but I wasn't eager to find out. I turned back to the crowd to look for someone I would recognize. If he was trying to get in my head, that must mean he saw the person and wanted to see my reaction. 

It took me a few moments before my eyes locked on a man. I didn't immediately recognize him but I couldn't look away. He had a sturdy build, an ugly frown, and scraggly hair. My heart quickened and my hands started to sweat. What was wrong with me? Why was I freaking out? What was it about this man? No memories surfaced as I tried to remember.

He walked down one of the small streets and I followed, scrambling to my feet and jumping to the neighboring rooftop. I watched him from my high perch as he strolled halfway down the less-lit street. He leaned against the old building and pulled out a smoke. He was wearing a long sleeve which seemed odd for such a warm night. He put his hands in his pockets and just looked left and right. I knelt down and continued to watch him. What was he doing? Who was he waiting for?

Eventually, a second man walked down the street and shook hands with him. I leaned lower and casted a light wind to carry their conversation up to me. 

"That's thirty credits for the boy and forty for the girl," the newcomer said. He pulled out metal squares, called credits, to count them and drop them in the man's hand. 

"What do you want next?" the big man counted the credits himself before stuffing them into his pocket. 

"They're looking for two boys, around nine years old give or take."

"No girls?" 

"No. They supposedly have too many now and not enough fighters. They need the boys for the fights."

"Nine is awfully old." The big man blew out a puff of smoke. "They can't disappear as easy as younger kids."

"Which is why you're getting fifty credits for each." 

The big man coughed and took the smoke from his mouth. He cleared his throat and straightened his shirt. "Fifty? That sounds like they want a delivery."

"They do. They want them delivered to Swansbury. You can handle that, can't you?"

"Yeah, of course."

The newcomer held out his hand and the big man rolled up one of his sleeves. I leaned further over the edge to see what was all over his arms. The newcomer took the man's smoke and pressed it the hot end into his bicep. The man let out a grunt but didn't react in any other way. The newcomer returned the smoke after the big man had rolled his sleeve back down. The marks on his skin were all burn marks. Why did they do that?

"Your next contact will wear a gray top," the newcomer informed. He swiftly left the small street and disappeared into the crowd. The big man waited in the street, still smoking his cigarette. I watched him closely, trying to put together his face. I knew him. But from where?

Something pulled me backwards and I found myself in my mindscape. I pushed myself to my elbows and found myself in a memory. Not just any memory, the memory. The man trapped my hands against the cold cage floor and everything came running back. I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed the fear in my stomach. I was suddenly standing and tripped backwards into my shields. I shook my head and pulled myself back to reality. I opened my eyes to an empty alley.

I jumped to my feet and rang along the edge of the roof for him. I found him down another small street, walking into another small building. This one had electricity shining through some of the shaded windows. The man appeared on the third level and collapsed on an old rickety bed. This was the man that had assaulted me.

My Demon side slipped out and I dug my claws into the concrete of the rooftop I sat on. So many emotions came flooding through me as I stared at him. He was a ring hunter. He was the people who stole children and sold them to the ring fights. I had so much energy buzzing through my body I didn't know what to do with. I wanted to bring the building down and watch him suffocate from the crushing rubble. 

"You can do it." 

My ear twitched as Alastor's lips brushed against it. My hands were shaking the harder I pushed them into the concrete. My heart couldn't slow down.

"You have the power, now."

My vision started to blacken around the corners. I was zeroing in on his helpless, clueless body on the bed. He was going to sleep peacefully and would wake up the next day to ruin another child's life. 

"You can put a stop to him."

My breathing grew shallow. My hands were sweaty and my tail whipped back and forth on the roof. My wings pressed into the floor on either side of me to give them something to do. I wanted to jump off this roof and crash into his room. I wanted to wrap my claws around his throat.

"It would take a flick of your wrist."

Alastor's hand was gripping my shoulder as he leaned further over the other one. He was kneeling beside me? Behind me? There was so much energy bouncing between us that I couldn't tell where he was in contact with me aside from his claws in my shoulder. 

"End his life to save so many." He gently grabbed my wrist and pried it off the edge of the roof. He lifted it up so my sharp, black claws curled around the man's figure. "Restrict his airflow." His throat closed and his eyes shot open. He clutched at his neck and rolled of the bed. He banged his chest as if to dislodge an object from his throat. "Watch him writhe as you did."

The man's flailing slowed until he finally laid still on the floor. The outline of his body grew red until everything about his was glowing red. It was his soul. I quickly cut off my magic. A second later the man gasped for air and the outline disappeared.

Alastor was everywhere. I abruptly withdrew and broke away from him. "I'm better than that," I clutched my hands to my chest, "I stopped the killing when I left the ring. I'm not going back to that. I'm not a Demon."

"Oh darling," he stalked over to me, "you are a Demon." He leaned down so his face was level with mine, arms folded behind his back. "It's how you managed to survive for so long in those fights. It's in your nature."

A door slammed shut, drawing both our attention back to the street. The man had run out of the building and was making his way to the crowded street. A huge, dark figure appeared at the end of the street and snarled at the man. He casted fire at the illusion and went the other way. Alastor chuckled and looked at me sideways. He grabbed my forehead, covering my eyes, and I felt my body drop. 

A second later I was gliding over the lower buildings on the outskirts of the city. The man was still running, casting glances over his shoulder for his pursuer. Various black figures scared the man from certain streets, herding him further away from the crowded street. I jumped from building to level and back again. I could taste the fear of the man. It was sweet and electrifying. I wanted more. 

The man tripped and scrambled behind a pile of crates. I jumped down on the other end of the alley where the man wasn't looking. The streetlight behind me blinked. The man's head swiveled in my direction. The light turned on and my shadow--no, Alastor's shadow--stretched down the concrete. 

"Good day sir!" Alastor's chipper voice came from my lips. I wasn't actually here. I was seeing through Alastor's eyes. He stalked slowly and precisely towards his prey. The man tried casting fire but his veins bulged and he cried out in pain. He curled into a bawl, sobbing and begging for his life. Alastor leaned down so his face was inches from the man's and said, "You've gotten in my way."

His claws latched around the man's throat. Half a second later, the man's life faded from his eyes. He slumped into the ground and Alastor straightened up. He snapped his fingers to call the dark figures to surround the body. He effortlessly lifted himself to the rooftop and made his way back. I could see my own body laying on the ground as he knelt beside it. He covered his eyes and my own flew open, my body lurching forward. 

"What are you do--"

He caught my chin in his claws and held our faces close. "You are a Demon by nature. Your power will grow until you can no longer handle it, unless you learn how to properly exercise it. That is what I'm doing." He shoved my face away and stood. 

"What did you do to him?" I pushed myself to my feet. 

"You'll know by tomorrow when I make my broadcast." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

Thank you all for your patience, kind words, and understanding! I hope this chapter makes up for yesterday. How power hungry do you think we'll get? Can we fight the urge? How persuasive will Alastor be?

[badchoicesworld]

i hear you requested requests! ive got one!!

hobie x masc reader that's gwens older brother (ik its not canon, but the canon can fuck itself) (sorry miggy)

i dont really have anything in mind for reader's personality or whatever (so thats up to you!) but id like if reader liked to draw (thus ended up drawing hobie and got caught by him hahaha cliches i love them)

where hobie meets gwens older brother (you !)

hobie x masc!reader

this actually gave me hella ideas, im gonna link it to what happened in the movie (sorry it took a while, life fucked me)

didn’t specify if it was platonic or romantic (WHICH IS FINE ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥) so i’ve just done general shit for both lmao

warnings: none

pairing: hobie brown x masc!reader

requests: open, i cant let the demons catch me

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

when you first meet hobie you’re so very thankful to him for taking care of your little sister

if gwen managed to hide her being ghost-spider from your guys’ dad, then she likely hid it from you, too

but obviously, your dads gonna have to tell you why gwen didn’t come home one day

you’re crushed, naturally. likely furious at your own dad for literally firing a warning shot at her

might have ran away yourself, maybe hobie comes to your rescue too

or maybe you two meet while hobie’s dropping off his homemade gizmo for gwen, and you’re so unbelievably thankful for him and his generosity when you meet him

of course you will be, he took your sister in while you couldn’t do anything to help

hobie’s probably side-eyeing yours and gwens dad but is happy to get along with you if you’re gwens bother

he cant stay for long at that moment in time, got a multiverse to save and all that

but the brief interaction opens doors to many opportunities in the future

hobie gets to hear about the brief reunion between you and gwen from her, after she went back to her own dimension before it was show time

he becomes very intrigued by you

next time you two meet is likely after they save the multiverse (WHICH THEY WILL WITH ZERO CASUALTIES UNLESS ITS MIGUEL.)

BUT GENERALLY SPEAKING NOW

miguel definitely doesn’t approve of hobie using his watch to travel dimensions just to see you or gwen, still does anyway if he doesn’t just build his own

probably came to see gwen, pick her up to bring him to his own dimension, whatever

sees you instead, target acquired

hobie’s heard plenty about you from gwen, likes to think you aren’t strangers so is super friendly, overly even

catches you in your room, drawing in a well loved sketchbook

definitely does that thing where he just fucking appears behind you, he’s that quiet when walking despite the accessories

he’s looking over your shoulder while you draw silently, you might be too distracted to notice or you’re immediately started by him

smug asf when you finally catch on, is especially entertained if he’s caught you drawing him, god forbid

wouldn’t be surprised though, he likes to make people stare so is honestly complimented if you’ve been trying to draw him since first seeing him

doesn’t just snatch ur sketchbook and start looking through it though, unlike someone

as an artist, he gets it

you’re probably super protective over ur sketchbook actually because of gwen, smh

will probably banter a little bit about that, tease something about gwen that you’d both be victim to, like her tendency to borrow things without permission

find common ground yknow

“ain’t it a pain when she [gwen activities]” but you’re not being mean ur bonding it’s fine, we don’t slander gwen (i do however have some strong words)

starts hanging out with you on the odd chances gwen isn’t home, just casually in your room at first

starts off talking about your guys’ interests, seeing if you have things in common

probably listening to music together

the closer you get, he starts to actually travel dimensions just to see you

casually waves to gwen before ducking into your room

is happy to just kick back there, but is also happy to go out and do things at that point

the more you hang out, the more your dad and gwen begin to tease you- which is nothing in comparison to the shit hobie faces

gwen easily told everyone else about you two hanging out, he never hears the end of it now regardless of dimension

hobie starts using the front door instead of just appearing in your room “son, your boyfriend’s here” ur devastated why would ur dad say that

THENN hobie starts to come to your dimension for you more than gwen, has probably already invited you back to his once or twice but now he’s a lot more frequent with invites, wants you to consider his place a second home (in case you ever wanna run from home, cough)

say something does blossom between you two, obviously you don’t label it cause hobie’s not about that

you get promoted from “gwens brother” to “hobie’s boyfriend” at some point even if you don’t use labels- that’s only if ur not like too close to the rest of the friend group, but i imagine you’ve gotta be

hobie probably talks more about being spider-man relatively early on considering the topic, but since you know his secret identity it doesn’t really matter to him

the closer you are, the more into his stories he is

is ready to reenact the whole thing for you now so it’s like you were there

draw each other, i dare u

make playlists for each other, perhaps ?

there’s a lot of gwen snitching to each of you

and then you two do with that information together what you will later

like if you’re just being gay for each other it’s wild how fast gwen goes to the other and is like “guess what he said” she is not slick about it

hobie can be found at ur place more often then not, your dads a little more iffy about you going to a different dimension

still, very grateful to be welcome in your home but hobie definitely prefers to kick back at his

hobie loves to bother gwen about your whereabouts, if you are a thing or not “where’s your brother at?” he’s pretending to be cool about it

does your dad approve ? who cares

but nah he’s way more open minded after the incident, thinks hobie is a peace of work and probably his own son too if you’ve got a similar personality, in that case you’re perfect for each other

if not he’s just happy you’re happy, that’s all he cares about

obviously gwen supports it, likes to claim she introduced you guys and you owe your relationship to her when she tries to win in an argument/conversation

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

[weirdthinkingdragon]

Obsession of Kamisatos

Can you guys imagine a friendly you coming to visit for a few weeks after Inazuma was opened to other places after the vision hun decree was over, and having the Kamisato siblings and their housekeeper grow obsessed?

You all can fight me on this (doubt it though because it’s most possible), but Thoma latches on quick. Obviously being the first to also meet you. Him somehow being able to show you a bit around Inazuma from having a bit of free time, and your little playful clips back at whatever he says already was enough to drag him into starting to be obsessed. 

Days go by and the two of you made it a thing to meet up at one point of his day he has free. it just gets worse and he starts slipping a few times around Ayaka and Ayato about you. 

That draws Ayaka’s attention, making her want to meet you. Because who in the world is making him even more naturally smiley and happy than he already was? 

At first it was rather awkward meeting her, but with the help of Thoma on both ends, you and Ayaka quickly become surprisingly good friends. 

It’s like 2 dogs seem to start following you around whenever possible. Lingering touches, especially on your lower back became very common with Thoma. Unfortunately for them, they do still have their responsibilities to take care of. You’ve caught some stares and glares, but nothing bad ever seems to really happen to you. One person who shoved you rather harshly while walking past once never seemed to be seen again. A rumor was they fled Inazuma for some sort of misconduct not accepted by the Kamisato clan. And no one questioned it. 

That leads to Ayato. He helped do it only because Ayaka was so adamant what that person did was wrong. He knows it isn’t the whole truth and eventually figures it out. That leads him into knowing he has to meet you. He has to make sure you’re not a threat to him or his sister. 

At first, Ayato was heavily guarded because usually such kind people around him had ulterior motives. That guard goes down though the more you seem confused of his sharp tongue that would be able to pick apart pretty much anyone guilty of something. 

He was still in the process of becoming obsessed when you told the three of them you’re leaving in a week. The panic in Thoma’s expression for a second was alarming even to you. 

The two try to lengthen your stay the next few days by even offering to let you stay with them, which weirds you out, but that’s fine. Maybe it’s just an Inazuma thing? after all, usually people who tried to leave didn’t exactly make it out. 

Their desperation slightly gets to Ayato, and he finally falls to the obsession when you awkwardly pat his shoulder when he was in a rather stressful situation. In the most bizarre way, it helped. But then he craved your touch. 

He starts having you be dragged everywhere, even to his meetings with Thoma not far behind. They have a mutual shared understanding of their obsession in that moment, and Ayaka wills it. She’s so happy there’s someone around now to make Ayato more truly happy, AND Thoma. Better yet, she knows they’re willing to share you! 

The day comes for you to leave, but you find out you can’t. Your travel documents have been denied? That makes you freak out. You’re sure they were fine before! After all, how else would you have gotten to Inazuma? 

Ayato and Thoma come up and say they have plenty of room with them until you can figure it out. They each carry a luggage of yours. Ayato on your left, carrying it in his left, and interlocking his right hand with your left hand. Thoma on your right and again having his arm on your lower back. 

little do you know just how... permanent the stay is to be.