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mintmatcha · 1 year ago

Text

MONSTER FUCKING

Fandom: Dungeons and Dragons

The night continues with Obsidian.

cw: cisfem reader, feminine nicknames, female receiving oral, OC x reader, monster fucking, a TINY BIT OF DUBCON, overstimulation

PART TWO OF TWO (Part one: here)

a/n: again, big thanks to @saetyrn9 and @tyga-lily <3

He doesn’t return until the fire is burnt low, nothing but embers. His figure is nothing but a silhouette against the hall light as he creeps, doing his best to move silently around the room. His dirty clothes are replaced by the sheerest of shirts and pants, thin enough that even in the low light you can see how his scales shimmer in hue, purple and green where the firelight touches. Every now and again he throws a glance towards you, tucked neatly on your side of the bed, and then sighs, low and forlorn.

It feels wrong to watch him while he thinks you’re asleep. Even alone, he makes his movements so small, crouching to take up little space as he fiddles about, oiling his scales and the other mundane things he has to do before sleep. It hits you that he might be insecure about the space he takes up.

The world is not kind. It is tragedies and maladies, injustice and inhumanities. Tensions are always simmering under the surface, chaos always threatening to boil over. Horrible, awful things plague this world and not a single person is left untouched or unchanged.

Through all of that, Obsidian somehow remained gentle. That’s what you admire most of him- the softness he carries himself with. There’s a bitter edge that clings to you, a callus that won’t come off of your palms. He treats you well anyway, despite it all.

“You never got to ask your questions,” you say, voice only just louder than the last licks of fire.

Obi starts at the sound of your voice, then his shoulders soften. He drags himself to the edge of the bed, hands folded politely in front of him like a scolded child. He smells faintly of lemon and soap: soft, sour, and refreshing.

“Why are you still awake?” he whispers, affection honey sweet in his tone. He reaches to grab your ankle, then hesitates before dropping back to his side. “My curiosities can wait for another day.”

The night air is cool against your cheeks and the sheets are not thick enough. Obi, in all his emotional and physical warmth, is just out of reach. When you extend an arm for him, he doesn't meet you at first, hemming about like a child. It’s goofy, for such a grown man to seem so shy- you have to bite your lip to hold your smile back.

Instead of waiting for him, you peel back the sheets and crawl to him. It’s impolite and unladylike, but it earns you a smile from him and an outstretched hand. This time, he doesn’t pull away when your fingers loop with his, instead closing tight.

“I’m sorry Kiri said all that.”

“You don’t have to apologize for her behavior,” he says, eyes never leaving the spot he’s chosen at the end of the bed, “I heard how you… scolded her.”

The innkeeper had threatened to kick you all out after the way you berated the poor girl, screaming in the hallway in just your nightgown, but the elf had deserved it. She’s barely older than a teenager in elf years, you remind yourself, but that isn’t an excuse for bad behavior.

Tomorrow, when the sun is up and emotions aren’t high, you’re sure the group will discuss it all, but for tonight, you want to tend to Obi’s wounds.

“Was I too harsh?” You trail a thumb across the back of his hand. Knees on the mattress, he’s still much taller than you, able to rest his chin on your head if he wanted.

“Too harsh? No,” The hint of amusement you’ve come to love is back in his voice, “Too loud? Debatable.”

Imitating you, he drags his thumb back and forth in comfort, the rounded nail grazing against your skin. Finally, he meets your eye, the green piercing even in the night. The feeling of want is thick, slowing every breath as if your ribs are stuffed with molasses, and all you can think is that you hope he feels this too-- hope he wants this too.“I appreciate you standing up for my honor.”

“Always,” you say. A heat drips into your core as you realize his claws are trimmed and rounded-- just for you. “Anything for you.”

You rest a hand against his chest and wait in the silence, savoring the luxuriant feelings that fills your throat: want and need and desire and greed and contentment and bliss-- all a muddle you can’t swallow again, filling you, but also leaving you with a hunger that can’t be sated.

“You should rest,” he says as he slides his arms around you, grabbing handfuls of cloth.

“Ask your questions first.”

Verdant eyes flicker down, marked by his chittering. It’s like a purr, you realize-- a sound of pure contentment. Feline is the way he moves, elegant and fluid.

“Does it really feel good-” His knuckle drags down your chest and hints over the apex of your breast, “When these are touched?”

He hesitates there, a breath away from you, wondering, hoping. The air crackles a bit wilder with magic for a moment- a response to his excitement.

“Obi,” You loop a finger under the strap of your nightgown and guide it off of your shoulder, pushing the neckline dangerously low. “Do you like my tits?”

“You should know that it’s very cheeky to answer my question with a question,” he leans forward and bumps his head against yours, nuzzling ever so slightly The ridges and tiny horns ruffle your hair and all you can do is giggle and squirm into it, bumping your noses together. His touch has wandered dangerously low, cupping under your ass and lifting you into him.

Then, he sobers, voice lower than ever.

“Yes.” He takes the satin edge between his fingers and delicately, carefully, lovingly moves the other strap down the other shoulder, guiding it until your breasts fall free. Obi swallows thickly, then runs his tongue across the upper ridge of his teeth as he takes in everything about you. “I like them very much.”

His nose is textured against your skin, grooved yet smooth against your clavicle. Each breath is released so slowly that it blooms with heat, crawling across your chest as he moves down, loving every inch above your breasts. The journey is marked with kisses and nips, the lightest touch of his teeth. The way he reveres the boring parts of you makes your heart flitter and, by the time he’s sucking a bruise into the fat of your tit, your body is trembling for him too.

“I didn’t realize they were so…” Teeth sink into your tit, testing the give. The other is cupped by his wide palm, lifting it into the side of his muzzle. “Malleable.”

When he opens his jaw again, wider this time, it’s marked with the click and suck of wet. Strands of spit string together for a fleeting moment, following his panting tongue.

Oh, he’s no longer feline. He’s closer to a dog, feral and drooling for you.

The rough edge of his tongue dragging against your nipple rips a gasp from you, but it only serves as a siren’s call. His body presses into yours, folding your legs back and forcing you back into the down of the bed. The sheets crunch under you as you’re moved by the force of the way he indulges. You should scold him or warn him of the way you’ll bruise in the morning, but a heat consumes every aspect of you, robbing you of any thought. The scorch of his mouth, the delicious drip of spit trickling down your ribcage, the ambient heat that’s simply him- it all ignites that pulling, twist, blazing heat in your core, a fever you can’t sweat out.

Obi pulls away just enough to look at you through slitted eyes.

“My fawn,” he purrs, “Now you are being too loud.”

His hand grips your side hard enough that even the trimmed edge aches.

“People are going to hear you,” he continues, tongue dragging down the sweat touched valley between your breasts, “They’re going to know you’re being bedded by some beast."

That makes your stomach flip, then flip again, tying your insides into a sickly knot. Your hands find the ridge of his horns on their own. Their length is surprisingly long for his age, more than enough for you to tug and stop his descent. Obi glances up at you, giving you the reprieve you need. Both of you lay there, breathing in sync.

"Don’t say things like that," you say once you've caught yourself, "I don't like that. You're not…"

Lemon oil, mixed with the pressing of some sort of shrub nut- that's what he oils his scales with. It makes his skin so soft and makes the air always marked with him.

"You're not some beast." You rub a thumb down the ridges of his horn, "You're my prince."

The words feel so corny coming out of your mouth. You're no wordsmith, unlike him, but you can see the statement physically hit. At first, he just slightly draws back, then his eyes go wide before becoming intensely soft. Then, he curls in, tucked his chin and resting his forehead against your collarbone.

"Oh," he says, voice on the brink of laughter, "Oh, my fawn, my princess--"

He squeezes your hips again. "You're going to shatter my heart one day, aren't you?"

Before you can respond, he's kissing you for real. It's different from anything else you've experienced with humans and elves; his mouth is different, firm lips unable to fully pucker. The feeling is strange, with too much teeth and pressure,but so, so, welcome.

Obi must enjoy it too; he shifts and writhes, finding his place between your awaiting thighs. You can feel how he grinds into the mattress, strokes long and slow and rough, searching for any sort of pressure. You want to touch him again-- no, need to. You need to see his cock for real this time, coax it out of his body for you to ride.

Another tug on his horns pauses him.

"Stop, just for a second," you say. He obeys, pulling back fully, and you untangle yourself from him.

"Are you alright?" Obi says, a tad dejected, "We can stop-"

You wriggle out of your slip and clumsily push it to the foot of the bed with your feet. A sliver of doubt wrangles its way into your thoughts; even in the dim, you're sure he can see your body and all its imperfections, the scars, the marks, the bits you simply don't like: does he know what to expect? Does he even know what humans look like naked?

The room is cold without the fire going. You have to remind yourself who the man is on top of you. It’s not some stranger-- it’s Obi. Your Obsidian. A friend, a confidant, a brother in arms, and the kindest soul you’ve even met. It strikes you then that maybe you have feelings for him outside of all of those definitions, something closer to love than simple lust.

"I haven't shaved in a while, I'm sorry-"

"You have the body of a nymph," Obi blurts out, voice high with surprise, "You're exquisite."

His pupils are fully round, engulfing almost all of the iris as he soaks in the sight of you.

"Human's do not like this?" He leans down, head just below your belly button, examining when your body meets your cunt. His fingers run through your pubes, "But it's so…"

Mid-sentence he halts, mouth parted just enough that you can catch the jagged edge of his fangs. He swallows deep breaths, sucking more and more until his chest is puffed against yours. Strong, forceful hands loop under your knees and cram your legs apart. You squeal and kick, giddy in your embarrassment and barely able to contain your laughter.

"Oh, you smell so good," he exhales each word, only inches from your cunt. He’s pressing into you, almost folding you in half so he can creep into the bed with you. "That's your quim? That's what you've been hiding?"

He traces two fingers up the clef, admiring it even closer than ever. The rumble in his chest, the purring, is so grand that it shakes your thighs. Like this, strung up and spread apart, you feel so exposed, so vulnerable. You muster up even more embarrassment when fingers part your lips and his steamed breath tickles your most inner parts.

“Don’t look so closely!” you scold, but he doesn’t listen.

"Humans get so wet." You try to close your knees on instinct, but the mass of his body stops you, "Is this usual? Do you always?"

"Only when-- a-aa-ah-"

You find out that he was not looking for an actual answer. Obi takes you by the hips and drags you down into his muzzle, wasting no item before dragging that damned tongue across the entirety of you. He's eager and unaimed, licking and sucking and drooling across every inch of you except where you want him. The crest of his brow digs into the puff of your mound, blocking you from reaching down and playing with your clit yourself.

The want, the need-- it's dizzying. Words fail you every time you try to speak, your comprehensibility robbed by the hiccupped whines Obi is pulling from you. Teetering on this edge is deliciously painful, but you're already losing patience.

Frustrated, you grind your hips down and Obi's nose bumps against your clit. The pressure makes your body sing, so you do it again and again, claiming your pleasure on your terms. A laugh rumbles through your skin as Obi chuckles and obliges, lapping at exactly where you need him too.

Heat sears through you as you cum: hard. It's almost a surprise, boiling over when you least expect it. It’s a flex and release of your muscles, a quick, simple thing that gives you just enough release. It’s nothing life changing, but it’s better than what you get with most men.

You breathe and wait for Obi to move or comment, but he's still, waiting for you to pick up your pieces.

"That was nice." You say after a bit, "Now, why don’t you come here and let me ride you?"

Whe he doesn’t respond, you sit up slightly, only to be caught. A hand presses down on your stomach and locks you in place against the mattress. Dark eyes glance up at you, narrowed.

"Stay still," he says, voice rougher than ever, "I can do better than simply 'nice.'"

Immediately, you regret teaching Obi where you liked to be licked. He abuses that knowledge, focusing on your poor, overstimulated clit until you're nothing but whimpers. Your brain cant think when he's touching you; all you can do is whine. Reaching and grasping for hair that isn't there, your nails run across his scales head and find no purchase.

Then, your own head is tapped by… something. You screw back and realize he's ran you into the fucking wall; you have to extend both hands to stop yourself from being crumpled even further.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit--" This one's going to be big. You can feel it rolling in, coming like a wave.

Two thick fingers press inside you. If you weren't impossibly slick, the stretch would ache, but there's no friction left to resist the intrusion. He explores a bit, pumping and curling and-- there. That's all you need to tumble again, falling and falling and falling-

Until the drop hits.

You're left boneless. There's no resistance in your body as he adjusts you again, throwing your knees over his shoulders-

"Obsidian, no," You drum your heels against his back, "No, no, no, no, I can't take another--"

A deep, rolling growl fills the room as he squeezes tighter, locking you together as his long, firm tongue presses inside of you. You realize he’s speaking an unfamiliar tongue-- Draconic, most likely. It’s sultry tones and clicked vowels, rolling deep and slow into one long slurred sound. Maybe he’s scolding you, maybe it’s praise: you don’t care. He holds you like he owns you-- like he controls you, and you find that you like that.

“Please, please, please, just fuck me already-” You find yourself blabbering, “Need you, need it, just-- oh, Gods and Stars-- Please fuck me, please--”

You clutch on to the mattress and hope the world stops spinning. “On me--- in me, just-- Gods, fucking cum already-”

“No,” Common slips from his mouth, “Not yet.”

The night is a blur after that. There’s no possible way to count how many times you cum; they all roll into one in your mind, an unstable peak. He’s everywhere, he’s everything. You always imagined him as a patient lover, but you’re quickly proved wrong. He’s mean and demanding, drawing everything from you until the ache in between your ribs grows unbearable. Slick runs from your thighs to your knees, ruining the cotton beneath you both. The unbearable sounds of wet fill the room, marked by your occasional protests.

You hate him, you think. Maybe you love him. You can’t tell when your brain is absolutely swimming in dopamine.

“‘m gonna pass out,” you whine, weakly batting a hand against his forehead. The dragonborn pulls away with a dot of a kiss, finally listening.

“Then do, fawn.” Obi’s chest and face shine with a mixture of your excitement and his spit, “Sleep. That doesn’t bother me.”

With that, he spreads you open again. You eventually do drift off, too overstimulated and absolutely fucked to even keep your eyes open. There has to be something to it. The taste? The smell? Dragonborns are more sensitive to pheromones, you think. Maybe he's high off of you?

No, it’s too focused to be solely for him; it must be for your pleasure. He must get some sort of sick fucking satisfaction from unraveling you down to your very core and then continuing. You feel unwound, a ball of yarn left to uncoil and flounder in the breeze

In the moments of twilight between sleeps, you manage to catch him moving, legs positioned around your rib cage as he whines, voice tight when he speaks. It’s mumbled nothings, ripping through his broken voice. Draconic seems to be paced so much slower than Common, each word rolling carefully slow off of his tongue.

Exhaustion sits so heavy that you can't keep your eyes focused. You have to keep one eye closed to even get a glimpse of what he's-

Oh.

Above you, inches away from your face, Obsidian Vyke fists his cock. Contrary to what he said, his body is not very similar to a humans. All of the important parts are there, of course, but the shape is much, much bigger, with a tapered end and ridges running down the bottom. It's an ashen purple, the same color as his skin under his scales, and his balls are a bit darker, hairless and slick with his precum. The head pulses every couple of strokes and you know he's dangerously close to cumming himself.

You want that. You’ve been begging for it this entire night and it’s there, inches from your face. That needs to be inside me, you think, but your poor pussy is twitching and raw from all the attention.

You settle for the next best thing.

With all the effort you can muster, you prop yourself up ever so slightly. You stick up your tongue and the pillow of his cock presses against it. It only takes a couple of kitten licks for him to spill; he crumbles into a whine and your mouth is suddenly painted with thick, potent seed.

It’s… different from other spend you’ve had the displeasure of tasting. Less astringent, more… you’re not sure. When your ex husband used your mouth, you always winced at the taste, but now you close your mouth and suck. His cock doesn’t stop kicking, dribbling more than a man could ever dream of producing. It’s hot enough that you flinch with it touches the back of your throat, but you don’t stop swallowing, draining it down as fast as you can.

The taste was enjoyable, you realize. You liked that, as if you were a common whore. Before any sort of shame can set in, Obi scrambles away, cooing and stroking the side of your face with his usual warmth.

“Oh, sweet fawn, you didn’t have to,” he says, “Let me get you something to spit that into.”

You shake your head and open your mouth again, tongue extended to show him it’s already gone.

"Little minx." Obi speaks with a wild amount of warmth and you bathe in it, letting your eyes close again. "Beautiful, dirty thing.”

There’s no way you’re beautiful now, with your makeup smeared and your hair ruined, but you choose to believe him. The swipe of a tongue against your cheek, comforting, not erotic, elicits a giggle from you. Gods, it hurts to even laugh.

“You’re dripping in sweat. I’m going to steal a towel to clean you up with, alright?” Obi pauses, presumably waiting for your approval, before hurrying about. You can make out the slip of fabric being pulled up, the creak of floorboards, the-

Sleep overtakes you.

The sun is much, much higher than you’d like it to be when you awake. The town is in full force, boys screaming the news, merchants peddling their wares, but you can’t seem to find the energy to join them. Not when the bed is so warm and welcome.

Obi is gone. He’s always been an early riser, so that doesn’t bother you much. Besides, you aren’t sure you want him seeing you like this, knock-kneed and drained as you try to gather yourself together. Down there is unbearably slick still, even after all the time that's passed, and that fills you with a sick excitement.

It’s not until after your bath that you feel remotely human again. The glitter and lust of last night begins to fade as you strap yourself into your clothes, but a relaxed giddiness still hangs on.

By the time you meander downstairs, the inn is busy serving lunch. The air is tinged with salt and spices-- the familiar kind you haven’t smelt in ages, let alone tasted. Familiar faces are crowded into one of the smaller booths, Obsidian’s comically large shoulders bumping against his two elf companion’s. Tensions have clearly calmed since last night. The elf is busy spooning bits of vegetables out of her stew and plopping them into the dragonborn’s.

“You must take my carrots. I know how you like them,” she demands, “And I’ll have your rabbit, since you don’t eat meat. Does that sound good to you, sorcerer?”

Obsidian is already obliging, cornering the bits he doesn’t want out of the bowl. “If that’s what you want.”

"You'll take this bread too. I grabbed an extra for you."

"Oi, you didn't grab any extra for me."

"The Sorcerer probably weighs fifty times what you do, he needs more."

Obsidian pats his stomach with concern. "Fifty times?"

“She awakes!” Tig, Kiri’s lover, croons, head in their hands as they notice you. They are just as lean and beautiful as Kiri is, but painted much, much fairer. “We feared you dead, Rogue!”

“Aye, both of you act as if I would leave her rotting,” Obi bemoans. Both elves turn to the poor man and coo, patting his shoulder comfortingly. Your speech clearly had some effect on the group and that deepens your giddy feeling.

“Did you bathe again?” Kiri hands her bread over to the dragonborn as promised, “I thought you had done so last night.”

You glance over at your… lover? Friend? You aren’t sure. He watches back, brow quirked, waiting for you to lead this dance.

“Just taking advantage of the water,” You reply as evenly as you can, taking the empty seat. Your relationship news to be figured out before you make it public knowledge, especially since your last relationship ended with such…

The dragonborn slides a roll across the table with a crinkle of his eyes, sparing you a train of thought you’re not emotionally ready for. It steams as you rip into it and cram it into your mouth. Hunger suddenly rips through your body and you perk up, searching for the source of this stew.

“Did you sleep well?” Tig asks between mouthfuls. They aren’t as proper as Kiri; they spread their legs wide and take up as much space as they can, holding their utensils like a shovel. If they weren’t so ethereal and genderless, you’d think that they were a half elf.

“Hopefully I didn’t keep you up,” Obi says, offhandedly, “I’d hate to think I kept you awake.”

Oh, that rascal. His nose scrunches as he tries not to laugh.

“You bothered me a bit,” you reply, equally placid, “But I don’t mind.”

“What a shame.” He takes a spoonful of the meal and chews it thoughtfully. Then, he pauses, pressing two fingers into the crook of his jaw. “I must have slept strangely because I woke with this awful ache in my jaw-”

A swift kick to the shin silences him.

679 notes · View notes

fairy-writes · 15 days ago

Note

Hello I don't know if your requests are open, but can I request something for hoshina and Gen?Maybe a bit of angst but ends in Fluff.In this scenario his in a relationship with the reader,but the reader has had a very rough past which ended with their entire family being killed in a Kaiju attack.And they sometimes get nightmares about their family,they reveal the reason why they joined was for revenge they want to kill every existing Kaiju.Their reckless in the battle field,don't care about their life and suicidal.During a mission they were protecting their fellow soldiers and taking down maybe a numbered Kaiju,they ended up getting a very life threatening injury but luckily recovered.

You can choose if you wanna make this dw- I just want some angst with fluff rn 🏃🏻‍♀️💨.

HAVE A NICE DAYYY

FIGHTING TOOTH AND NAIL

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8

Pairing(s): Hoshina Soshiro x Reader

Narumi Gen x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Overworking, Nightmares, Suicidal Tendencies, Gore

Notes: Doing this a bit differently, the beginning scenario is the same for both Narumi and Hoshina. The hospital bit is where it varies.

I did already do a similar scenario with Narumi on my page. It’s titled “Running Away From What?” if you wanna check it out :)

The scenario part went a bit longer than I hoped, so I cut them off a bit prematurely, mostly because I didn’t want to overwork my already overworked brain.

Make sure to read the tags!

__________________________________________________________________________

In the world of kaiju extermination, it was well-known that you were a workaholic. Even more so than most people. You got up earlier, stayed later, and trained with any scrap of free time that you had. You weren’t particularly powerful when going up against powerhouses like Ashiro Mina, Narumi Gen, or Hoshina Soshiro. But you still pulled out enough power to be a formidable opponent in your own right.

You were scrappy, clever, and quicker than most. But that didn’t mean you had magically gotten that powerful. No. You earned every percentage you pulled out by fighting tooth and nail and with broken bones. In short, you earned your team’s respect.

If only you could eradicate every damn kaiju on the planet with that power.

But that was going to be more challenging than you thought.

The battlefield was chaos. People were getting hurt, dying even.

And in the midst of all of it, you were frozen. Your grip on your weapon was loosening, slipping from your fingers, and it took all your mental strength to keep from dropping it. You stared blankly at the kaiju before you.

It was on the smaller side when it came to kaiju, though it was still the size of a horse. It stood on all fours, with a long tail swinging back and forth and blistered skin melting into bulging muscles. There wasn’t a single hair follicle in sight, leaving the skin covered in pustules and blisters that oozed green liquid. It stunk, the overwhelming scent of infection making you gag through your respirator. The beast’s face was corpse-like and looked pieced together with loose skin and a mouth full of broken teeth.

The monster was disgusting. But the smell of its breath brought back memories of bodies torn in half and fires consuming your childhood home.

Your name being called broke you out of your stupor, and you tightened your grip on your weapon. Turning ever so slightly, you spotted a comrade in arms running toward you.

“The kaiju is a daikaiju! It’s rated an 8.0! We have to—” Quick as a whip, the beast’s tail swung around and cut your comrade in half. The light abruptly dies in their eyes, and the top half of their body topples to the ground with a wet thump.

Abruptly, a raging fire bursts within you, and you grit your teeth, ignoring the bile rising in your throat from the stench, and you leap forward, ready to vanquish this monster that killed your fellow soldier.

Hoshina Soshiro

The light scorched your retinas when you opened your eyes.

So you did the logical thing and closed them again.

But the quick glimpse told you what you needed to know.

You were in the hospital.

The beeping of the heart monitor didn’t take long to start driving you up the wall, and part of you was tempted to try and turn it off.

But you knew you were in no condition to do anything but lay there.

It was then that the door opened, and someone swept in with the force of a hurricane.

“How are they?”

Soshiro.

He sounded upset, which was odd for him. In all your years of being together, you could count on one hand the amount of times he had been upset around you.

“Same as yesterday. There was a blip in their heart rate a moment ago, but it’s back to normal again.” Someone said—a doctor or nurse, maybe?—and you felt someone adjust something attached to your arm. Perhaps it was an IV?

The medical personnel left, leaving you alone with your fiancé. You immediately felt his hand in yours as he sat at your side. His hands were calloused, as were yours, but you could practically feel the grime from the battle.

Had he not showered since the battle?

How long had it been anyway?

“Y’know, I really wished you’d wake up… So I can both reprimand and congratulate you.” Soshiro said with a breathy laugh. His hand squeezed slightly, tangling his fingers with yours, and you felt him press his mouth against your knuckles.

You fought to open your eyes again. This time, it felt as if your eyelids weighed a million pounds. They wouldn’t cooperate. You couldn’t get your body to do anything you wanted.

Until… Your eyelashes fluttered.

A gasp. Your name being exhaled on a breath. Like a wish on the wind. Soshiro’s hand tightened again around yours.

And then light.

Narumi Gen

(He still doesn't get a gif. I still don't like his anime design)

How were you alive?

At least, you assumed you were alive.

You were pretty sure the afterlife didn’t have this damned beeping all the time.

There were two types of beeping.

The first kind, which you knew well, was the beeping of Gen’s handheld gaming device.

And the second? You also were very familiar with it—the beeping of hospital machines.

“I know you’re awake.” Yup. That was Gen. So, you agonizingly peeled your eyelids open and tried to look over to the side.

Keyword being tried.

There was a neckbrace around your neck restricting your movement. So you settled with groping with your free hand that didn’t have an IV in the back of it for Gen’s hand. He obliged you and took it, pausing his game and setting it aside to focus on you.

You could tell without even looking at him that he was upset. You told him as much, and he scoffed. You could see the ruffling of his hair in your periphery as he ran his free hand through the black and gray strands.

“No shit, Sherlock. You almost died. Of course, I’m mad.” He snapped, and you closed your eyes because you couldn’t do much else.

“Did I at least kill that motherfu—”

“Worry about something else for once!” Gen bit out, and your mouth shut.

The situation dawned on you as Gen started to speak, explaining what happened after supposedly watching the surveillance.

You almost died five times. Twice when fighting the number kaiju. You remembered those moments just fine. And three times, when your heart stopped those three separate times on the way to the hospital. You didn’t remember this. You remembered gutting the monster and killing it, but after that, it was just… Blank.

Had you really come that close to death?

Hearing Gen’s voice crack, something that never happened, cracked your heart, and you squeezed his hand.

“I’m sorry.” You croaked and heard him sigh.

“Just… Don’t pull something like that again… Okay? I almost lost you.” He said softly, and you felt a tear streak your cheek.

“Promise.”

#kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 x you #kn8 x y/n #kn8 x reader #kn8 x you #hoshina x reader #hoshina x you #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro x you #narumi gen x reader #narumi gen x you #narumi x reader #narumi x you #fairy writes

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enderisin · 2 months ago

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⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

LONG RANT ABOUT EPIC!CALYPSO AHEAD

Calypso is extremely fascinating to me, because although she’s one of the characters I sympathize the most with and I strongly enjoy reading about her, if she were a real person I’m afraid she would likely end up with a one-way ticket to hell.

Now, most people in the fandom agree that she’s far from a good person. However, I do not believe she is evil incarnate, nor is she an innocent victim of her circumstances.

Now, Calypso has known one thing all her life:

She is alone.

Let me make this clear.

She is completely alone. For hundreds of years, she’s never had a conversation. Never had someone to help her. Never laughed with somebody. Never had someone smile at her. She’s never even made eye contact with anyone.

So, when someone washes up on her shore, she’s ecstatic.

This changes everything.

It’s every single one of her dreams wrapped up into one person.

After what is most likely days of fantasizing about her future life and caring for the unconscious man, he wakes up.

And says he’s married and threatens her life.

Of course, she could let him go.

But this is also her only chance.

She has no idea if she’ll ever see another person again.

Let that sink in.

She’s a goddess.

She’s immortal.

She could be alone for the rest of eternity until time itself ends.

Of course she's desperate for him to stay.

Now, is any of that an excuse for what she did? Of course not.

But in letting him go, she would be sacrificing her happiness for all of eternity.

I’ll leave it up to the reader to decide what you personally would choose in that situation.

Now, fast forward seven years. In epic specifically, we have no idea how she treated him.

She could have kept him in a cage, or she could have given him everything he’s ever wanted and we would have no idea.

However, we do know two very important things that we learn from Love in paradise.

1. Odysseus is not happy and actively begs to go home.

2. Calypso is doing everything in her power to keep him there.

Even in the ending part of love in paradise where Odysseus is on the cliff (which I personally believe is when we truly see things from Odysseus’s perspective, but that’s a discussion for another time), Calypso is calmly trying to get him to stay.

And how does she do that?

By literally and figuratively taking the place of everyone he’s ever loved in his life.

Now, this is a horrific thing to try and do. Hopefully I don’t need to explain why knowingly isolating someone and using their trauma as a tool to get them to love you is not a good thing.

But I personally believe Calypso thought she was doing the right thing.

Why? Because from her perspective, she loves him. She is his support system.

In other words, she and her love is the paradise he needs to come back to.

And if she has to play dirty to get him to come back, so be it.

in Not sorry for loving you, many are confused on whether or not calypso is genuinely apologizing or simply manipulating him.

I believe it’s both.

She likely feels some level of guilt for what she put odysseus through. She knows that she is selfish. But from her perspective, she had no other choice if she wanted to keep her sanity intact.

And maybe some part of her doesn’t want to face the consequences of her actions no matter how fair she knows they are.

So in the same breath as her apology, she throws out a last ditch effort to guilt him into staying.

She tells her tale. She pours her heart out. She gives him everything she has.

But it’s not enough.

In the same song, Odysseus says he loves her, “But not in the way [she] wants him too.”

This interests me greatly. After all, just one song ago he was clearly unhappy being with her. Is he lying? Did Calypso somehow get him to love her in just one song? Is he being manipulated?

I personally believe he’s telling the truth.

He does love her.

But instead of taking the obvious interpretation of the line that he only loves her platonically, I believe this means he loves her because she is all he has.

He’s lonely, and he hasn’t seen his wife in nearly 20 years. If he completely avoided calypso, he would be just like she was before he came.

Alone.

So if Odysseus began to feel something besides hatred when he looked at his captor, is he really to blame?

Does prometheus occasionally to look forward to the eagle’s visits, for it means that for a brief moment he is not abandoned?

I guess you could call it Stockholm syndrome, what I’m describing.

But Odysseus did not have such words to describe the way he felt.

He only knew that as Calypso’s tears mixed with the ocean he was about to sail on, he forced aside the part of him that wished to dry them.

#epic the musical #epic the vengeance saga #epic the wisdom saga #calypso #odysseus

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ghoulreaper38 · 2 months ago

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the ghouls + giving you love bites.

pairings : the ghoul (cooper howard) x fem!reader | john hancock x fem!reader.

warnings : reader is afab—no descriptions given BUT babe, doll(face), sweetheart, pretty(girl), hun, & sunshine are all used as nicknames ! / mild mature content / suggestive themes / profanity / fondling / hickeys-love bites / slight possessive behavior / mild jealousy / chem use / alcohol use / smoking / very mild choking / ghoul discrimination.

a/n—my first time posting ever yay & writing for this fandom so please keep that in mind. i did my best but things may be ooc or incorrect. regardless, happy reading❕🤍

The Ghoul (Cooper Howard) 1.7k words

You are much too beautiful for this wasteland. Cooper tries over and over again to reassure himself that you are his and only his, but he notices every single unwanted stare you garner from practically everywhere you go. It’s so bad now that he won’t let you go anywhere unless he’s right by your side.

And you, his vaultie, bless that pretty little soul of yours… you don’t seem bothered by his behavior at all. You happily let him trail after you like a guard dog that’ll bite at anyone who tries to come your way. And my, oh, my, how scary he is…

Cooper comes back from taking the clingy ol’ dog for a morning walk to find you rummaging around inside the desolate and dilapidated shack the two of you were staying in, for a night or two at least. You’ve got your backpack on and you’re loading up one of your 10mm pistols from where you’re crouched on the ground by a coffee table with a missing leg.

“Where’re you supposed to be heading off to so early, little morning bird,” Cooper asks as he raises an eyebrow at you, almost accusatory.

You get the pistol loaded and pack it into the holster on your waist as you stand from your crouched position to meet his gaze.

“Just into the small town a bit west from here. I want to see if I can stock up on some medicine or food while we’re passing through. And, the earlier I get over there, the sooner I’ll be back here,” you explain as you double check you’ve got your dagger, pip-boy, and stash of caps on you.

“Huh.” The ghoul clicks his tongue as he gives you a brief once-over.

You head for the door and attempt to walk past him to start your journey for the day, but he immediately shakes his head and pulls you back by your hips until you’re trapped against him.

“Don’t think so, doll. You ain’t goin’ nowhere like that,” he lowly says as he leans down until his breath brushes over your exposed neck. You shiver against him but do your best to grab his wandering hands and hold them in place. Is he really mad about you wearing a tank top right now?

“Like what?” you frown and try to catch his gaze over your shoulder. “We’re basically living in a heatwave out here, I’m not layering up,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes.

“I don’t give a damn what you’re wearing, sweetheart. I’m well aware you’re all mine,” the ghoul says with a smug smile. He easily frees one of his hands from your hold and trails it all the way up until it comes to rest right against your throat. “Problem is, the fuckers out there don’t,” he practically growls as his fingers tighten just enough to be threatening against your skin. “So how ‘bout we write this in bold, huh? Make sure they can’t possibly miss that you’re mine, all mine,” he says as he leans down and presses his scarred lips against your neck.

Your body tingles as he moves his hands lower, brushing them both up under the hem of your shirt so they can travel over your stomach. His touch is so light, it tickles, and his lips are unforgiving where they brush against your throat. He leaves love bites scattered all over your neck, licking over the particularly brutal ones to soothe the puffy redness his bites leave behind. It’s a mix of pleasure and pain and you can’t help but moan as he dresses your throat up with yet another mark, poking at it teasingly just to get a reaction out of you.

Finally, after making sure he’s marked you well enough, he pulls back and steps away from you. You breathe in deeply and place a hand over your neck as your body comes down from the high that this ghoul always manages to give you, with nearly no effort at all. Sometimes, just a simple look in your direction has you weak in the knees and ready for whatever he’s willing to give you. It’d be more embarrassing to dwell on it if you didn’t find it so attractive.

“There now, that’ll do it,” Cooper says with a smirk as he scans all over your neck to see his work. You can tell he’s proud of himself by the way he runs his tongue over his lower lip subconsciously. It’s comforting to know that he’s just as intoxicated by you as you are by him.

“You done now, cowboy?” you tease as you fuss with your shirt to make sure it’s nicely straightened out.

“Just about,” he drawls as he steps into your space and grips your chin between his fingers. “You ready to go show the world you’re mine? Let a greedy old ghoul like me tie you down?” Cooper asks, but he captures your lips into a kiss before you can answer. His tongue glides along your own as he claims you once more just before you go.

When he finally breaks apart from you, he goes straight to throwing his bandolier on and readjusting his hat. He glances over at you once with that sly expression of his, as he cocks his head towards the door.

“You comin’, dollface?”

You smile your own little smile and nod your head, following him out of the building.

The town is nice for what it is. Not too many of the buildings seem to be as torn through as some others the two of you have encountered while traveling together. You manage to find most of the supplies on your list, and even a few extra lucky ones you hadn’t accounted for. It’s a win in your book.

The only trouble you wind up running into comes from an older group of gentlemen who’re leaned up against an old brick building down one of the streets the ghoul leads you through. They seem to be taking a smoke break outside of an old diner that’s just finding its legs here in the seemingly re-evolving town.

“The fuck’s that thing doing around here?” one of the men with a rather large cigar jeers as he takes one look at Cooper walking beside you.

Cooper doesn’t give any reaction, he only walks more surely of himself. It’s like the negative comments from them give him more confidence.

“Thought these damn ghouls would stay away from here after what happened to the last group that tried us,” one of the men sighs as he takes a long drag from his cigarette and gives the ghoul a cold glare. “Hell, I’d even take them fuckin’ mantises that crawled through here again over more of these freaks,” he continues with an animated shrug.

You try your best to ignore their harsh comments and instead follow Cooper’s lead, but one of them nearly steps in your way trying to gain your attention as you go to pass them.

“Whoa there, what’s a babe like you doing traveling around with that fuckin’ thing?” he asks as he looks between you two in disgust. “You better let this one here go, you rad-infested freak. They ain’t your prisoner no more,” the guy says darkly as he picks up a broken glass bottle and watches the ghoul with a close eye.

Cooper halts in his steps and clicks his tongue, watching the man next to you with an unimpressed look.

“You must be one dumb motherfucker if you haven’t noticed that this ‘babe’ ain’t a prisoner to me at all,” he chuckles darkly. “Now I suggest you put that there bottle down and take a closer look for yourself,” Cooper bites as he slides his gun out from its holster lazily. He’s not yet threatening the man, but rather, warning him.

“Oh, what the fuck,” one of the men behind the one with the broken bottle gasps as he must notice the marks on your neck. The other guy behind him joins and they both quickly shake their heads, seemingly deciding that this battle isn’t worth it. “Nah, I’m out, that fucked shit in’t none of my business at all,” the other agrees as they retreat back to inside the building.

“Guess that just leaves you, don’t it?” Cooper smirks as he licks his lips, taking a step closer to you, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of the ignorant man. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and you give him a sweet kiss on the cheek, more than happy to play this little game with him. You know he loves the thrill, loves to show you off to the world.

“What… what the hell is goin’ on here?!” the man yells, waving the broken bottle around wildly as he tries to understand what exactly is unfolding before him.

“Well, let’s see…” Cooper sighs. “You were threatening to take my lover from me, ain’t that right? Still wanna try your hand at that now, big man?” Cooper practically seethes as he cocks his gun, the sound ringing loudly between the three of you.

“Oh, you’re fucked! Both of you!” the guy shouts as he drops the bottle and his cigarette, turning tale and running away down an old dingy alleyway.

You cover your mouth with your hand as a laugh slips past your lips. You can’t help yourself after watching such a comical display. He’s lucky to have survived, and you’re proud of how generous the ghoul’s become just for you.

“That’s some funny shit right there,” Cooper chuckles with that deep, sweet laugh of his. Your heart soars at the sound of it.

“It’s always so entertaining to see how they’ll react. This time was much cleaner than last,” you say with a relieved sigh, pulling Cooper into a warm hug. He immediately wraps his arms around you tightly as he kisses your forehead and smiles down at you. One of his rare genuine ones that gets your face all warm.

“I’d do anything for you, doll. I hate that you’ve gotta put up with so much bullshit just for walking with someone like me, but I can promise you that I’ll always give you a whole lot more than any of these other fuckers could ever dream up. Got it?” he asks as he pulls you even closer, resting his chin on top of your head.

With your face nuzzled against his neck, you nod your head and squeeze him back comfortingly. “Got it,” you promise with a genuine smile of your own.

John Hancock 1.4k words

a/n let’s pretend regular ‘ol jet would have the same effect on ghouls as it does humans for this one!

Hancock loves to see you dancing and freely enjoying yourself in his club, but he absolutely loathes to see how many watchers you attract with the striking way you sway your hips along to the music. You dance under the lights and that stunning jewelry you love shines so perfectly against your skin, it’s entrancing to any onlooker. Hancock wishes he was the only onlooker.

“Hancock, and of course his stunning plus one, are you guys joining us for a couple of rounds of drinks tonight?” Magnolia asks as she and her company, Emogene, wave you both over to their table only a few steps away.

Hancock’s unusually quiet tonight as he offers only cold glares and noncommittal laughter to anyone who tries to break the barrier he’s suddenly put up for the evening. You’ve attempted to figure out why, of course, but he won’t budge at all, just gesturing for you to keep enjoying yourself instead of worrying over him. So, you suppose that’s alright for now, everyone needs a little space sometimes, right?

“Of course, we’d love to! As long as you’re okay with it,” you say as you glance at Hancock who’s standing beside you with his arms crossed.

“Yeah, sure, do whatever you want. You know I’ll follow you anywhere, hun,” he rasps as he follows you to the table with the two other women.

The truth is, Hancock cannot control himself like this. Yeah, yeah, he could probably slow down with the chems to avoid it, but where’s the fun in that? Instead, he slides into the booth beside you and takes a long swig of his stiff drink, and taps his leg subconsciously as he tries to focus less on you and more on the conversation at hand.

“—It’s always a beautiful song if you’re singing it,” you say as you smile at Magnolia kindly, taking a small sip out of your own glass. The two of you are constantly flattering each other, it’s a sign of your strong and healthy friendship, you believe.

“Well, I could certainly say the same for you, hm? Your dancing is so spectacular each time, it’s a shame only the third rail gets to witness it,” she tuts as she sends a knowing glare in Hancock’s direction.

You laugh sweetly and thank her while you rest a hand on Hancock’s knee, hoping to calm him. You’ve never seen him so jittery on jet before, but you hadn’t noticed him take anything else.

Emogene nods easily, “I have to agree myself. Magnolia told me your dancing was good, but seeing it with my own eyes tonight was a complete surprise even so. You’re talented in that regard for sure,” she compliments, and then she snorts, gesturing to the room around you. “And, I mean, clearly you have plenty of admirers who feel the same way.”

…Okay, yeah, the alcohol didn’t help one bit, Hancock decides.

Before you can reply, Hancock abruptly sits up straighter and grabs your hand.

“You’ll have to excuse us for a moment, I forgot I needed to speak to my pretty girl here in private for just a sec,” he says as he begins pulling you along with him out of the booth.

“Oh dear, just be gentle, you silly ghoul,” Magnolia sighs as she lights a cigarette for herself and takes a long drag. Emogene looks at Hancock like he’s a crazy man, but she just sips on her drink and leaves the two of you be.

You’re shocked by how clumsily Hancock’s pulling you along with him, he’s seemingly pent up with so much energy that he’s not entirely thinking straight. But alas, you go along with him anyways. He said he needed to talk, right? You always have time for him.

He pulls you along until you reach the VIP room, and thankfully it’s empty at the moment. He shuts the door and then he’s immediately attaching himself to you.

“Ah, um, Hancock? What’s wrong?” you attempt to ask, but it’s hard to focus when he’s wrapping you up in his warm embrace, breathing in your intoxicating scent.

“I… I just need ‘ta feel you right now. Like, genuinely feel you in my arms,” he breathes as he nuzzles his face into your neck.

“Okay… are you alright? What’d you take?” you ask as you wrap your arms around him in return, letting him soak up all your body heat.

“Just some jet, but, I can’t stand the way those other people were watching you. I just get this insane urge to keep you all to myself, make ‘em all jealous because you picked me, not any of those shitty guys,” he growls as he pulls back just enough so he can give you a soft kiss on your lips. Your gleaming eyes staring into his has his heartbeat going wild. He loves you way too much to be good for him.

You smile at his words and pull him closer, kissing his left cheek, then right, then his nose, and lastly, his scarred lips that always manage to give you butterflies when they collide with yours. And just like always, he fits so perfectly against you, slipping his tongue further into your mouth until you’re moaning against his lips. His sly hands traveling further and further down until he grips your ass playfully, pulling you flush against him.

You squeak cutely which only makes him want to hear you more. He tilts your chin up with his gloved fingers so he has better access to your neck, and then he nibbles against your smooth skin, leaving traces of him over every spot he touches. After ensuring you’ve got three love bites too many, he nips at your earlobe playfully before pulling away, chuckling at your cute little noises as he does.

He breathes deeply as he completely backs away from you, absorbing how pretty you look with your lips swollen and face flushed.

“Alright, gotta stop myself there for now, sunshine. You’re just too tempting for me,” he says as chews on his lip subconsciously while running his eyes over your body. “If you don’t wanna leave our dear old friends hanging then we’d better get back out there soon,” he reminds.

You nod your head and follow him to the door. He leads the two of you back to the booth from before, where Magnolia and Emogene have patiently waited, both having finished a drink or two in the time you and Hancock were gone.

“Welcome back, lovebirds. I see you two had some fun,” Magnolia slyly smiles, bring her eyes from your face to your neck with a tantalizing laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, I take full responsibility,” Hancock says as he raises his hands in surrender. “I hit too much jet before, and when she dances like that in slow motion, well, can’t blame a guy for getting a tad bit overzealous,” he grins with those bright and happy eyes, clearly proud of himself.

You shake your head at his antics but still lean your body closer to him, and he immediately wraps an arm around you, keeping you warm and safe right beside him.

“It does seem to have worked out in your favor though, I will say,” Magnolia smiles. “The eyes seem to have wandered back to where they came from,” she again gestures to the room around you, and you notice how the other men are very obviously trying their hardest not to give any inappropriate looks to the mayor’s girl. Against your better judgement, it leaves a fuzzy feeling in your chest.

“My savior,” you tease as you snuggle into Hancock’s side with a silly smile.

Emogene says something that catches Magnolia’s attention, and the two of them delve into a conversation. Hancock kisses your head and pulls you just a bit closer, until one of your legs rests above his own.

“Dance for me like that again, sunshine, and I might just have to get you all pretty on your knees for me. But don’t you worry, hun, I’ll go slow,” he whispers into your ear. You feel your face heat up instantly at his sudden words but he only chuckles in response, giving you a soft kiss on the cheek before he pulls away.

He calls over Whitechapel Charlie and asks for a round of shots for the table, and you graciously take the one he offers to you, hoping that maybe that will be able to calm your sudden longing for the enticing man beside you.

When Hancock catches your eye as he expertly downs his shot, a devious smile on his lips, you realize you’re already in too deep.

#the ghoul x reader #fallout x reader #fallout 4 x reader #john hancock x reader #hancock x reader #the ghoul x female reader #hancock x female reader

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quinnnfabrgay-writes · 7 days ago

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Santa's Little Helpers pt. i

pairing: dieter x fat f!reader x ezra (eventually)

summary: Dieter gets you two a gig as Santa's Little Helpers at the mall in town.

wc: 1.8k

tags/warnings: established fwb (dieter x reader), mentions of being overstimulated (and not in the fun and sexy way), screaming children mentioned, Michael Buble mention (apologies to those that enjoy his music lol), the dialogue is cheesy as hell (and i enjoy the hell out of it)

a/n: Happy (belated) Christmas Lo, @covetyou ! It is I, your @dieterbravobrainrotclub Secret Santa! I'm so sorry this is after actual Christmas, but I still hope it brings you some cheer. And I'm so sorry that I have to split it into two parts, I refuse to get rid of the smut, but that part's not quite finished yet, and I didn't want to make you wait any longer without at least something.Thank you for answering my many asks, Ezra and Dieter are a FILTHY pair together and I wanted to make sure they didn't go too overboard and ick you out, lol. Not gonna lie, I was VERY intimidated when I got your name, I absolutely love every single thing you write, so I hope this can bring you even a fraction of the amount of joy you bring to this fandom!

There was a very different direction I was going to go with this, but then I remembered the "Previously Unaired Christmas" episode of Glee existed, and then this mess was born. But instead of Sexy Santa getting them drunk and robbing them, they all bone down freaknasty holiday style. Unfortunately, said boning takes place in pt. ii.

A major shoutout to @perotovar for encouraging my cheesy and filthy inclinations; another shoutout to @morallyinept for her Ezra One Stop Shop post, I know I definitely need to spend more time with Ezra to really understand him, but this was a MASSIVE help when tackling this incredibly intimidating character; and a HUGE thank you to @sp00kymulderr for not only putting this event together, but also for creating such a fun and accepting environment for us all to share.

Divider credit: @saradika-graphics

"Dieter… what the ever loving fuck have you gotten us into now?"

You stare bewilderingly at your best friend and roommate before you, a pile of red and green fabric clutched in his arms, golden jingle bells stitched onto the itchy looking fabric. Dieter simply shrugs his shoulders, a dopey grin on his face.

"I got us a gig!"

You continue to stare incredulously as he retreats back towards your shared bedroom, no further explanation given as if it was the most ordinary and obvious thing in the world. Even in the many years you have known Dieter, growing up together and running off to Hollywood to pursue your shared dreams, he still finds ways to leave you absolutely flummoxed.

His voice echoes from down the hall, "come on and get ready or we're going to be late!"

You roll your eyes and huff as you begrudgingly make your way to the bedroom. A gig is a gig, right?

You could kill Dieter with your own two hands right now and you would still need an outlet for the frustration coursing through you.

Shrieks and cries of children mix with the drone of too many people carrying on in their own conversations, the irritating tinny sound of Christmas songs playing over the mall's sound system paired with the scratchy, clingy fabric of what turned out to be an elf costume Dieter had brought home are all combining into the perfect recipe for an overstimulated meltdown on your end.

You fidget with the neckline of your costume, your tits threatening to pop out every time you take too deep of a breath. The way the fabric clings to your curves isn't necessarily uncomfortable, but it's obvious it wasn't intended to fit this way. The dress supplied to you was clearly made for someone smaller, but Dieter swore up and down that was the biggest size they had. You would have believed him if it weren't for the fact that every time you look over at him, you find his eyes glued to your chest, a wry smirk at home on his lips.

If you weren't so goddamn annoyed you might've been able to appreciate that, in fact, you do look smokin' hot in this ridiculous polyester get-up. But as the minutes tick on and on, the Santa appointed to your shift, some guy named Gary, still nowhere in sight, you're one more Michael Buble rendition of any Christmas song away from throwing a tantrum that could rival a toddler's. And there are a few throwing spectacular fits at the moment while waiting in line.

You lean over in Dieter's direction, a fake cheerful smile plastered across your face in hopes of not showing your annoyance as you grumble under your breath, "where the fuck is this guy?"

"HO HO HO!"

You and Dieter both whip around in the direction of the outburst, watching as who you assume to be Gary dressed as Santa jogs his way over to the fake North Pole set up in the middle of the mall.

He waves to the crowd as children start cheering and screeching choruses of Santa, it's Santa, hi Santa in hopes of getting his attention.

"I must apologize, sorry to keep you all waiting! There was a small hiccup at the toy factory that Santa had to attend to," he bellows joyfully, a soft twang to his words barely concealed. Some of the parents laugh along, just happy that they're that much closer to getting this over with, "but that's no excuse, so Santa here has brought you some extra special goodies!"

More cheers and echoes of excitement erupt from the children in line as he raises a red felt bag filled to the brim with games and toys. You sneak a look over at Dieter, a mirrored expression of uneasiness staring back at you as the crowd of over ecstatic tots starts to get more rambunctious.

But just when you're afraid you're about to have a panic attack and pass out dressed as Santa's #1 slutty elf mistress in the middle of a mall, the Santa raises a single gloved hand, his left palm radiating an air of authority. You stare in awe as the shrieks and screams dwindle into quiet excited giggles. A knowing and satisfied smirk peeks out from under the full fake beard, a quiet chuckle escapes his lips before he turns towards the plush red velvet chair that's been sitting in waiting for his arrival.

It's hard to swallow as you discreetly press your thighs together, not sure you want to even try and get into why that one simple action was so. damn. hot.

The quiet confidence and inherent authority in which he moved, the way he was able to tame a crowd with a few sweet words and the wave of his hand.

And there you were absolutely floored.

He takes a seat, quickly slapping his knees before reaching his hands out and addressing everyone.

"Alright now, who's first?"

Time must have somehow sped up, because in no time at all the last child in line was receiving her gift from Santa's bag, squealing an enthusiastic thank you thank you thank you! before launching herself at him and giving Santa a big hug, her parents apologizing as they try to coax her off of him.

As the family starts walking away, the girl chatting excitedly over her new gift, Santa stands and turns towards you and Dieter, clapping his hands before giving you two a giant smile.

"Thank you both for sticking around, Gary had to drop out last minute. I didn't get the call to come fill in until about 20 minutes before I showed up. Had to change into the suit before I even got in the car."

You arch an eyebrow, leaning your head to the side in thought before asking, "But what about the toys? How were you able to scrounge those up last minute? We thought this was just supposed to be pictures with Santa."

He rubs the back of his neck as he drops his gaze, not making any eye contact as he softly chuckles, a blush creeping up his face giving him those picture perfect red rosy cheeks mostly associated with Santa.

"I uh… I own the toy store just down the street, figured it was the least I could do knowing how long these people must have been waiting in line."

You just stare in silence, unable to comprehend just how good this mysterious man is. From beside you, all you hear is Dieter whispering in amazement, "you really are Santa."

The man just chuckles again, shaking his head softly before motioning to the fake Santa's Workshop behind him "If you don't mind I'm going to dip into there real quick and make a quick call, let Gary know everything got taken care of."

Not even one second after the door closes, you and Dieter are turning to each other, eyes wide, both of your faces scrunched in poor attempts at hiding your smiles and giggles as you both freak out over who you have now dubbed as Sexy Santa.

"Oh my god!" you whisper scream.

"Okay, so you were feelin' it too? I was so afraid that I had finally gone too far lusting after a mall Santa."

You both keep your voices low, whispering almost conspiratorially over your shared sudden crush.

"Okay, okay, shhh," you whisper and laugh, taking Dieter by the shoulders, forcing him to keep still and focus on you. "Okay, so I know this is a little out there, even for us, but we don't know this guy - it's not like we're going to run into him on a daily basis, so I say we shoot our shot. Wanna see if he wants to come home with us?"

"You saucy little minx," Dieter teases. "Usually I'm the one with the bad ideas."

You simply shrug, a cheeky grin etched across your face, "I'm owed a couple of my own, aren't I?"

Before you can think too hard on it and start double guessing yourself, you skip up to the door, knocking as the nerves already start threatening to creep in.

A muffled come in echoes from inside.

Neither you nor Dieter were quite ready for the Adonis that was standing in front of you. The Santa jacket shed away, along with the hat, gloves, and beard, leaving the mystery man in a tight white undershirt, the felt pants attached to red suspenders still strapped around his shoulders. His left bicep testing the barriers of how much a sleeve can be stretched, his golden skin littered with random freckles, or at least from what little you can see. A small tuft of blonde hair standing out amongst the rest of his dark brown tresses piques your interest.

Something glinting under the lights catches your eye, bringing your attention to his right side, and in turn bringing your attention to his right arm which seemed to be made of… metal?

You quickly avert your gaze back up, hoping that you weren't caught staring, but you weren't quick enough. Your eyes meeting his own, a smile still on his face.

"I usually prefer to go without it," he shrugs, chuckling before continuing, "but I didn't really want to answer questions as to why Santa had one arm all of a sudden."

Both you and Dieter quietly giggle, both of you clearly charmed by his apparent altruistic proclivities.

"So you really are just some nice guy, huh?" Dieter sounds from beside you. Alright, I guess we're trying to butter him up first, not a bad plan.

In the blink of an eye, the atmosphere in the small shed changes, thickens with a sudden and growing tension. Ezra's smile twisting into a mischevious smile as he eyes you both up and down.

"Well, I never said I was nice."

Before either of you can respond, he takes a couple of steps towards where you and Dieter stand frozen in anticipation, scratching at the scruff on his jaw, his eyes alight with what only could be described as trouble. He leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to a teasing murmur.

"You do realize the two of you don't whisper as quietly as you think you do, right?"

Oh shit.

Your heart sinks down to the bottom of your stomach, looking over at Dieter for some reassurance, but instead it only makes your nerves spike more as you can see him struggling to mask his growing embarrassment.

"I mean, the two of you don't even know my name."

Oh my god, he thinks we're just a couple of freaks. Fair, but fuck!

"Listen, we-we're sorry you overheard that. We sh-"

He raises his left palm, quieting your rambled apologies.

"Mmm, now I didn't say that as an objection, it was just a mere observation."

You struggle to catch your breath as he drops his hand and shuffles closer, leaning forward to mumble in yours and Dieter's ear.

"I may not be the real Santa, but I have an inkling that the two of you have been real naughty this year. I'd love to show you what happens when his little elves start getting these… unsavory ideas in their little heads."

#i'm sorry it ends so abruptly #i promise there are plenty of shenanigans and tomfoolery in the next part #secret santa fic exchange #dieter bravo brainrot club #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #ezra prospect #ezra prospect fanfiction #dieter bravo au #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

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ofstarsandvibranium · 5 months ago

Text

Precious Truths: Part 13

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

A/N: hello! yes, finally, an update! thank you to all of you who were patiently waiting for this. tbh the Benophie announcement gave me a bit of a spark of motivation to finish this chapter! enjoy!

Series Masterlist

My dearest Y/N,

I am not sure what else to say other than I am sorry. I am sorry for making you feel as though you meant nothing to me. I must admit, due to my own self-induced heartbreak, I refused to read your letters previously. However, you will not find me doing that again. I have missed your friendship dearly. It is my own fault for doing this to us. I will never do that to you again, I promise.

Always feel free to write to me. You will receive a response from me, now and always.

Yours,

Benedict

You read the short letter over and over again. You're in a bit of disbelief, yet you're overjoyed. You kept your expectations low after sending that letter to Benedict. However, you're pleasantly surprised that not only has he written back, but he desires to renew your friendship once more.

You immediately go to your writing desk and begin to write a reply.

You spend some time writing everything down, how grateful you are for Ben, how you've been spending your days, as well as your moments of grief.

James' parents have provided good company to you. Ever since meeting you, that have been so kind and loving. They remind you of how your parents used to be prior to your mother's passing.

In your letter, your relay to Benedict how you've been trying to write poetry to help you process and cope James' passing, but nothing has come from these attempts.

Admittedly, Benedict was your muse for so long. After he left, James became your muse. Now he's gone. You don't want to think about Benedict potentially taking up the place as your muse again. A part of you feels as though that would be a betrayal to James, however, your muse was originally Benedict...

It's fine. You won't worry about it too much right now. You'll just take things day by day.

After you finish your letter, you fold and seal it. Calling upon a footman, you ask him to send it to Benedict and the young man leaves promptly.

__________________________

Dear Benedict,

I may be going stir-crazy here. Mama and papa have been very loving and supportive, however, I feel that, even in this large estate, I cannot get away.

I've been riding a lot more than usual now just to get out. I know, it is shocking to me as well since I was never fond of it. However, now I find myself wanting to ride every single day just to be out and about.

Maybe I should discuss with mama and papa if I can start accepting guests again. For I am not sure how much longer I can take this.

Anyway, I hope you are well. It has been some time since we last exchanged letters. I am sure you have been busy with the new exhibit coming up. I hope it is successful. Everyone will be able to see just how talented you are.

I am so proud of you and what you have achieved, Ben. Never forget that.

Yours,

Y/N

Benedict sighs, reading over your letter. He is visiting his family, taking break from working on his last painting for the exhibition.

"What ails you, brother?" Eloise asks as she sits beside him.

"Would it be improper if I were to visit Y/N soon?" he asks her with confliction written on his face.

"Why would it be improper? You two are friends again, yes?" Eloise asks confused.

He lets out a deep breath before explaining, "After the death of a spouse, it's customary to mourn them for a year before accepting guests and taking part is society again. It's only been sixth months."

Eloise scoffs, "Benedict, you know that I am the last person to tell you of what you should or should not do in terms of societal rules."

"Of course," he says with a roll of his eyes.

"What is it that you really want to ask me?"

Benedict remains silent, contemplating on how he should ask his sister.

The truth is, Benedict has felt whole again. Having you back in his life has brought so much happiness, familiarity, and comfort that he's been seeking for the past few years.

It's clear to him that his love for you will never seize. You will always remain a part of him and he will always hold you in a special place in his heart. However, if he takes this step to be close to you again, will it end in heartbreak once more? He doesn't want to think of such an outcome, but there's always a possibility. No. Nonsense. He can't think about that.

Benedict may love you, but you are first and foremost his best friend. Therefore, any feelings he has of you must be cast aside. Being your friend, in your company, speaking with you, being there for you, that is the priority. Benedict's feelings be damned. He will not make the same idiotic mistakes he made before. He's wiser and stronger now.

The relationship you two share is much more important, now that ever.

Benedict turns to Eloise and smiles, "I think I'll alright, Eloise," he stands with confidence.

His sister looks at him with uncertainty, "Are you sure? You're not going to do anything stupid again, are you?"

He shakes his head, "No. I promise, I am better. I will be better for Y/N."

"If you're sure," Eloise says before Benedict exits the sitting room.

______________________

The wind is blowing through your hair as you ride through the forest. It is midday and you have a lot of energy. James' horse, now yours, Bluebell, is fast and agile. She leaps over bushes and fallen tree trunks with ease.

You and Bluebell have gotten quite close these past few months. She's been able to grant you the freedom you've been aching for.

The first three months after James' passing were hard. Now six months later, you've finally accepted his death. It was unexpected and there was nothing you could do to help. You had loved him dearly and he accepted and understood you like very few have.

You are grateful for the short time you had with him, but now you'd like to slowly move on with your life.

You've been trying to get back into writing. Very few pieces have come out well. The rest thrown into the fireplace, burning to ash so you wouldn't have to see it again.

You've come to realize that the few works that have been kept, you've come up with while riding. Another reason why you have gone out a lot more. You're trying to find that spark again that you once had before James' passing.

You stop at a small creek flowing through the Montclair land. You dismount Bluebell and guide her to the water so she may quench her thirst and rest a bit. You sit by the creek, watching as the water flows by. You listen to the birds chirping, the trees swaying in the wind.

You think about how you've been feeling the past six months. How only in the late hours of the night is when you experienced the heart ache of James' passing, how you felt knowing you will no longer experience his freeing and doting love.

You pull out your journal from your satchel and begin to write:

Deep in the shadows where heartache grew

Mourning hearts match skies of grey

A love once bright as morning dew

Now drifted gone as night to day

The halls keep our memories

Our laughter and tears

Walking among those walls, memories sunken

deep within the seas

It's short yet conveys the feelings you want it too. You don't hate it, but it may need some work. So you keep it in your journal and stand. Some time has passed for Bluebell to catch a break. You mount her once more and head back to the estate in more of a trot rather than a flying gallop.

When you arrive back, you see Clarissa waiting for you.

"Something the matter?"

She gives you a small smile, "I know Jean Louis and myself have informed you of the mourning customs, however, it has been brought to our attention that sometimes one does not need twelve months to mourn the loss of her husband."

"Mother?" you ask her confused.

"I just know that you have always been more of a free spirited woman, which is why James was so drawn to you. I also know that you did love him dearly and I will not be upset that you shorten your mourning period. You wanted to be free from societal standards from the very beginning, therefore, we will allow you to start accepting guests back at this home. You are also free to go back to yours and James' home in London."

You're not sure why your mother-in-law is saying all of this, "I-Thank you, mama. I do appreciate all of that, however, I must admit I am confused why you are mentioning this."

"I received a letter from Mister Benedict Bridgerton. He was requesting to see you."

Your eyes widen in surprise, "I assure you, I didn't ask him to do that. I was planning on asking you myself."

Your mother-in-law chuckles, "Yes, well, it seems Mister Bridgerton beat you to it."

You sigh, "So it seems."

"Everyone mourns differently, cheri, we understand that you would also like to be in the company of others during this time. Mister Bridgerton is a close friend of yours, yes?"

You nod, "He is. I'll make sure we can be seen and-"

Clarissa chuckles, "You don't have to worry about those things here, cheri. I trust you. I will write back to Mister Bridgerton right now."

You curtsey, "Thank you, mama. As usual, your kindness is greatly appreciated."

The older woman sighs, walking up to you and cupping your face, "You never have to thank me for kindness. It is a mother's duty to listen and understand her children. Although you are not my blood, you are my daughter just the same."

Her words brings tears to your eyes. She reminds you so much of your own mother, it hurts a little. To know that your own mother can't be here with you during this time. You're sure she would have provided a lot of her wisdom and advice. Nonetheless, you are grateful to now call Madame Montclair as your own mother.

"Thank you, again."

"Of course," she kisses your cheek, "Best wash up before lunch, yes?"

"Right. Excuse me," you pick up your skirt and rush back into the house to have a quick bath.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine #f!reader #female!reader

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forasecondtherewedwon · 6 months ago

Note

Guildford and Jane are hiding out in an inn. Sexy times ensue.

These Days Forth

Fandom: My Lady Jane Pairing: Jane x Guildford Rating: E Word Count: 1769

Summary: Necessity compels Jane and Guildford to take refuge at an inn far from London (and Mary). Without Jane's crown and Guildford's illusory riches, they present themselves as no more than what they are: newlyweds on their honeymoon.

Of course, the moment Jane says they must go back, her impulsiveness threatens to effect her (and Guildford's with her) swift recapture by Mary's waiting grasp. She forces herself to hold off, to remember what she told Edward; returning unprepared would achieve nothing. Everyone she knows, and many people she doesn't, just risked life and limb to enable their freedom. That is an incredible gift. She must not flout the giving of it.

They pass a day and then a night out of doors. At first, the extreme unconstraint of their circumstances induces delirious happiness. They are alive! They are unobserved! Guildford has control of his form! Adding to their contentment are the long hours of golden sunshine and the absence of any other demands on their time that leaves them free to make lazy, luxuriating love without dreading that it will be the last time.

Yes, it's very good for a day and a night. But then it rains. They aren't completely inept in the wild, but neither of them is used to going without shelter for an extended period. Guildford brags that he knows how to hunt, but soon after explains that it was stag-hunting on horseback, and he was a child, and the stag was felled by a flintlock rifle. They do not have one of those. With her study of plants, Jane feels superior for a while, but the truth is her expertise is mainly medicinal. She possesses less knowledge of what they can eat for sustenance. After all, she had a home to return to after a romp through the woods or along the river. There was always a hot supper waiting, and she was not the one who prepared it.

They admit to one another that they are hampered by their noble birth and agree to find an inn where they can sleep, eat, and wash. Jane can still smell the bonfire smoke on their hair and clothes. Guildford doesn't complain about it, but she will erase the reminder of that recent memory if she can.

The next problem is that they don't have any money. They never really have, but they've always had their families to find ways of dealing with that, and then, of course, Jane was named Queen of England and Ireland, which sucked for several obvious reasons, but did come with a free house and life-sustaining amenities. Que sera.

For a single moment, they watch the sun glinting off their wedding bands.

"Not a chance," Jane says.

"They'd have to cut my finger off to get it," Guildford declares. "And then, they'd better kill me, because I'd still come after it."

His vehemence costs them an hour of travel time. Jane finds his devotion to her deeply attractive, and the moment he sees as much in her eyes, they're tugging one another's clothes off.

When they finally reach an inn, they're careful to be noticably useful. Guildford gentles a difficult horse outside the stables, and then Jane recommends a headache cure to a half-drunk patron that encourages him to stay and keep drinking. The establishment's proprietress assesses them, impressed, and after Jane mentions she and Guildford are a married couple who won't cause any trouble, they're offered a room.

"Newlyweds," Guildford puts in, an impish gleam in his eye.

Jane blushes at the knowing chuckle this elicits. It seems an unnecessary thing to mention, and now they're sure to be teased each time they show their faces, to have every creak of the floorboards or rattle of the shutters attributed to them: the boarders who do nothing but fuck the minute they're out of sight. She tries to figure out Guildford's plan as she climbs the stairs. Why would he say it?

It's the look on his face when they close the door to their room that explains it to her; there's no hint of suspicion. He appears comfortable here. She deduces that he said it simply because he wanted to—that he wanted to share their news, proud to announce himself as her husband. So far, this marriage hasn't been for them. They had no part in organizing it, took no joy in their vows or false consummation, and encountered immediate pitfalls and deceptions that would never have been part of their lives if not for the union. In a way, this is their honeymoon. It's certainly the first time they've been able to participate in their marriage on their own terms.

"Are you very in love with me?" Jane asks teasingly.

Guildford looks surprised, but smiles in eager satisfaction as she approaches him.

"Very," he says.

Not wanting to dirty the bed with the grime of their travels, they strip each other standing, then sink to the floor. The transit of the inn's past guests has worn the boards smooth. She and Guildford stretch out, become entangled in one another, and Jane experiences another sort of happiness. It's different from the moments of relief and fast-flaring desire at the palace, which always felt stolen, and different from their first day on the run, that irresponsible joy of two people unburdened, completely, from the lives they were living and the roles they played. This happiness feels like peace.

And it feels like planed oak, and her tired legs, and the fingertips Guildford licked before fondling between her thighs. Her back bows off the floor, but his touch goes on and on. She's never seen him so patient.

When she mounts him, he makes all the sounds she loves, so she leaves his mouth uncovered and takes him slowly. I, Jane, she thinks to the rhythm of her swaying hips. She sits up, astride him, and closes her eyes, face tilted towards the ceiling in her pleasure. I, Jane, I, Jane, take thee, Guildford, thee, Guildford, to be my wedded husband. His fingers comb lightly through the ends of her hair that brush across her back. To have, to have, and to hold, hold, hold. She takes him more shallowly, then deep once more, clenching so he groans. From this day forth. They promised, then, that it would last forever. She moves on his lap like that's still the goal.

Later, they sit on the floor and run wet cloths over one another's bodies to remove the scents of sweat, sex, and, at last, smoke. The smoke from the small fire they lit to heat the water smells quite different to what rose from the blaze intended to kill Guildford. They've left this cheerfully crackling thing burning low, though the night is warm. Guildford sweeps Jane's hair aside before washing her neck. His lips trail back and forth across her clean skin. She's lulled close to unconsciousness before he speaks.

"I think we could have done this."

Drowsy, Jane doesn't understand.

"Done what?"

"Lived like this," Guildford explains. "Simple work. Just a room to ourselves, but it's enough, don't you find?"

"You say that now," she warns. "We haven't had a chance to properly irritate one another yet since we arrived. I'm sure we'll both be wishing for palatial acres before long."

"No," he murmurs, pressing his face to her neck. "I want to be near you."

"You're exhausted," she rationalizes.

"No," he says again, but he's dropped the cloth and is now resting his head on her shoulder, arms wrapped around her from behind.

"Do you just like saying 'no' to me?"

"No," Guildford mumbles.

Jane turns slightly, jostling him from her shoulder. He gazes at her sleepily.

"We'd better go to bed." With great reluctance on both sides, they rise, and she realizes, "We've never shared a bed before. Not all night, I mean. You had better not kick. I had to share with Katherine when we were small, and she kicked like the devil."

Spying Guildford's affronted expression, Jane decides she'll provoke him while he's tired more often. There's a softness to his scowl that she finds rather charming, and his hair is mussed from leaning on her.

"I didn't kick you in my sleep when I was a horse, did I?"

"No," Jane says, smiling as she climbs into bed.

"There. Then why would I do it as a man?" He settles in beside her, spreading his arms until she's nestled against his chest. "Better come close."

"Can't kick me if I'm close," she murmurs.

"That's right, love."

—

They stay at the inn—Guildford making himself useful in the stables (where they can't believe how good he is with horses) and Jane providing medical recommendations and treatments (mostly for the aftereffects of heavy drinking)—for as long as they can. When they're alone, they sit and think and hold each other, and make plans to rejoin the world.

Though they fled far enough from London that the turmoil there isn't felt here right away, eventually, soldiers come to the inn on Mary's errand. Jane is downstairs when they arrive. Guildford, who must have seen them approaching, comes in from the stables. They force themselves not to run, but to listen. The soldiers claim to be here seeking the usurper, Jane Grey. The proprietress laughs in their faces. Queen Jane? In this inn? She thinks she would have noticed.

Oh, would you? Jane thinks archly. The majority of her subjects have never even seen her face, and therefore could not be expected to recognize her without a crown on her head. Still, her heart is beating overquick as she glances at her husband.

Thankfully, the proprietress's thorough amusement at the idea is enough to send the soldiers on their way. There are so many places Jane could still be hiding. Mary must be frantic, Jane thinks, to spare any members of her army for such a task. This could be good or bad: either Mary's suppressed the revolt so quickly that she feels confident dividing her forces, or it's going so incredibly poorly that she's desperate to execute Jane in a show of insane fury and intimidation. It's fairly difficult to tell from inside the four walls of their rented chamber.

That very night, Jane and Guildford accept that they'd better go. There are people out there who want them dead, but also people who they want to know they're still alive. Siblings and allies and friends and, ugh, fine, parents. It's a realization they can no longer postpone: ready or not, it's time to go back.

Some time later, they'll realize something else—that it may have been during those happy days that the child Jane's carrying was conceived. Perhaps that first night, on the smooth wood floor. When their fingers laced together, and Jane stroked Guildford's wedding ring.

#my writing #My Lady Jane #Jane Grey #Guildford Dudley #Jane x Guildford #My Lady Jane fic

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wolfofcelestia · 4 months ago

Note

I’ve noticed some criticism from players who played the game less then a week.

So basically complaints are :

The relationship pace is inconsistent

The mc is cringe and their dialogue choices are awful

Focuses more on fan services

Doesn’t have a good story plot

Imo I don’t get story plot complaint because we haven’t even began yet with the crazy stuff we basically in the “get to know them phase “

I feel like these really bad takes are only coming from people who don't know what otome games are. LADS has had huge exposure lately that anyone and everyone has taken a peek into the game and, if they aren't the target audience, they're gonna be loud about how this game isn't catering to them

But I feel like a big chunk of these people were drawn in by Sylus. They saw him, made their horrible takes about him, and started saying the entire game is bad due to them not understanding a single thing about Sylus's character or the game itself

>the relationship pace is inconsistent

This is just a newbie take not understanding the separation between the main story and "your" version of the boys in the cafe. Sylus's intro in the cafe was a little abrupt, I can say that, but aside from that, you'll start to see how they change when you raise their affinity levels. Of course, the people who shit on the game won't bother to play long enough to find out what the game really is about

So really, their opinions hold absolutely no weight or value here

>the MC is cringe

Honestly MC was one of the reasons why this game gave me a good first impression. It was when she threatened to leave Zayne on the road because he doubted her motorcycle driving skills. If people can't appreciate MC, they don't deserve to be in the fandom. Yeah I said it, I'm gatekeeping this game 😤

>doesn't have a good plot

This is definitely a sign of someone who tried the game out for a day or two, got stuck, then decided to yell about how shitty they think it is. The main story is time locked so it would take you about two weeks to read. But even then, the main story doesn't contain all of the story. I'm guessing people who complain about the story not being good never read any of the anecdotes or myth stories. Hell, even any of the cards

>focuses on fan service

I'm guessing that most of what they know about the game is from the fandom itself. Yes, we have a lot of thirsty fans here and we focus on what we want to do to them but... Honestly that's every fandom. And this is an otome that caters to the female gaze. If they actually learned about why we like the boys and why we thirst over them, they'll find full essays, analyses, and heartfelt love letters dedicated to the boys

But all they'll want to focus on is the boys in towels or something and complain about the game being too sexualized

Like. So we're gonna ignore all the games that cater to the male gaze huh? The moment a male character shows a bit of skin or does something suggestive, suddenly it's too sexualized? We're not in church here. God forbid women would want sexual fantasies with their romance fantasies too

If all we got was fanservice on pretty models with absolutely no personality, no lore, and no reason for us to be attached to them, this game would not be the huge success that it is today

If they don't appreciate media that's catered to the female gaze, there's literally a whole world full of other media out there for them to consume

Literally, just ignore and block all these bad takes. They're making themselves look like idiots for complaining about something they know nothing about. They'll step into a puddle and say "the ocean is shit" because they just want something to complain about

Especially when something is catered specifically to women

And especially when it's gaining huge success

#love and deepspace #asks

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yuutakei · 3 months ago

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not my usual post (i’ve been busy w college since i had to take some time off due after hurting my back n now i’m behindddd 〣( ºΔº )〣) but i can’t stop thinking about seunghan; sitting and watching all of this unfold i just feel so lost and helpless.

as a predebut stan who followed the project to support sungtaro (with an older sister who was an smrookies fan, namely seunghan’s) i have always been a huge advocate for all seven members since their debut announcement. each and every one of them hold a special place in my heart and the memories i have of their earlier days are a treasure to me.

but, as i lie here reflecting on their journey from debut to now, i can only scrutinise and question. ‘how did it ever get this bad?’.

after the mishaps and mistreatment within nct, riize was the promised boygroup a lot of the members almost never received. it was a sparkling path forward for these idols and trainees who were for so long uncertain about their futures almost too good to be true. even in their somewhat ‘humble’ beginnings, their brotherhood was remarkable and undeniable; these boys had worked so hard to build a collective identity and image for themselves. revolving around their found family of seven, riize was (to me) the epitome of youth and friendship. from their music to their choreography and variety content, they remained synonymous as a promising young group of seven - a notion that by all means should remain despite what further changes may be in store.

throughout my entire adolescence i was bullied, threatened and harassed by adults and peers alike. though my experiences are worlds different from seunghan’s, i can confidently recount and express the immense isolation, loneliness and guilt that harbours within oneself when singled out in these situations. we are social creatures constantly seeking approval and acceptance from those around us; the human psyche is malleable and extremely susceptible towards externally projected negative emotions and criticism. right or wrong it will often play in favour of the loudest voices and strongest presence in the room. tldr, if you drill into someone’s head enough that they are the cause of their group’s failure and reputation, they will believe it regardless of its truthfulness. he was left alone, cornered and threatened until he felt he had no choice but to step down.

that being said, as much as i respect seunghan's decision/proposal to withdraw, i (and many other briize) are left in overwhelming contention over his mental state, worrying for his wellbeing and worrying for his brothers that were distanced from him during such a difficult time.

and now, as more time passes with no elaborated statement, clear resolution or response my anger towards his label and respective production team only festers. observing the state of the fandom it’s reasonable to expect some level of protest or backlash against his return, but to leave him privy to such graphic and horrific scenes - hundreds of funeral wreaths displayed in his name - and make no moves, not even a stir, to merely mitigate such a childish display of emotion is beyond unfathomable. as his management it is their job to keep him safe and allow him to continue his work at an artist alongside the other members, a role that should never fall upon the group themselves who have now also been targeted because of the organisation’s continued blunders. how can you as an established individual comfortably allow your talent to not only wrongfully suffer, but openly blame themselves for a situation that escalated as a result of your own incompetence? and to make such an important decision without the presence and support of the other six members is irresponsible and disregards their feelings on the matter.

seunghan had no advocates in that room.

i can only pray for a peaceful future for him outside of public scrutiny and misdirected hatred and attention. may he spend this period in peace, surrounded by love and compassion.

#riize #riize is 7 #riize is seven #ot7 #riize ot7 #seunghan #hong seunghan #riize and realise #briize #fuck ot6 #i’m so tired

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happylittledrabbles · 3 months ago

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Kinktober Day 1: Edging

Fandom: Sk8 the Infinity

Pairing: Kojiro Nanjo (Joe) x Kaoru Sakurayashiki (Cherry Blossom)

Character Count: ~6,500K

Rating: Explicit, 18+

AO3

Kojiro has a problem. He comes too fast.

Kaoru proposes an idea to fix that: a little game called edging.

Kojiro has a problem. He comes too fast.

It wasn’t necessarily a problem the first time he had sex with Kaoru. Nor the second. In fact, Kaoru took it as a compliment—his ass was just that good. Then came the third…and the fourth, and Kaoru would barely be able to begin feeling good before he felt Kojiro throbbing inside him and heard his moans spilling out of his mouth.

It was a beautiful sight, of course. Seeing Kojiro so overcome with pleasure that his cheeks glow red, his eyebrows furrowed together as if perplexed by how something could feel so good, his sharp canines sinking into his bottom lip to suppress his moans because he claims it’s embarrassing. Every single part of Kojiro’s euphoric expression was almost enough to get Kaoru to finish on the spot.

Almost. Sadly, he would need at least ten more minutes of getting beautifully fucked out of his mind, ten minutes Kojiro couldn’t give. Kojiro apologized every time, of course, and Kaoru would sometimes finish with a handjob from Kojiro. Kojiro would always offer, but the apologies and sudden pressure on Kaoru to finish only made the situation worse and painfully awkward. They had only made their relationship official two months ago, and they didn’t have sex while they were first seeing each other. It wouldn’t have mattered if Kaoru had known of Kojiro’s predicament beforehand; he loved Kojiro, including his…struggles.

“I saw these condoms that make you last longer the last time I went to the store,” Kojiro mumbled as he tied the condom and tossed it in the bin.

He looked over his shoulder at Kaoru, who looked like a Greek god splayed out on the mattress, his pink hair sprawled out across the pillows in tendrils of bubblegum, his golden eyes lustfully gazing at Kojiro. Just the sight of him was enough to get Kojiro hard again, but the thought of disappointing Kaoru yet again was enough to leave him soft and dejected.

“Oh,” was all Kaoru could say as he watched Kojiro stand up to grab a towel.

“And I was thinking,” Kojiro continued as he walked over to Kaoru to gently wipe down his chest, “that I could start jacking off before we do it. I read that if you let one go, then you’re desensitized for the real thing, and—”

“Kojiro,” Kaoru murmured, lifting a hand to Kojiro’s cheek. He brushed his thumb across his boyfriend’s cheekbone and smiled as he watched Kojiro lean into his touch, those ruby-red eyes closing. “I don’t want you to be desensitized when we have sex. I’m serious—it truly isn’t worth making a fuss. You’ll get better with time.”

Despite the kind words, Kojiro looked less than convinced. His eyes opened but dropped to the bed, his hand fisting the bedsheets. “It’s just…I get so close, and I slow down so I don’t come on the spot, but prolonging that feeling makes it even worse. It’s like I’m on the edge, and the fact that I’m on the edge makes me want to jump off. Like, you know, when you’re on a super tall building, and you look down, and—”

“I understand,” Kaoru interrupted, pinching Kojiro’s lips closed. However, the more he digested Kojiro’s words, the more ideas bloomed in his head. Edge. He’s on the edge.

“Let’s go take a shower,” Kaoru offered, leaning forward and kissing Kojiro’s pinched lips before finally letting them go.

Kaoru half-expected Kojiro to say some sort of innuendo, something like, “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Cherry,” or “Good idea—we won’t get dirty in the shower,” but he’s instead reduced to silence. It hurt Kaoru to see his boyfriend so depressed over his stamina, something he couldn’t help. All Kaoru could do was hope the next time was a little better.

“It’s like I’m on the edge…”

As Kaoru watched Kojiro lather his hair, the murmurings of an idea in his mind finally solidified into something tangible. Kojiro wasn’t the only one reading about things on the internet—Kaoru was doing his own research.

And he had an idea.

Between their demanding jobs, S, and household chores, they didn’t get remotely into the mood until nearly a month after their last coupling.

Kaoru had won a race against a high-ranking member of S in a nail-biter race, one that had Kojiro watching the screen praying to whatever god was out there to protect his boyfriend. In a photo finish, Kaoru managed to pull ahead by leaning all his body weight forward, a risky move since it could have easily deviated his path, but it eventually won him the shiny trophy only a few meters away from the finish line.

He didn’t even care about the damn trophy. His prize was quite literally falling into Kojiro’s arms as he crossed the finish line. He had lost his balance and was about to face-plant, the ground approaching his face faster than he could process until he felt weightless. When he processed the feeling of beefy arms underneath his armpits and the warmth radiating off the bare chest mere centimeters from his nose, he lifted his head and frowned at Kojiro, already knowing what was about to come out of his mouth.

“You're really falling for me, aren’t you?”

“You bumbling oaf,” Kaoru grumbled, but instead of pulling away, he dove forward, burying his face in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck. He couldn’t hide the yelp that escaped his mouth when Kojiro picked him up by the waist and swung him around, laughing like a maniac. Kaoru couldn’t help but give into the infectious joy that seemed to permeate the air around Kojiro at all times, laughing along as he cupped his boyfriend’s face and planted a fat kiss on those dirty, dirty lips.

The adrenaline coursing through Kaoru’s veins had his entire body hot to the touch. He was feverish from triumph, from being able to hug and kiss somebody at the end of the race. For far too long, he’d been alone at the finish line with nobody to celebrate with except Carla. He’d look over at Kojiro on the other side, who was too busy flirting with women to even notice his win. Now, he had Kojiro all to himself.

The thought, albeit possessive, had him so feverish that he struggled to stand when Kojiro set him down. He watched as Kojiro retrieved the trophy, bringing it over with a giant grin on his annoyingly handsome face. He was so classically handsome, with a square jaw and small, deep-set eyes framed by dark eyelashes so long they tickled Kaoru’s face whenever they kissed. Kaoru’s growing lust was compounded by his annoyance at how handsome his boyfriend was.

“Kojiro,” he mumbled, subtly slipping a finger underneath the waistband of Kojiro’s pants and tugging at it. “Let’s go home, hm?”

As thick-headed as Kojiro could be sometimes, when it came to sexual advances, he was Albert Einstein. Sparing a few quick goodbyes to the rest of the members of S, he threw Kaoru over his shoulder and ran to their car parked in the abandoned lot next to the course.

“You buffoon!” Kaoru exclaimed, pounding his fists against Kojiro’s lower back as he kicked his legs. “Carla, cut off his path!”

Carla sped and paused in Kojiro’s path, but he easily avoided her by hopping over the board and continuing to the lot. Kaoru crossed his arms the rest of the way, including when Kojiro placed him in the passenger seat like a toddler.

Once Kojiro was done putting their boards in the back seat, he sat in the driver’s seat, his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel.

“You know,” he began, his voice low and sultry in the way he knew Kaoru liked, “we could do it here. Put the boards in the trunk. Maybe we need a little spice.”

He leaned over to Kaoru, his hand moving to his rose hair and watching as the long loose strands slipped through his fingers. He tucked a lock of hair behind Kaoru’s ear, his fingers lingering on his ear before stroking the shell of it, which was so red he wanted to take a bite out of it.

It was strange—it seemed like Kaoru’s expressions were sexier with the balaclava blocking half his face. It left Kojiro guessing—was he biting his lips? Was he panting with need?

Kaoru squeezed his eyes closed, but he didn’t move away from Kojiro’s touch—he knew that Kojiro knew all of his erogenous zones. What he lacked in stamina he made up in memorizing every other way to pleasure Kaoru.

He brushed his lips against Kaoru’s ear, delighting in the gasp that elicited from him. His hand dropped from Kaoru’s ear to his thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “What do you say?”

However, Kaoru intercepted Kojiro’s hand and held it in the air, turning his face so their noses were mere centimeters away. He smirked and licked his lips, looking down at the obvious tent in his boyfriend’s white linen pants. “I have an idea for tonight. Would you like to play along, Joe?”

He moved his hand away from Kojiro’s and down between his legs, ghosting his palm over his erection in such a tantalizing way that Kojiro couldn’t help but huff, a whine lacing his exhale. A whine that had Kaoru reaching across to start the car.

“I love games,” Kojiro replied. Kaoru’s desperation to leave only added to his painful arousal. He revved the car before putting it in drive, glancing at his boyfriend with his canines on full display. “Hang on, Cherry.”

It was a miracle they didn’t get pulled over for speeding or arrested for public indecency from how they groped each other on the way to Kaoru’s apartment. The moment they made it inside, Kojiro’s pants were off and Kaoru’s kimono had disappeared somewhere on the way to the bedroom.

However, Kaoru ensured he was facing the bed as they stumbled inside. Once they were standing in front of the bed, he pushed Kojiro down onto it, straddling him and having to bite back a grin as he watched Kojiro’s expression morph from surprise into red-hot lust.

“So, what’s the game?” Kojiro said, licking his lips as he rubbed the tops of Kaoru’s thighs spread on top of him.

Kaoru reached up and took out his hair tie, his hair draping like rose water down his back and shoulders. He couldn’t hide the smile that crossed his lips when he saw Kojiro gulp thickly, his eyes caressing his boyfriend’s svelte figure glowing in the moonlight like satin.

“You said that whenever you felt on edge, you’d finish even quicker,” Kaoru said, grinding his hips down so that Kojiro’s hardness rubbed between his ass cheeks. “So, we’re going to train that out of you.”

Kojiro scoffed, raising a brow. “So it’s not a game. It’s training. Sex training.”

Kaoru put a finger to his own lips and smiled something small yet big enough to show how excited he was for what was about to come. “No, it’s a game. If you manage to last over twenty minutes without coming from my…movements, then we’ll fuck every day this week, and you’ll get to come whenever you want. If you come before the twenty minutes are up, you’ll have to give me head for the rest of the week.”

Kojiro chuckled and sat up, wrapping his arms around Kaoru’s waist and pulling him close until their chests pressed against each other. “This is sounding like a win-win scenario.”

Kaoru frowned and flicked the space between Kojiro’s eyebrows. “For a sex fiend like you, maybe. Now, hush and watch.”

He pushed Kojiro onto the mattress again and wasted no time in starting up his hips like a mixer, swirling them until he felt Kojiro’s erection twitch.

“Hey, let’s lose the clothes, yeah?” Kojiro groaned, pressing his head back into the mattress as he sunk his fingernails into Kaoru’s thighs.

“Good idea,” Kaoru said, standing back up and motioning for Kojiro to sit up. “Take them off me.”

“Fuck,” Kojiro breathed, his hands on the waistband of Kaoru’s pants before he could even finish his sentence. “Don’t mind if I do.”

In one swift motion, he pushed down Kaoru’s pants to reveal his cock, rosy and hard and already wet from pre-come. Kojiro smirked and tipped his head back to kiss Kaoru on the jaw, gently scraping his fingernails down his back. “Doesn’t look like I’ll be losing any time soon.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, big boy,” Kaoru purred, dropping to his knees and rubbing Kojiro’s clothed thighs as he cocked his head. “Your turn.”

Kojiro’s pants were gone even faster than when he stripped Kaoru down, setting free his erection that was straining painfully against the fabric. Expletives ran through Kaoru’s mind at the sight of his naked boyfriend, resembling a bona fide sports model, except instead of a modeling set, he was in Kaoru’s apartment, legs spread like a king and ready to receive. It was frankly unfair to the rest of Kojiro’s suitors that Kaoru won him in the end—and he damn sure wasn’t going to share any of him with anybody.

With a firm hand, he gripped Kojiro’s cock and gave it a tentative stroke. He had to bite back a smile at how sensitive Kojiro was from any touch from his boyfriend, feeling even luckier that he could call Kojiro his boyfriend. He removed his hand only to spit in it before returning it to Kojiro’s cock, slicking it up and causing slick sounds to echo throughout the apartment.

“Don’t tell me you’re already close,” Kaoru mumbled with a smirk as delicious moans poured from his boyfriend’s mouth no matter how much he tried to stop them by biting his knuckles. “I had so much fun planned…”

“You really think…hah…this is enough to make me come?” Kojiro began to chuckle, but it quickly turned into another groan when Kaoru tightened his grip and quickened his stroking pace. “A fucking handjob? Don’t…mmm…m-make me laugh.”

“No, I’ll make you moan,” Kaoru said before leaning forward and wrapping his lips around the tip of Kojiro’s cock, which was red and weeping precome and oh-so-hard.

The groan that drew out from Kojiro’s lips was lovely and only made Kaoru’s own cock harden that much more. Kojiro prided himself on feeling good by making Kaoru feel good due to his shortcomings, but Kaoru also enjoyed seeing Kojiro enjoy himself. After all, it was one of the only reasons why he had sex with Kojiro as often as he did. He got hard just at the thought of Kojiro ravaging him with only his eyes, nevermind with his hands. That really got Kaoru going.

An obscene noise escaped Kaoru’s throat as he took all of Kojiro’s cock in one fell swoop, his erection taking up every single centimeter of Kaoru’s throat until it suctioned to the sides. It was uncomfortable, certainly, but the way Kojiro’s abs were on full display and his moans spilled out like a river was more than enough to keep Kaoru going.

GACK!

Kaoru admitted to himself that he was making the sounds on purpose, knowing that Kojiro was an auditory type of person during sex. He enjoyed hearing Kaoru moan, say his name, say anything during sex as long as it was positive. Although, he didn’t have to try very hard to make the noises in the first place—Kojiro’s cock was simply too big for him to handle all at once without meeting resistance.

Saliva gathered at the corners of his mouth and poured down his chin, causing a big mess he usually wouldn’t tolerate, but the sweet sounds Kojiro was making were enough to distract him from the spit-and-come mess that was his chin, throat, and chest.

“Fuck, Kaoru, do you usually do…do it like this? Or am I j-just…super fucking horny?” Kojiro could barely get a sentence out without succumbing to pleasure.

His hand mussed itself in Kaoru’s hair, gripping it at the roots with the exact grip he knew Kaoru liked. Kojiro chuckled when he felt Kaoru’s mouth buzz around his cock as he moaned at the tightness of Kojiro’s grip on his scalp, shocks of pleasure shooting down both of their spines. The vibrations only made Kojiro grow closer to finishing, which made him pull gently on Kaoru’s hair.

“Kaoru, fuck, wait, I’m—fuck—!”

With a resounding pop, Kaoru lifted off Kojiro’s cock and brushed his pink hair behind his ear as he licked the tip with tantalizing slowness. He kept his eyes solely on Kojiro, who looked at him with a gaze so heated with lust it seemed like those red eyes would burst into flames.

“Not yet,” Kaoru murmured, his lips against the head of Kojiro’s cock. He then stood and climbed back into Kojiro’s lap.

Now that they were both completely naked, it only added to their mutual need to destroy each other sexually. Kojiro’s cock slotted perfectly between Kaoru’s ass, slipping into the divot the curve of his back made as Kaoru rocked his hips back and forth at a pace that had Kojiro gripping his hips for dear life. Kaoru gathered the saliva that moistened his chin and neck and reached behind himself to his entrance, where he gingerly slipped two fingers inside and pumped them unhurriedly. He still wanted to torture Kojiro, and he had gotten so used to his lover’s shape that it hardly took much prep outside of lubrication to get him ready to be fucked out of his mind.

“Ah-ah,” Kaoru chided, grasping Kojiro’s hands and loosening their grip on his body. “I’m in control. Do you not understand the rules of the game?”

Kojiro sucked on his teeth and reluctantly detached his fingers from Kojiro’s hips, instead settling them on his thighs. “Oh, I understand them,” he began, his eyes sliding down his boyfriend’s body with unadulterated arousal. “I just don’t like them.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Kaoru cooed, lifting his hips so that Kojiro’s cock was kissing the tip of his hole. “Because I’m about to get sucked off for the rest of the week.”

“Not that I’m complaining but,” Kojiro started, his hands sliding to cup each of Kaoru’s ass cheeks as if they were made of glass, “I like winning. And I’m going to win this. Do your worst.”

Kaoru snickered and reached behind him to give Kojiro’s cock a stroke to punish him. “Have you noticed that you aren’t wearing a condom? And you’ve always worn a condom the entire time we’ve been together?”

He almost laughed at seeing in real time Kojiro putting two-and-two together. His eyes dropped from Kaoru’s face to where they were almost connected, and his muscles began to spasm as if just the sight of it was enough to further his realization.

“Holy…are you sure, Kaoru?” he asked, his tone dropping from cocky to sincere. “We don’t have to…”

“You haven’t been with anybody else without a condom, right?” Kaoru asked, dropping just enough for the head of Kojiro’s cock to enter him. Both men groaned together, their pleasure and bodies harmonizing at the simple movement.

“Fuck no,” Kojiro grumbled, his fingernails leaving crescent tattoos on the soft flesh of Kaoru’s thighs. “I could never. How could I, with this, with you…”

“Then we’re fine,” Kaoru whispered earnestly. He carded his fingers through Kojiro’s hair, bringing his hand to cup his jaw before closing his eyes and slowly, tortuously dropping his hips.

The feeling of Kojiro’s raw cock was like no other. He could feel every vein, every pulse, every square centimeter of fiery hot skin against his walls, and it drove him crazy beyond reasoning. He dropped his hips all the way, all at once, causing a slap of skin on skin to echo in the room and his mind. He had only processed that all of Kojiro was inside him when he heard the sounds of struggle coming from his boyfriend.

When he opened his eyes, he was greeted with the Renaissance portrait that was Kojiro Nanjo in the throes of bliss. The moonlight streaming from the windows provided a perfect chiaroscuro, highlighting his expression and strained muscles in a milk-white spotlight.

More often than not, the second he slid down on Kojiro’s cock, he would finish on the spot. Not this time. It seemed as if Kojiro was using everything in his power not to finish because he could barely open his eyes or speak.

“Kojiro,” Kaoru murmured, trailing a hand down his boyfriend’s sweat-slick muscled chest. “Are you alright?”

“Fuck, Kaoru,” Kojiro breathed, his chest rising and falling erratically. “I’m more than alright. Fuck, fucking move.”

Kaoru licked his lips, his eyes heavily lidded with desire. “Can I get a please?”

Kojiro’s eyes flew open at that, those striking reds meeting gold. “Please.”

Kaoru couldn’t deny his boyfriend any longer. However, with only a few minute hip movements, Kojiro was already gripping him and bringing him to a halt.

“I’m close, fuck, I’m close—”

“Kojiro,” Kaoru said, slapping his boyfriend’s hands away until he fell back on the mattress, defeated. “What did I tell you?”

“I was so fucking close, Kaoru,” Kojiro whined.

Whined. Kaoru had gotten a preview of Kojiro’s brattish behavior back in the car, the first time he had ever witnessed his boyfriend nearly begging for something. Kaoru couldn’t hide the twitch his cock gave at that, and despite the heat broiling in his stomach, he felt a desperate need to draw those whines out of Kojiro again and again.

“Ngh…how about now?” Kaoru gasped as he rolled his hips in a way that had Kojiro’s cock brushing against his prostate with enough pressure that left him salivating. “Are you close now? Hm, Kojiro?”

Kojiro’s eyes squeezed closed again, his forest hair spread across the mattress wildly. “Shit, like that…yeah, just like that, Kaoru. More, more—”

Much to Kojiro’s chagrin, Kaoru steadied his hips, causing him to fist the bedsheets and buck his hips up in retaliation.

“Kojiro!” Kaoru exclaimed, steadying himself by planting his hands on Kojiro’s stomach, but that only made it easier to go along for the ride his boyfriend was giving him. “Ah, Kojiro—wait!”

“Oh, are you about to come?” Kojiro chuckled. His bravado swiftly toppled down the second Kaoru regained control and balanced himself by reaching behind him to grip Kojiro’s thigh, cementing his hips in place.

“Says you, you absolute buffoon,” Kaoru huffed. He would rather die than admit that yes, he had been close. The heat in his stomach was quickly reaching a boiling point, an unknown feeling when it came to having penetrative sex with Kojiro. How the hell was Kojiro faring so well?

“I’m doing just fine.” As if proving his point, he gave a half thrust, just to show that he could, that Kaoru couldn’t control him completely.

“Enough.” Kaoru was sick and tired of his game rules being violated.

He was a stickler for rules, as shown in S whenever Ainosuke bent or completely broke them without a second thought. But Kojiro knew better. So, Kaoru ground and swirled his hips at a pace that left Kojiro speechless. Kaoru’s cock bounced with the vigor of his movements, the slight indentation of abs on his svelte figure showing proudly.

“Kaoru—Kaoru! Fuck, please don’t stop…please, I’m so…” As if realizing that Kaoru was going to stop, Kojiro shut himself up and instead went along for the ride, palming Kaoru’s ass and following along with its gyrations.

“Close? You’re close?” Kaoru asked, his voice breathy and low.

Kojiro’s cock was beginning to pulse at a rate unfamiliar to Kaoru, who had only known three thrusts before feeling the condom expand inside him. It seemed to stretch him open with how big it was growing, and Kojiro wasn’t small to begin with. Kaoru hissed at the sudden stretch, but the pain coupled with the pleasure left his head fuzzy and unable to process any logic. Instead, it abandoned all thought processes together in favor of pursuing pleasure with reckless abandon.

“Hah, Kojiro…you’re so—ngh!” His voice poured with no regard as to how he sounded—all he knew was that he needed to moan, needed to make it known that his euphoria was consuming every thought, every synapse in his body. He wanted Kojiro to know that, yes, he was having fun, that he was feeling good, and that no matter what happened at that moment, he’d leave feeling satisfied.

It was only then that he realized that sex with Kojiro wasn’t about the orgasm. Sex in general wasn’t about orgasming. He enjoyed being in his lover’s arms, feeling his skin on his, tasting the sweat and come and spit along with hearing his moans like a symphony in his small one-bedroom apartment. He loved Kojiro’s cock, no matter how long it was inside him.

“Kaoru…Kaoru, you’re so…w-warm inside…” Kojiro’s voice died out as he watched his boyfriend mewl and move on top of him with the passion of a porn star. His eyes then fell on Kaoru’s bouncing, leaking cock, and he bit his lip before reaching forward and grasping it with a feather-like grip.

“Ah! Kojiro, that—!” The next movement Kaoru made with his hips inadvertently made him thrust into Kojiro’s hand, and move that fired every neuron in his brain and had him chasing that high again and again.

Kojiro could only watch in fascination as Kaoru thrust into his hand with each rock of the hips. But how could Kaoru not lose his mind? Being stimulated both in the front and back had his head floating off his shoulders into clouds so fluffy and light that he couldn’t fathom ever coming down.

“Keep…keep doing that, Kojiro. Oh, my—oh, my…!”

Kojiro sat up right as Kaoru finished in his hand and spurted his come all over his boyfriend’s chest and stomach. He knew Kaoru was about to come, having memorized every tic, every expression from the few times he had come by Kojiro’s hand. His eyebrows would furrow above those golden eyes that crossed as he’d look up at the ceiling before closing them, his kiss-drunk lips agape to let out those delicious whimpers and moans. Kojiro ate every single one by kissing Kaoru deeply, licking his bottom lip for silent permission before advancing his tongue into his warmth. Kaoru returned gratefully, their tongues sloppily hugging each other before he had to part to catch his breath from his heavenly orgasm.

“F…fuck…” he breathed, his shoulders sagging in fatigue.

“Wow, Kaoru Sakurayashiki cussing? Who taught you how to do that?” Kojiro teased, planting light kisses along his lover’s jaw.

Only after he had processed Kojiro’s words did Kaoru realize what had happened. He had lost his own game, the evidence right there on Kojiro’s chiseled chesticles. Kojiro’s cock was still inside him, still hard enough to stretch him open, and Kaoru’s ass was still empty of semen. It wasn’t as if Kojiro had gotten softer—no, in fact, Kaoru could feel his cock throbbing as if he’d finish at any moment.

“I…lost,” Kaoru mumbled, placing his hands on Kojiro’s hefty pecs. At least feeling up his boyfriend was a good consolation prize, but it didn’t solve the question of just how Kojiro was able to manage it. “How…how did you…?”

“Oh, how did I not come?” Kojiro asked with a smirk, one of his hands planted on Kaoru’s ass making its way down to where his cock was lodged inside his lover’s hole. He traced Kaoru’s entrance, which only made him whimper and dive forward to bury his face in the crook of Kojiro’s neck. “I used this numbing cream on my dick before the race. You always seem to get horny after them, so I thought ahead and…well, here we are.”

Kaoru’s face of shock was worthy of hanging a picture of it on the wall. His raised eyebrows then fell as he pouted and crossed his arms, flicking his hair behind his shoulder. “You cheated? Now, that’s not very fair.”

“I guess not,” Kojiro said with a shrug. Before Kaoru could retort with anything else, Kojiro gave another experimental thrust that had Kaoru scraping four red lines down his boyfriend’s chest. “Well, it made things interesting, right?”

Interesting wasn’t necessarily the word Kaoru would use to describe what had happened between them. He felt himself growing harder with each second he felt the minute movements of Kojiro’s cock slipping in and out of him, and he couldn’t deny the ever-present arousal he felt in his body whenever he was around his boyfriend. He cleared his throat and looked at Kojiro with a hard stare, his lips pulled into a determined frown.

“The only way you’ll be able to make it up to me,” he whispered, lifting his hips so that Kojiro’s cock slipped out of him, “is to fuck me until that numbing cream wears off.”

Kojiro had been in the middle of lamenting the sudden chill that hit his dick when Kaoru’s warmth and tightness disappeared, but his expression turned stony when his lover’s words finally processed in his mind. In one swift move, he had Kaoru on his back, his legs spread and his cock nudging against his hole.

Sliding a hand into Kaoru’s, intertwining their fingers, and listening for any sounds of resistance, he slowly entered his rightful place inside Kaoru, the tightness and heat of his lover returning all at once.

“Ahn-! So hasty…!” Kaoru gasped, the hand that wasn’t in Kojiro’s grip flailing forward before grabbing hold of his boyfriend’s back. “You couldn’t have warned me first?”

“Not when I’m about to fuck you until you come for me again.” Kojiro’s fingers brushed against Kaoru’s cheek before dropping to his chest, sketching a trail down his torso before ending just above his cock.

Kaoru began to writhe as if he could feel Kojiro’s hand on him already, but when he felt nothing, he paused and opened his eyes to see Kojiro staring up at him with a smirk that made him want to smack his lover into another dimension. “Kojiro! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Edging you,” he answered simply. His knuckles grazed Kaoru’s hardening cock with a whisper of a touch, an action so tedious that it had Kaoru huffing.

Kaoru tsked and rolled his eyes. “You’re joking.”

“I’m as serious as you are rock hard,” Kojiro replied easily before slapping Kaoru’s legs together and throwing them over his shoulder. Before Kaoru could say anything, he snapped his hips forward, nearly finishing on the spot from how tight Kaoru had grown from having his legs together paired with the surprise from the sudden change in position. He’d need to buy buckets of that numbing cream because the sight of Kaoru drooling from pleasure, squirming underneath him from too much bliss in too little of a body, was something he needed to see daily.

“Holy shit, Kaoru—fuck, this is nice…” he growled, biting the meat of Kaoru’s calf. Kaoru hid a yelp behind his hand, biting his knuckles as his head lolled to the side. As an apology, Kojiro licked the bite mark, which only left Kaoru in more of a fucked-out state than he currently was in.

“It’s too much, Kojiro…I can’t—I can’t—I’m—”

“Not yet.” Kojiro paused his rhythm and slowly slid out until he was about halfway inside Kaoru. He had to hide his laughter behind his forearm when Kaoru sat up and screamed at him. Once he regained his composure, he dropped his forearm and stared down at Kaoru, his position above him imposing and regal. “You’ll come when I tell you to.”

As much as he wanted to control, Kaoru enjoyed being controlled just as much. There had been multiple times when he’d had a stressful day, and all he wanted was for Kojiro to manhandle him and fuck him until he had to chase after his breath and skip work the next day. Kojiro had always finished too early before anything remotely resembling manhandling could take place, so, as much as Kaoru enjoyed taking the wheel, all he could do was lay back down and scoot forward so that he was taking in more of Kojiro’s cock.

“Please,” he murmured, rocking his hips to the best of his ability with his legs perched on Kojiro’s shoulder, getting stretched open just enough by Kojiro’s cock that all of his blood had drained to his own cock. “Please, Kojiro…I want to come…”

Alright, enough games. Kojiro had had enough of games. What he wanted was to fuck his boyfriend, something up until now had been an endeavor so fruitless that he had considered taking it off the table completely. He wanted to feel his boyfriend come on his cock, wanted to come inside him and feel every single groove of his walls hug his cock like an old friend.

And so Kojiro did just that. Holding onto Kaoru’s legs, he thrust away hard enough to have the bed squeaking and the mattress bowing underneath their combined weight. The sounds were so stereotypically sexual that Kaoru knew he wouldn’t be able to face his neighbors the next day, but he didn’t think about that at that moment. All he could think about was how Kojiro’s cock was ramming into his prostate with enough force and precision that he was already falling over the edge.

“Kojiro! Don’t stop—please don’t, I’m coming, I’m come—”

Tears of frustration escaped Kaoru’s eyes when Kojiro slowed his thrusting pace, cutting down the wave of pleasure that had been about to crest in his stomach. “Kojiro, I’m begging you, please—keep going, I want to come!”

“You just said the magic words.” With a chaste kiss to the bite mark he left behind, Kojiro thrust with such force that it rippled through Kaoru’s body like a whip. It only took three of these sharp thrusts for the bliss to finally overtake Kaoru’s body, the sensation resembling a warm shower, the water pitter-pattering on his skin and leaving him warm and relaxed.

The sight of Kaoru’s entire body freezing up paired with the restrictive tightness of his ass was enough to have Kojiro coming undone right then and there. He pulled Kaoru onto his cock until he was fully buried inside, hugging his legs to his chest almost in emotional support as load after load of semen flooded Kaoru’s walls with each squeeze his hole gave his cock.

“F…fuck! God, shit!” Kojiro’s expletives melted into graphic moans that far outweighed Kaoru’s quiet mewls of oversensitivity. His fingernails left angry red trails down the softness of Kaoru’s inner thighs, leaving him tattooed with evidence of Kojiro’s success.

Kaoru sighed at the feeling of semen inside him, an unknown sensation that he all but welcomed from the boyfriend to whom he had declared his love only weeks after meeting him. He had acted nothing but uncharacteristically around Kojiro—that was just what Kojiro did. He made Kaoru act like a fool, a fool who enjoyed the feeling of semen coating his walls and making him feel even more full than he already was.

Kojiro gently laid Kaoru’s legs down on the mattress, who then spread them open to make room for his lover. Kaoru held open his arms, and Kojiro gladly took the invitation, diving forward and sliding his hands underneath Kaoru’s waist to hold him close. They were sweaty, sticky, and slick with all sorts of body fluids, but they were creating courage for Kojiro to pull out.

“You lost,” Kojiro whispered into Kaoru’s ear, who groaned in protest. “That means we’re gonna have to fuck for the rest of the week. You think you can keep up?”

Kaoru moved his face so that he was glaring directly at Kojiro. He hooked his legs together and pushed Kojiro forward, milking him dry and smirking at the long groan that drew from him. “Mm…I can, especially if we fuck like this. The question is: can you?”

“S-sure,” Kojiro replied, still shaken up by how every centimeter of him was at the whim of Kaoru’s tight entrance. “As long as I have my numbing cream.”

Kaoru sobered at that, his smirk fading into a small frown. “Kojiro, I don’t want you to use that. I want you to feel all of me, even if that means you’ll finish quickly.”

He tucked a piece of sweaty hair behind his lover’s ear, bringing his hand down to his face to wipe away a bead of sweat next to his nose. “It’s alright that you don’t have much stamina. I have fun just being with you, regardless of whether we both finish through sex or not. I…I love you. And that means every part of you.”

Kojiro also sobered at that, but his expression was more disappointment than sincerity. “I’m just sick and tired of letting you down. I want you to feel good.”

“I will feel good no matter what you do to me, Kojiro,” Kaoru said with a light chuckle. “My entire body is an erogenous zone around you. It’s quite embarrassing, to be frank. Even if we’re just like this…I’m enjoying myself.”

Kojiro laughed. “Having my soft dick inside you?”

Kaoru pulled a disgusted face. “Well, when you put it like that…”

He was about to object when he felt Kojiro pulling out, but his body was so wracked with oversensitivity that all he could do was attempt to regulate his breathing. Once Kojiro was fully out, all Kaoru could focus on was the semen spilling out of him and leaving him cold and empty.

He watched as Kojiro flopped down beside him, blinking lazily from fatigue. “I never thought I’d get the edging turned around on me…that’s what I get for playing games.”

“Hey,” Kojiro said firmly, motioning to the sea of white on Kaoru’s chest. “You call this losing?”

Kaoru stayed silent, covering his face with his forearm. However, it was quickly taken away and replaced with Kojiro’s handsome, symmetrical face that grinned at him with a stunning smile.

“Let’s try this edging thing again,” he offered. “If I get to cry from desperation like you did…count me in.”

“You rude gorilla,” Kaoru grumbled, grabbing a pillow and hitting Kojiro with it.

However, he had truly taken a liking to edging. It felt as if he had completely separated from his body, becoming a slave to pleasure, his only goal to chase it.

And, well, it made Kojiro good at sex. Amazing at it.

And if edging was the way to go, so be it.

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