#why is that evil bastard so fucking sexy

[sandwitchstories]

I am struggling to focus at work today. Sooooo instead of doing stats, I wrote a little blurb that will definitely become an actual story.

Have some Sukuna brain rot! (Fyi in my mind he looks older and is going to become a totally separate body from Yuji. You'll just have to wait and see!)

Drop a comment if you want to be tagged when the first chapter comes out!!

Summary: reader is a jujutsu sorcerer but Sukuna has taken an interest in her

Read below the cut! Only implied smut at this point.

Cw: mentions of sex, dream talking, dreams reader will vividly remember

Wc: 536

Invading that womans dreams may have been the stupidest thing Sukuna had ever done. Tasting her flesh and burying his cock in her in that dream had only made him even hungrier for her; it had not sated his craving even a little. He didn't know what it was about that defiant little shit but he craved her presence and her body… not to have Uraume cook up.

He needed his own body. He wanted to fuck her with his own cock, not this losers who he was stuck in. Some trembling virgin. He wanted to please her like he had in her dreams. She had willingly given herself to him in her dreams for a week now and he was absolutely addicted.

It had started out as curiosity. She was highly intelligent had quickly picked up that while they were in a dream, they were actually talking and both of them would remember everything upon waking.

She had a vivid imagination. She had smiled at him and asked him if he wanted to visit her favorite place. He had figured why the hell not.

He has not expected her to conjure up a small lake with a waterfall. Surrounded by wisteria and weeping willows. It was gorgeous, he had to admit it. He could even feel the rays of sunshine on his face.

She had beckoned him to sit beside her and talk. She said that in the real world everyone was so filled with hatred and anger at him that it made it impossible to actually speak to him unguarded but maybe here they could.

He asked her why she would even want to speak to him with his past. She shrugged and said everyone has a past but can work towards a future atoning for their sins. He laughed and told her he had no interest in atoning for his sins, they would attempt to kill him no matter what. She had shrugged and said that was his prerogative.

She asked why he was there. He answered honestly that he wasn't sure. He just… wanted to talk to her.

She had shrugged again and leaned back on her palms, stretching her legs out in front of her and crossing them at the ankles.

She looked at him with those big green eyes and asked him what his favorite type of music was, did he have a favorite movie, did he eat things besides humans, what did humans even taste like, had he ever had a pet… just the stupidest, most mundane questions he had ever been asked yet… it felt oddly good to have someone talk to him like this.

When she woke he left a thought in her mind that he would see her again. It was not a threat. It was a promise.

He had already decided he was not going to threaten her or kill her. He would make sure she was safe until he figured out just what the hell this was and why he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Would she be is salvation or his damnation? Only time would tell. But he was looking forward to unraveling the mystery that was her.

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Somnophilia smut with Sol? Reader doesn't wake up (Tʖ̯T)

No Rest for the Wicked (Sol x MC/Reader - Somnophilia Smut)

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, PRESENTING TO THE STAGE, YOUR FAVOURITE TKATB WRITER !!!

SKY FORTRESSES AND BURNING CITADELS, WITH A LONGTIME-AWAITED, PROMISED SOLIVAN BRUGMANSIA S.M.U.T.!

*bows*

Anyway, just a reminder this is rape, non-consented, probably slightly OOC, and I'm a (slightly more than) tad rusty in writing. I've also never written smut before, so do give feedback if you deem it necessary. Toodles, my sexy motherfuckers.

You could even say I came back with a bang. ;)

P.S. Also the M/C is written as a virgin in this, if your character isn't then congratulations! They hid their previous sexual escapades impeccably well, for Sol to not know.

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Wicked: evil or morally wrong.

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The room was pitch black, so heavily ensnared in the gaping shade of the darkened night that even shadows disappeared under its tarlike veil. Any ordinary, random burglar would be blindly stumbling about like an idiot, if they happened upon your apartment with…impure intentions.

Sol wasn’t a burglar, and he was definitely not ordinary. He wasn’t a mindless passerby on the streets, with a forgettable face and unassuming nature. Sure, he acted the part well, played the weak-minded shy kid well. But that act, that mask? It’s for the faces that litter his vision, that plague his sight and try to distract him from his goal, his mission, his messiah.

Faces that exist as a way to try and deter him from his forever, from his life and his bride, from his venerant Annabel Lee.

You.

He’s saving his true, adaptable, self for you. He’s willing to morph into anyone for you, alter himself, hurt himself if you so merely asked!

You could ask him to kill for you and he wouldn’t even blink until said soul was eviscerated; and their body exsanguinated and dumped in an outskirt lake.

He was the only one for you, your only soulmate, your only lover, your only.

So why did you always neglect him? Ignore him; spend time with him as a last resort, all in favour of that insignificant bastard-born slug?!

What did he have that Sol didn’t? Hmm? 

The queries began to flood his mind, onslaught his body. He barked out a laugh, a cold, brisk sound that reverberated across the walls, before cruelly biting the skin of his knuckles.

Hush, can’t have you wake up now darling, not when you’re so serene and at ease.

He didn’t want to do anything bad to you, of course not, he loves you…! But even the best of lovers need to be taught a lesson…or seven.

Boots softly thud against your floor, their path marked by years of memory and intuition, and like normal, he makes his way to your bedside.

Sol might not be able to see you, but he doesn’t need to. He already knows how you sleep, he remembers the precise dosage of medication he needs to do this…he’s all set…

Yet the longer he stands there, the more time ticks by him, gently ageing you both second by second closer to a fated death, he was struck by an epiphany:

Why the fuck should he settle for this? He’s been in the darkness long enough.

The kid at the back.

The afterthought.

The forgotten face of the world.

If Jericho Ichabod gets to see you…then so shall fucking he.

In a bout of ornery, he ditched his boots and marched into the lightless expanse of your lounge. He knew you had a torch hidden somewhere, might as well finally make use of it. 

Like he will of you.

Most people would’ve already ditched or aimlessly clambered around; but Sol wasn’t most people. He knew your residence inside out, all of them.Each place, grandiose or minimalistic, apartment or house. No matter where you go, he’s always watching, tonight’s just a little more…intimate, a touch closer than his usual escapades.

His hand softly searched the drawers, each soft click sent a thrilling chill down his spine, his body shuddered as he tactfully manoeuvred his way about the room. His fingers casually map each surface, fondling for anything remotely cylindrical…until, after what felt like millenia, he finds it. How lucky.

A lava lamp. Bright enough to see you, dim enough to not awaken you; and look at that…it’s red, like his eyes, like his lips…like his cock.

Were you thinking of me, beloved?

With methodical steps, silent as the grave, he strode back to you, placed the lamp in the closet door…and by God’s holy grail was he once more rendered stunned.

The soft crimson rays paint your frame in a way he prayed to one day replicate, with his own blood, perhaps? Paint wouldn’t be enough to perfectly capture your divine essence. 

Your lips look so fucking good. 

He wanted to have you so damn badly it hurt.

And he would’ve…until something crossed his peripherals.

A small photo, about the size of his palm, lay tucked away on your bedside drawer.

To say Sol was intrigued by this was an understatement, and his bubbling wonder continued to froth as he took in the details of this quaint square and halted. 

All intrigue turned to rage, white and hot like his flesh and it pelted his mind like hail on an abandoned car; before an idea, comical as it was repulsive, crept into the depraved depths of his mind.

What better way to avenge himself than make the whore see? See how much better he is, both in appearance and in bed?

A lifeless grin moulded into his face, Sol positioned the photo to ensure it stared right at him; The slug isn’t worthy of seeing the pretty things you’ll do; he thought.

He bored his eyes into ones of disgusting cobalt, before turning down to the grandest feast of his life.

Slender fingers, corpse-like in colour, caressed your face, measuring once more the map that is your body, his eyes hungrily raking over your sleeping form.

Against his better judgement, he lowers his head and drags his tongue, languid and unhurried, across your neck, his teeth softly rubbing across your zen pulse. 

He swiftly rose up, his face burning and his breaths stuttering; all the while his cock —  like the night before, and the one before that — began to fucking ache, straining horribly against his pants, almost begging to be allowed freedom from its constant confines. 

The urge to tear off your clothes and piston himself so deep inside you that your body would refuse any other dick was so tempting. The mere thought made a small wet spot appear, yet Sol would take his time, after all, this was merely you making up for teasing him, right?

Fuck it.

In one swift motion, he’s at your side, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as his hand casually dived under your shirt, worming its way towards the mounds that lay atop your angelic heart; but you couldn’t possibly blame him, they’re so malleable and beautiful; just like you!

He inhaled sharply, before closing his eyes and stifling a pathetic whimper.

You smell so fucking good.

His whole body was like a bomb, ticking away until either his time runs out and he leaves to care for himself elsewhere, or until he allows himself to… indulge.

If Ichabod got to revel in your presence, then so shall he.

“Mhh??”

Shit.

He froze, his body arched over you, his hoodie half off, exposing his burnt abdomen, carmine circles and purple dots peppering him like seasoning. 

Ahh…you told me I was beautiful in your eyes once…but I won’t risk you rejecting me from these, darling.

Another reason why he loved you oh-so much. You’re so pristine, so pure, so perfect that it stung. He didn’t deserve you, he wasn’t remotely close to reaching the bar of whom someone like you should have; but he didn’t care anymore. You were here, beneath him.

And he was going to have you if it’s the last thing he ever does.

Soon enough, his mouth returned to your pulse, suckling on the throbbing flesh and his teeth cautiously caging the arteries, until a mark — angry red like the burns that paint his skin — started to blossom.

His hand inched up your breast, the pads of his chilled fingers encircled your areolas, the nips hardened and prodded at him, begging to be pleasurably satiated — and satiate he inevitably would.

He swiftly moved to straddling you, this time in entirety, careful to avoid putting too much pressure on your torso. When you’re lying so prettily before him it was almost too easy to forget how much bigger than you he was, how small and dainty and delicate you were compared to him.

Using his other hand to lift your nightshirt to your collarbones, Sol redirected himself fully to your breasts, his teeth grazing over the buds before rapidly digging them into the warm fat, his nails clawing at your sides like they were pencils upon a blank canvas and the artist had the eureka of a lifetime.

His face felt torrid, his whole body felt like it’d been set ablaze and he’d barely started.

Look at what you’ve turned me into, but I’m not complaining, how can I?

Sol suddenly wished he was a snake, so he could coil around your body forever, his fangs lodged in either your neck or tits, while his tip would remain buried so deeply within you that you’d forget what it meant to move normally.

But hey, he could still do one of those things. The drugs are significantly stronger this time.

As if to test the waters, he delicately shifted your blouse off of you, tossing it somewhere else on the bed whilst he — perverted as he knew he was — admired your figure, his hands mellowly brushing your arms and kneading your curves, wanting to ingrain this image of you for the rest of his life.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. How are you so pretty?”

His cock was shrieking now, hell, he was struggling to contain himself. But he could hold off a little longer, right?

No. No I can’t.

His hands weren’t even his anymore, by the time he’d ceased gazing at you, his belt was being yanked out and he was aggressively tugging his pants down, a sharp slap! bouncing off the walls as his dick emerged from its confines, dribbles of translucent white steadily seeped out the shroomy head. 

He inched closer to you, deciding to fully ditch his clothes as he tenderly brought your hands into his. He covered them each in kisses, suckled on your fingertips, before guiding them towards his throbbing crotch, your fingers tightly clutched onto it; it’s like you’ve wanted this as much as him!

Shit. Fuck. Fuck you’re so pretty.

Blanketing your fingers with his longer ones, Sol slowly pumped himself into your palm, his whole body almost falling on top of you with how violently he shook at the sheer magnitude of carnal pleasure that coursed through his veins.

A pitiful whine emitted from his tongue as he commenced vigorously propelling himself into your hand, the drastic change in speed and temperament making the sensations nearly overwhelming. 

It forced him to hold his weight up over you; like his arm was a pillar to a divine shrine, one that he deems you more than worthy of. But he supposed this is the best way to be close to a god, to worship a god.

Shit, I love you. I love you so much, you don’t know how crazed I get when it comes to you.

Sol turned to the small picture of Ichabod, before looking respectlessly at the view under him, and smirked.

From his nigh-omniscience when it comes to you, Sol knows you’ve never had sex, and he’d be damned if your first would be Crowe.

He continued to piston himself into your palm, contemplating whether he should move on…elsewhere, while he could. 

Your hands weren’t gonna be enough, he wanted Ichabod to see him fucking you, making love to you; you didn’t have to be conscious, you’d still love him either way. 

Sol relished in the thought, as his thrusts grew erratic and variable, his abs clenching and his arms locking in as he prepared to release, to paint his magnum opus — to paint you white with his cum.

I love you, I love you so much, I want you so much, you’re everything to me IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.

He moaned, gripped your hand and placed a messy kiss to your lips, using his other appendage to pump faster and faster, until his body physically stuttered into it —  until his whole being shattered, and a fountain of his sperm splattered onto your skin, leaving your body glistening under the vermillion light of the lamp.

But Sol wasn’t done this time, for how could he be? He had to make sure nobody got to you before he did.

He kissed you again, his tongue diving into your mouth, exploring the wet cavern, his hand — the one that formerly served as a buttress — coming down to the band of  your shorts, his fingers gently prying them down with your panties, and judging by its appearance, it was one of the few he hadn’t touched — how cute. It’s like you wanted him to gather every garment that’s pressed against your core, that felt your slick as you touched yourself.

Gah, the thought of your fingers buried inside you, toying with your clit, playing with your tits.

Anything you do arouses him, but the thought, oh fuck him, the thought of you using yourself whilst thinking of him — like he about you — makes him feral.

Without even thinking, he plunged two digits into your pussy, silently (s)creaming at how smoothly they entered. 

Your body knows it’s mine, hahah! Fuck…you’re hot.

Pressing a thumb to your clit and his other hand over your mouth, Sol feels himself going sexdrunk, watching in slick satisfaction the squelches and pretty little Os your hole made around him, trying to crush his bones and slurp them into its warmth, as if it wanted him there forever. Not that he mind, he’d curl up inside you and live as your sentient sex toy if he had his way.

He sighs, his cock turning a brutal shade of red as his eyes observe the beauty that lay within how well cocooned he is inside you, and that’s with his fingers!

Repositioning your wrists so that he could comfortably hold them in one of his own, he redirects his attention to your pussy, thrusting with vehement pleasure into your depths, feeling your wet rapture on his skin, and his pace only increases; like fire on drywood.

The flames of his lust for you, the burning pyre of his love for you, it wasn’t enough in his eyes to see you so shortly each night. It shouldn’t be normal for him, he wanted to take you, to have and hold and love and worship and admire and caress you each day and night, for all his life until both of your ephemeral existences fell by the threads and you both lie in a shared sepulchre next to the sea.

He goes faster, his thumb circling the fleshy nub with affection, a small whimper stirring from your lips.

“Mh…C-crowe?”

Sol ceases, ears alert, eyes widened as he realised whose name you uttered.

Hah. Hahahahah. That motherfucker.

He was gonna go nice and soft on you, gonna be loving to you; but clearly, clearly you needed a little…reminder, of whose thick, fat, juicy cock was inside you.

Removing his sticky fingers, Sol tore apart your thighs, his nails etched so callously in your flesh he barely registered the groan that slipped past your mouth.

Crowe huh? My gorgeous darling, you’re so beautiful but you should know you can’t say such vile things.

He moved his cock with a tenderness towards your gaping entrance, the head brushing against your labia, a waterfall of gasps tumbling out of his mouth as the contact — evasive yet so direct — sent rushes of cold adrenaline down his spine, making him arch himself into you, searching for the closeness he’d wanted for so long.

Cupping your hand in his, he forced himself deep inside you, an onslaught of euphoria surging past any potential despondencies he might’ve had and he slammed his lips onto yours, the slapping of skin and the popping of each entry and exit his cock made out of you left him dazed in the sensual chorus of a symphony built upon ecstasy.

Even in all the times Sol’s touched himself to you, fucked himself into your undergarments or clothes, he’s never thought how immaculately well you fit around him, as if you were the warm, tight nut to his aching, etched bolt.

He was in pain, a beloved pain that came only from first love and lust, his heart screaming as he kissed your lips again and again, squeezing the life out of your hands as he muttered an obsessive, possessive manta:

I love you. I love you. I love you. 

He spent so many years waiting in eager anticipation for you to be his — to feel this sick love that he felt for you — like he was yours, and now, now he had you, claimed you. He wished Crowe was here so he could spit down his stupid throat. The idea felt tempting, maybe Hyugo could help him one more time.

But that’s for later, he’s with you now, and nothing is more invaluable to Solivan Brugmansia than you.

He couldn’t cease his gratifying motions, his suppressed moans, or the blitzes of unfiltered joy that rained down his face as he cried; fell apart both bodily and soulfully. His lips fell to your neck again and he marked you, tainted your priceless flesh with his teeth, contaging you with the plague that long since infested his mind.

His thrusts grew sloppier, his body was boiling as he stuttered out a hushed whimper:

Shit, I love you, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I love you so much-

And with a sharp bite to your shoulder, a callous bracelet of bruises to your wrists, and blood seeping from your swollen lips, Sol came deep within your heat — oceans of his desire-fueled suspension tumbling about inside you, painting you in white, his dove-white passion. For you.

Only you.

Yet as the waves of his lust left him spent and empty, he rose his sweating body above your form, tears running down his pallid face, and cupped your cheek.

He knew he should clean you up before he loses himself once more, but whilst he remained buried within you — his kingdom, filled with the seas of his undying adoration, he turned to the photo of Jericho Ichabod, yanked it off the wooden surface — and tore it to shreds.

[thevirtualvalentine]

TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS — OSAMU MIYA

content warnings: smut, mentions of voyeurism (suna is just there for the ride), possessive language and toxic behaviors, f!reader, situationships, oral (giving and receiving), mind numbing flirting & witty banter, creampie, he calls you a slut twice, you’re both kinda shitty. 🤷🏾

plot: as usual, atsumu has brought another “friends with benefits minus the friend” home. but unusually, osamu can’t stand the thought of you together, even suna agrees, right?

a/n: tv girl referenced! something evil took over me when writing this, I’m getting uninvited from so many miya birthday parties omg … T_T enjoy this 4.6k word vom.

Osamu never thought being roommates with his own twin could get any worse than when they were young boys sharing a bunk bed. Atsumu was never the type to return clothes he borrowed and certainly was the type to eat food sharpied with someone else’s name. What was Osamu’s, by extension, was Atsumu’s. He loved his brother and would yield to his selfishness because that’s just how things were.

Lately, however, Atsumu has been seeing someone, more and more frequently. Going as far as replacing his other quick fucks between practices for you. Osamu can understand why, you’re witty, unbelievably sexy, and far too sophisticated to be a fuck laid by Atsumu whenever he sends a quick “come over” text.

This matter has perplexed everyone in Atsumu Miya’s circle, questions raise on how he even managed to get your attention. “Yer all just mad it’s me she wants,” the cheeky bastard says with a toothy grin. To that, he’s not wrong.

That’s how Osamu and Suna have ended up here, with their ears to the door trying to understand what you possibly could be getting in fair exchange. “You fuckin’ love it don’t you baby,” Atsumu says to you in a tone dripping with confidence. It makes both their stomachs churn thinking of someone so beautiful with a guy like that…

“I just can’t believe this,” Suna dramatizes, he really wants to aid his friend but with each passing second of skin slapping against skin — he doesn’t know how much longer Osamu can take it. The Miyas are .. rather possessive, especially him.

“Mhm hm! Love it ‘Tsumu your dick is so good!” It’s downright pornographic how honey-sweet you sound, it just has to be fake.

“Rin, we both know Atsumu can’t fuck women that good. Tell me I still have a chance,” he’s delusional and he knows it, but the small sliver of hope keeps him desperately chasing after what’s not his.

“You’re crazy,” he snickers, almost pitying his friend for how hard he is beneath his pants. “One Miya is trouble enough, but two? She’ll be running for the hills.”

That’s all Osamu needed to set his plot into motion, he’ll just have to steal you away from him — his own brother.

It’s a quiet Sunday morning in the apartment, you roll out of Atsumu’s huge bed to make yourself coffee like you usually do when you stay over. Bless his heart but you and your newest fuck could not be any more different, he’s a late sleeper, overconfident, and to top it all off he’s not the greatest lay. You weren't sure how you ended up sleeping with a volleyball player.

But, he is undeniably handsome, which is how you found yourself in his bed. Shoving those thoughts aside, you slip into the hallway in nothing but one of his oversized shirts making your way to the kitchen. “Mornin’, coffee’s on the table.”

His voice startles you from your half-awakened stupor and you realize it’s just Atsumu. How sweet, he’s never done something like this for you before. You rub your sleepy eyes as you take a sip from the warm mug, hold on. You just left his bed, how could he be here?

Dark brown hair and cold grey eyes meet yours and instantly you know who this man is. “Oh- I’m so sorry Osamu, it didn’t register to me that you’d be here today.” You panic, trying to cover yourself up with something but he just laughs you off while drinking from his own cup.

Osamu Miya, the twin brother and (elusive) roommate of Atsumu. “You’re fine pretty, just enjoy the coffee. Let me know if you want any breakfast with it.” Once a month Osamu closes his shop in preparation for a big rice delivery from Kita, he’s just happened to catch you alone in his living room.

Involuntary heat rises to your face at his choice of words, you haven’t been formally introduced on account of the fact your relationship with his brother isn’t serious but you don’t mind his informal greeting. “So the rumors are true, you’re a chef?” you query, setting your mug down on a table closest to your seat.

God. The lilt in your voice makes him shudder and swallow hard, not to mention that the fat of your thighs peek out from under your shirt when you cross your legs. You aren’t aware of this, but that’s his shirt Atsumu has yet to return — but right now he’ll let that go — he gets to see you wear it.

“Mhm, it seems I can’t deny the allegations. Mostly onigiri though. Sorry to disappoint.” He can’t help himself but to flirt with you, his twisted infatuation morphing into a crush now that he’s immersed himself in the real thing. The soft glow of the morning light makes you appear like an angel on his couch.

“Well Mr. Chef, don’t hurt yourself trying to make bacon and eggs,” you muse. While he may be as handsome as Atsumu, he’s different; calmer, wittier, and more adept at ordinary life skills from the looks of it. This man, you reckon, is the sole reason why your sneaky link even has a proper roof over his head.

The conversation flows naturally between you as he prepares the needed ingredients. It ranges from work to his restaurant then back to you again, you find yourself laughing at his jokes and feeling much more comfortable in the apartment than before. There's a certain chemistry that seems to occur between you.

It continues like this for a while, Osamu finding reasons to be at the flat instead of his restaurant so that he may spend time with you, chatting you up over breakfast that he’s prepared. Flirtatious remarks beneath the guise of innocent conversation.

It feels wrong, coming over for one man hoping to see another the next morning, the worst of all being that they have the same face. Yet, they could not be any more contrasting. Where Atsumu forces your submission in his bedroom - Osamu rightfully earns it by tending to you. Sometimes when you look up between your lashes you wish it was dark hair you were seeing instead of platinum.

It’s another quiet Sunday morning in the Miya’s apartment. Your feet feel light as you make your way down the hallway to see him, Osamu. It’s inexplicable to you why there seems to be more cadence in your step with each strut forward, and on queue there he is. Alluring as he sits on the couch in his compression tee.

The same relaxed smile and soft tone, “Mornin’ sweetness, your coffee’s on the table.” You scoop the mug up as you plop down on the forgiving cushion next to him.

“This isn’t a sound business practice, aren’t owners supposed to open their restaurant?” You’re quick to start this morning, craving the stimulating conversation you can only find in him - like he’s some sort of haven amongst the rubble that is your situationship. The guilt does gnaw at you, making the coffee taste even more bitter than usual.

It’s what he’s been waiting for, the foundation begins to crumble and like your hero, he’ll swoop in. “Yes, but lately I’ve been hired as a private chef. The clientele is rather demanding of me if you can believe that,” he retorts while deadpanning in your direction. When he looks at you it feels like you’re bare for his eyes alone. Those cool tone grey eyes that know exactly what you are.

It leaves a lump in your throat that makes it difficult to talk. He continues between sips of his coffee, “she only requests bacon and eggs when I could give her so much more.” It makes your blood rush trying to see through his act, is it literal or innuendo? Nevertheless, you dance around each other avoiding the inevitable for a taste of limbo.

“What’s on the menu then?” You’re content to shove the ball back on his side of the court, intent on making him reveal his cards in a full flush.

The air in the room suffocates you, what seems like a quick conversation plays in slow motion. You’ve always been one to play coy, guarding your heart with quick jabs and humor. He indulges you, plays the game, the one of the cat and the mouse.

But the Miya’s are not coy, not by a long shot. “You.” It’s simple and effective, and he doesn’t miss the hitch in your breath when you realize he’s both literal and figurative.

During this long winded plot of his, Osamu has purposely avoided the topic of Atsumu all together. He doesn’t want to feed the green in his vision, doesn’t want to think of the consequences, he just wants you. Desperately.

It’s like your brain's shut down, the truth is right here in your face but it’s flustering. You’ve won, but why does it feel like you’ve lost? “I— Osamu,” you start, but you just can’t meet his gaze.

“Face it, when you’re with him you’re thinking of me.” The shame washes over you and becomes a pit of despair in your stomach. Your hands bunch the fabric of Atsumu’s shirt as you sit there and face the truth for yourself. The ugly, raring, and raw truth: that you want his hands to roam the canvas of your body, that it’s his lips you want seared into your flesh, that it’s his room you wish you were going into during the wee hours of the night. Not Atsumu’s.

He’s in front of you now, his broad shoulders casting a dubious shadow over you. “Tell me — right here n’ now — that you don’t want me and I’ll leave you alone.” But still, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. To be met with that face.

“Osamu, please.” You beg, pawing at his shirt, with tears in your eyes. “Don’t leave,” you feel pathetic, shame eating at you for acting so desperate. You’ve never behaved this way before, not genuinely at least. He drives you crazy, and you’re not willing to let it go so easily.

He thinks he’ll cum in his pants from this little display alone, your honesty and vulnerability fueling his twisted desire. He looks more like his brother than ever before, trademark wicked smirk at the feeling of victory. It’s delightful.

“Shh, pretty thing I’m not gonna quit you,” he says taking your face in his big hand. It’s hot, searing to the touch. The pad of his thumb strokes your plush cheek, “feel what you do to me.”

Osamu takes your hand in his, covering it seamlessly while dragging it up his thigh. He’s hard, incredibly so. It’s almost painful just how bricked he is beneath his pants. “See,” he helps you palm from the base all the way to the tip and you swear you’re dripping onto his couch. He groans softly feeling your delicate hands basically grope him in his shared living room, but fuck does it feel good.

He has to stop himself from grinding into your hand, frantic to finally get some reprieve to this insatiable ache for you. “So, how long,” you ask, not stopping your ministrations.

The air around you has changed, you’ve regained your composure knowing you weren’t alone in your desperation. He hisses when you cup his balls looking for a response, “how long what?”

His face is flushed a wild shade of pink and it’s only heightened by the morning light pouring in through the windows. “Now you want to play coy with me, Osamu Miya? How long have you waited to fuck me behind Atsumu’s back? Was it when he first brought me home,” your hand slides along the fabric smoothly as you rest your head against his hip.

“Maybe it was all those times you made me coffee?” You continue palming him, essentially jacking him off through his pants. “Or maybe when you were listening outside the door?” You squeeze and he lets out a choked whimper.

“Like yer any better slut, jerkin’ me off while you’re under my brothers roof.” He can’t control his tone, country accent raring to go on account of feeling cornered. You make him feel so good he doesn’t want to stop, he’s never been this hard in his life.

You hum, pleased with his response. “Such a nasty mouth for a chef. Do you speak to your customers this way?” He’s pulling himself out of his pants before you get the chance, his tip angry and red, soaked with precious pre.

It makes your mouth water, you’re eye level with his cock and all you want is to make yourself gag on it. “Nah, just the pretty ones with a bratty mouth. So show me what you can do hot stuff.”

Spitting directly on his head you drag the bulb down to his base with your tongue, watching as he shudders from your seated position. You place your hands on either side of his hips as you take him fully in your mouth, lapping the salty taste up trying to replace it with your own. “Dirty lil thing, you do this for him?”

The possession in his voice is palpable but you give him a taste of his own medicine. “Nah, only for the handsome ones who are smartasses,” releasing him from your mouth makes a pop sound. You jerk him in one hand as you belittle him, smiling with spit dribbling down your chin.

He thinks he might be in love with you, isn’t that funny. A woman who can reduce him to mere putty that’s rightfully not his, how raunchy. It makes Osamu’s balls pulse uncomfortably.

You’re a vixen, sent to entice him with your every move and fluid jerk of your wrist. He has to stop now or he’ll cum too fast, he wants this moment to last forever. The way you worship him and his cock, the way your smart mouth makes his head swim, and how warm your hands are on his bare skin.

Osamu Miya has never felt so greedy in his entire life. He hasn’t felt the need to ask anything this demanding of his brother, but what’s Atsumu’s is Osamu’s. Right? What’s a quick fuck to one is a wife to another, and with the way you’re sucking him off he might just have to put a ring on it.

Reluctantly, he pulls himself from your hot mouth before he’s able to spill down your throat. He taps the tip of his cock against your lips insultingly with a grin, “Enough, so damn desperate yer gonna choke on it.”

He’s mean but it excites you, Atsumu has never spoken to you like this only really going through the motions. You can’t help how your pussy clenches involuntarily around nothing nor can you stop the heat from rising to your face as you draw your thighs together. You sit there, staring at each other with bated breaths as the reality of what you’re doing sets in.

But if you thought that was going to deter him, you are sorely mistaken. He practically falls to his knees to get a taste of your lips against his, resting his upper body between your legs on the couch. Osamu groans tasting himself on your tongue as he invades your mouth.

You’re slobbering all over each other in a heated attempt to engulf one another. He grabs the back of your thighs while you wrap your arms around his neck. It’s like months of desperate mutual yearning have come to fruition and neither of you will let up. Not even for air.

You’re not wearing any panties and you’re sure your cunts drooling all over the place as he sucks kisses down your neck and collarbones. “Osamu—” you whine quietly, only for him to hear. His tongue licks and prods at your sensitive skin giving you goosebumps. It’s so hot and heavy you can’t make any sense of yourself just from some simple kisses.

He’s reduced you to nothing with minimal effort, wildly different from other sexual encounters you’ve had. “I need more of you Osamu, please,” and it’s the sweetest words he’s ever heard uttered. You’re absolutely perfect, just for him.

“Of course love, whatever you need.” His hands begin to spread your legs apart as another gush of slick pours out of you from the pet name alone. “I bet he doesn’t even know what to do with this, doesn’t know how to make you feel good like I can.”

If that’s a promise, you need him to fulfill it. His words are heavy in your ears as you watch him take his shirt off, they weigh in your chest threatening to drag you down with him. He spreads your puffy folds apart with his thumb, getting a good look at you and letting out coos of praise. “Yer so fuckin wet I can see it,” he dips into your warmth only slightly, marveling at the slick that coats his fingers.

He eyes them and you try to stop him before he does what you think he’s gonna do. “Don’t do that, it’s nasty,” you say trying to grab his hand.

But he swats you away, appraising the translucent liquid by spreading his fingers apart before sticking them in his mouth. “Mhm, n’ you taste as good as you look.”

He loves this look on you, the horror written all over your face as he sucks them clean. A chef never wastes a proper meal, and he’s still fuckin hungry.

Osamu yanks you down the couch to be as close as possible, he can feel the heat radiating from your cunt with just his face above it. He can tell you’ve never had someone properly eat you out by the way you’re so scared to let him even play around with you, and that lights a fire under his ass.

He dives tongue first into your folds, purposely avoiding the spot you need him the most. The moan you let out is a stark comparison to anything he’s heard from you before, but he can’t have you spoiling the fun already.

So he’ll kiss you instead, forcing you to taste yourself and groan into his maw while his fingers work magic in your cunt. Your nails find purchase in the skin of his back as he holds your leg open with one hand and slides his middle finger inside you with another. He pulls back, gauging your reaction for any discomfort as he works it in and out of your sopping heat.

“So messy for me baby, god I love it,” but he’s not looking at you, he’s looking at where his finger slips inside you; making you watch as his knuckles disappear before sliding in another.

The second digit proving to be a stretch for you as you cry into his mouth about how good it feels, “so good ‘samu, just a little faster.”

That’s when he curls them upwards, toying the rougher patch of your g-spot with the pads of his middle and ring finger. The force at which you try to close your legs and dig your nails into his skin lets him know he’s in the right place. “Gotta stay quiet sweetheart, can ya do that for me?”

You don’t know how you could be, with the way he’s listening to your body he’s managed to play its perfect tune. But you nod, covering your mouth with your hand obediently as he descends between your legs again.

Finally, he pays mind to your puffy clit. Giving it kitten licks while his fingers are still making a sloppy mess of you down below. He groans sending vibrations through you in the act of suckling your bud between his lips.

It’s muffled, but he can hear you chanting his name as he throughly wrecks you with just his mouth and hands. It causes white hot pleasure to settle in the belly of you as you writhe and try and to run away from it. He won’t let you, forcing your legs apart even wider.

You’re cumming on his fingers before you even know it. Leaving red welts on his shoulder as you go limp on the couch. “Just keep cumming for me pretty. Let go,” his low calm voice centers you when you begin to twitch against your will.

You’ve rarely ever truly came when fucking Atsumu, but Osamu has you pleading for mercy as he thumbs your clit through the aftershocks.

He lets you catch your breath, helping you remove the oversized shirt from over your head. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” he says while thumbing your chin, and kissing your tits tenderly. His eyes reassure you from between the valley of your breasts.

You’re appreciative of his masked concern, “then stop talking, and start doing.” The fight in you is exactly why he wanted you in the first place.

“To think this gorgeous pussys been wasted,” he tsks. “Don’tcha worry yer pretty head baby, I’ll fuck that attitude outta ya.” He stands up, removing the rest of his clothing and putting you on the couch how he wants you. Obviously, he was going to go for missionary, all so that you could see him in the act of claiming you as his own.

You know you’re in trouble with Osamu when he slips into his country accent, it’s involuntary but it’s his true nature. You’re placed onto your back by his big arms, most likely from carrying heavy bags of rice everyday at his job. You can’t help but ogle at the thin layer of sweat that coats him, and he smiles. So charming.

He begins by lining himself with your entrance, teasing the ring of muscle with the tip of his cock. It makes you whine, needy for more but he won’t just take you. No, he uses your pussy to lube himself up. “For fucks sake ‘Samu just put it in please,” you think using a nickname on him will work like it does with Atsumu.

But Osamu is in control of himself and his desires (for the most part), he’ll rut his hips into your sticky labias, running over your sensitive clit with the underside of himself. “So needy, jus’ watch” he tilts your chin downwards to make you gaze at where your bodies nearly meet.

He’s going to break you before anything else. The sight is turning you on beyond belief, his body tensing and releasing with every slow drawl of his lazy hips. “How bad d’ya want me? Tell me n’ I’ll fuck you slut.”

The way in which he carries himself warns you to not mess with him, submit. It’s all in his face, the restraint, the power, the control. You want to break down and beg him for everything so that he may see you for what you truly are in those grey eyes. “I think about you every time I come over here, every time you’ve poured me coffee or made my eggs I’ve wanted you. ‘Samu I need you s’bad please..”

You feel him physically twitch and groan lowly at your confession. He wasn’t expecting all that but it certainly does stroke his ego. Osamu pinches your nipple slightly as he grins. “Yeah baby, you wish it was me touchin’ you,” its rhetorical. He’ll reward you though, ‘fer bein so damn good’.

He feels heavenly entering you, it makes your toes curl when you hear him sigh into a slow pace. He takes his time with you, working you up to fully enjoy your experience with him. “You feel so good, fuck.. n’ your pussy’s so warm,” he says while tightening the grip on the back of your knees.

Everything is hitting you at once and it’s getting hotter by the second, your heavy breaths hitting his face as you accept him in full. It’s a snug fit and the curve of him feels just right in your walls, fuck you need him closer.

“I want you,” is all that comes out between soft whimpers. And he obliges, folding you in half and guiding your arms to hang around his shoulders. He feels so deep inside you that you can’t even see straight. His face is red with his brows drawn together in pleasure.

You try and keep quiet but the muffled sound of skin against skin keeps ringing in your ears along with the slosh of your cunt. “Lettin’ me pound you raw too, should just let me have ya. I know I’m fuckin’ you better than him.”

His words are like fire on your skin, burning you from the inside out. Your walls flutter and convulse around him as he snickers. It registers that you can feel all of him and you whine. The flood gates threaten to spill.

“I— Osamu s’good, oh my god!” He revels in the fact it almost sounds like you’re in pain from how much satisfaction you’re feeling, because of him. It’s his name you’re wailing, not Atsumu’s.

You dig your nails deeper, certain to draw blood as you're needy more of him. The band in you is threatening to snap. He’s close too, quickening the rate at which he barrels into you. Reaching deeper and deeper as he makes eye contact with you. It’s so intimate that you feel yourself succumbing.

“Where do you wan’ it baby,” his eyes are glossed over with lust and his voice thick with desire. There’s only one place you want him, inside.

It’s like music to his ears, he’s spilling his seed in hot thick ropes as he stills himself balls deep inside you. You unravel, biting your lip as you squeeze him tighter than a vice, he’s groaning and shallowly pumping into your shaking form.

You never knew missionary on a sofa could feel so fucking good, he looks at you with such care in his eyes that you melt.

Osamu helps you clean up, apologizing for the frothy ring of cum on his base and the mess that pours out of you. He’s "a sucker for a cream pie" is what he tells you.

Things between you couldn’t remain as they were, you both knew that know after you practically devoured each other right down the hall from Atsumu’s room.

He brings you to his space, letting you shower and wipe yourself down (not without groping your curves between steps). You talk about what you should say or how to even go about it over breakfast he made, but this time you're wearing his shirt.

It’s safe to say Atsumu was not pleased losing one of his favorite fucks, but in some weird way he’s not completely pissed. He’s never seen Osamu so fucking selfish n' greedy before, so he must be pretty serious about you. In time he’ll forgive him, even swing by the restaurant to see you two.

“How’s it feel havin’ my seconds,” he’ll taunt behind your back to Osamu when you’re not around. Jutting his elbow into his brothers side.

Osamu rolls his eyes, “still bitter it’s my cock she’s begging for every night I see. Get better soon.” He knows you’re happier with him, sending a hardened look at Atsumu.

They both smile as you approach the table with snacks, dropping whatever argument as you greet them. “Hello Miya and better Miya.”

Osamu snickers, kissing your left hand with his engagement ring on it. Atsumu just grumbles under his breath. “Hello Mrs. Miya,” they both say in unison.

[beenbaanbuun]

halloween w/ choi jongho

so bunny found yet another thing to hyperfixate over… this is sooooo my-older-brothercore of me🧍🏻‍♀️

genre - nsfw

warnings - switch!jongho, switch!reader, bunny!reader, ghost!jongho, groping, desperate!jongho, mention of creampies… i think that’s it

not proof read (it’ll do it later but i’m a lil busy now!!)

“i hate you,” you splutter out as your boyfriend struts into the room, draped in his halloween costume that he’d spent so long trying to keep a secret. you hadn’t understood why he’d kept the idea under lock and key when you’d been so eager to show him your pastel pink bunny costume with the ears and tail to match. the dress you picked out was just on the sexy side of innocent, and jongho had fucked you in it the very same day you showed it to him. he’d been so eager to get his hands all over your costume, and yet you hadn’t been allowed a single glimpse of his.

you can see why.

the tactical gear fits him well, covering his body in a thick layer of padding that you want nothing more than to feel pressed against your spine as he fucks you from behind. it’s surprisingly realistic, from the thick khaki kevlar to the fake magazines in each of the pockets; even the name tag boasts an all too familiar callsign. you’re barely able to rip your eyes away from those five letters to look at his face, covered with just a balaclava for now, the rest of his face covering gripped tightly in his hand.

but even with his everything but his eyes covered you can see the smirk he wears clear as day. his pupils glisten with mischief and one of his eyebrows is cocked just enough that the thick, painted material covers it. the bastard, you think to yourself. of course the cocky little shit would go and do something like this.

“you don’t like it?” as much as you’d like to hear that thick mancunian accent come from jongho’s mouth, you’re happy he doesn’t attempt it. it probably would’ve put you off a little; given you the ick to end all icks. besides, his own voice is far prettier to you, the soft cadence of his teasing heading straight to your pussy, which clenches around nothing. what did you do in your past life to be cursed with such an evil, incredibly attractive man as a boyfriend.

“you know i like it,” you spit, petulant and irritable as you fold your arms tightly over your chest, “and i hate you for doing this to me!”

“doing what? making you wet?” jongho smirks, just watching the way his words make your brain short circuit. he’s cocky enough without the costume, and yet somehow it’s made him worse. you suppose it’s character accurate in a way; you can only hope he doesn’t start making awful puns halfway through the night.

“you’re annoying,” you roll off of the bed, pretty pink thigh high’s hitting the floor with a thud as you manoeuvre your way over to the dresser where your heals lie. normally you’d rather die than go to a party in anything but your comfiest of sneakers, but the grimy brown shoes would clash horribly with your outfit. the pink mary janes fortunately aren’t too uncomfortable, and you suppose you have a big strong man to prop yourself up on if needs be. giving him the satisfaction of you clinging to him all night would surely make him unbearable, but you can cope with a few hours of over the top flirting if it means your feet are rescued from a grizzly fate.

you bend over to fiddle with the buckle, unsurprised by the gloved hand that makes its way to the swell of your ass. the skirt has already risen above the crease in your thigh, but thick fingers push it higher, desperate to get a glimpse as the pretty pink panties you’re wearing underneath. there’s no doubt in your mind that he can see the proof of what his costume has done to you; the little wet patch that sits at your crotch feels particularly cold as he reveals it to the room. there’s a low grunt from him as his fingers press into your exposed flesh and you can’t help but swell with pride knowing that he isn’t the only one able to perform some sort of sexual-tension based torture.

you stay in that position for just a second longer than you need to before shooting up to stand once more. his hand remains steady against your ass, the muscles in his arm tensing and relaxing as he kneads it like some sort of stress ball. part of you is tempted to see where he takes this; to see whether he’ll push you over the dresser and fuck his cock into your awaiting hole. the other part of you wants nothing more than to push every single one of his buttons. a couple of seconds pass as the two sides of your brain go to battle, and as you push his hand away with a giggle, careful to brush your own fingers against the tent in his trousers, you can tell that the latter has won.

“we have a party to get to, right?” every ounce of innocence you can muster finds its way into your voice as you turn to face him. there’s a hint of trouble behind the thin veil of excitement the words wear, one that you can tell by the look in his eyes that he hears clear as day. good; it was never your intention to hide your plan from him. you want him to know that you’re up to no good. to have to sit at that party and watch you tease him over and over again with no way to fix it. you want the tension to build until there’s no other option than for him to take you into the bathroom, or out front to his car and fuck you into next week. you can already imagine the way his voice cracks as he comes up with some unbelievable excuse as to why the two of you have to leave early, the way his hands cover his boner as he stutters out apologies to his dear friends.

its almost too delicious.

“don’t you just want to stay home, honey?” you can hear the desperation in his voice already; it shoots straight to your core, “don’t you wanna take advantage of this costume?”

“don’t you want to show it off?” you counter, “surely you didn’t put all that effort into becoming ghost just to rile me up, right? i know yunho will be gushing over it, baby. don’t you want to soak up their praise a little?” you lay it on thick, blinking up at him with a twinkle in your eye as his adam’s apple bobs up and down in his throat. the poor thing looks desperate, bless him. you lean in a little closer, watching as his eyes shift down to your cleavage; it makes you feel like you have all the power in the world in the palm of your hands.

“i’d rather soak up your praise,” he says as he reaches a hand out to where your nipple pokes through the soft material of your dress. you push it away, lacing your fingers with his own gloved ones and giving him a reassuring squeeze. you hope the tiny action is enough to let him know that he will get what he wants… eventually. “please baby,” his voice is as strained as the cock in his pants. he sounds beautiful, “let me fuck you, won’t you?”

“and here i thought soldiers were supposed to be patient?” you purr, “be good and i’ll let you cum inside.”

[clovesnz]

don’t really know how to write smut (finally edited this)

it's very heterosexual and also there is no actual spelled out sneezing. lots of nosefucky and snotfuckery. very self inserty for me. lots of uhhh dry humping? idk guys.

“Oh my god you can’t just sit there in front of me like that my horny brain is going to actually fucking explode”

He sits at the edge of the bed. She is leaned against the headboard, blushing in spite of herself as she watches him sniffle and scrunch his nose up and down, over and over, in an obvious exaggeration of what are, to be fair, very real allergy symptoms. He lets out a long, labored sniff and scrubs at his nose vigorously.

“What? What am I doing?”

His eyes are twinkling, mischievous. He’s watching her practically squirm. She can't take her eyes off his nose. It’s glowing pink from all the rubbing and irritation, and as she watches, he pinches it between two fingers and locks eyes with her, one eyebrow cocked in amusement, and wrings his hand back and fourth, producing an obnoxious, messy squelching noise.

“Stopppp oh my god you fucking evil bastard” 

“Whatt why am I evil?” 

He puts on an ironic grin of feighned innocence, eyes wide, lip slightly curled. 

“I can’t help it. It’s just…” another sniff. Another theatrical scrub.

“...my nose”

“Oh my GOD no stop it”

She’s waving her hands in his direction, feebly attempting to shew his hands off of his nose. He really is laughing at her now, the fucking asshole, and she starts to laugh too. But he’s not gonna get away with it. She scoots towards him on the bed. They’re both completely cracking up now, and between breaths of laughter she struggles to grab hold of his hands, still going at his nose. 

"You’re so…mean this is not…not…okay just…get...no no no, uh-uh… there”

She’s half on top of him, and has managed after a bit of a struggle to get his hands pinned behind his back, away from his itching nose. There. No more teasing. They are both grinning silly at each other, their faces close. Close enough that she can see a little dampness around his nostrils. But just as she’s going to kiss him, arms still holding him firmly in place, his face changes. His upper brow wrinkles, and he looks genuinely panicked enough that she loosens her grip in concern. She is about to ask what’s wrong, when he tilts his head up and takes in a sudden breath, and she realizes, completely entranced, that he’s fighting the urge to sneeze. 

His teasing facade has completely disappeared, replaced with a frantic sort of embarrassed concern.

“Shit, I swear this wasn’t…I didn’t…”

It’s like she sees it in slow motion. He brings one hand to her side to brace himself, leans the other way, takes two more wavering breaths, and then lets out a harsh, wet sneeze into the back of his wrist. She feels her stomach drop, down, a sharp ache that pangs harder when he lowers his hand to reveal two strings of clear snot running from his nose. Holy shit. Her head rushes, and her heart races, and she just…stares, frozen.

“Sorry, does that make it un-sexy?”

He cringes down at his hand, face full of the self disgust of someone who's body has made a mess that they can’t control.

“What, no! I…sorry,”  

She doesn’t know how to explain, but she also doesn’t want him feeling that way, because god, she would watch him do that all day if she could. She tries anyways,

“It got a little too real and my brain kinda short-circiuted”

But he just looks more concerned, for her now instead of himself. Fuck why can’t she get the words out right.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Too real how?" He looks down at his hand again, deciding that must be the culprit.

“Here I’ll go get something to -”

He makes to slide off the bed and grab the tissues on his desk, but she tugs him back to her by his shirt.

“No! No wait, please.” 

He turns for her, and lets her take his hands, looking back down, eyes searching. She takes a calming breath, but before she can try to make words out of the paralyzing waves of desire coursing through her, another drip of snot slides out of his left nostril, and he winces, “Ugh, sorry,” and lets go of her and reaches a hand to swipe at it. But now her brain is working enough to send signals to her body, at least, and she stops his arm, firm but more gently than when he was doing it to tease her.

“...no.”

He obeys, and lets her pull him down to her level again. He’s holding her gaze, curious. Waiting. For her to explain, to communicate. Her whole body is shaking, just a little.

“Just…”

She reaches one hand up and cups his cheek for a moment, letting her thumb graze the very edge of the sparkling wetness covering his upper lip. He accepts the touch, leaning into it,  but his eyes are still searching.

“Wh-”

Before he can ask, she lifts her other hand, and gently, methodically, the way someone might delicately run their finger over a beautiful piece of jewelry, touches the pooling snot with the tip of her pointer finger. She breathes in and shudders, her whole body zinging and tingling at the feeling of it on her fingers, and that’s when she can see it click for him.

“....oh.”

She takes another shuddering breath. She wants to do more, wants to swipe at his nose, to cover her fingers in his snot, to make him blow into them, to have it in her mouth, but it’s all so much and it’s so…it’s so odd, it’s got to be so add, to him, and now she’s too embarrassed to keep going but also too captivated to stop and she drops her hand a lets out a whimper of frustration that is maybe actually just neediness and he looks at her, just as enthralled. He’s not laughing anymore, he is all attention, his own breaths picking up pace with hers.

“Yeah?”

He’s asking her without asking. Yeah, you like me like this? You like all of it?

“....um. Yeah.”

His eyes sparkle, fiery and exited

“Oh, fuck, okay. What do you…what do you want me to do?”

It’s such an open-ended question, and a dozen deeply held fantasies, the kinds of things she never thought she'd ask of anyone, flood through her mind. But the thought of speaking to them is so scary, it’s so ingrained in her head that she’ll gross him out, that he’ll find it all too weird, and she feels that rising panic again, and it makes her want to stop all of this and curl up in a ball and hide.

“I’m..oh my god no I’m embarrassed”

She breaks away and falls back onto the bed, covering her face defensively, her cheeks prickling and burning in mortification. But he just follows, propping himself up over her, and some of her embarrassment vanishes as he lowers himself against her, because holy shit, apparently it’s not just her who is wildy, embarrassingly turned on right now. He leans down to one of her ears, and she feels the dampness of his upper lip pressed, purposefully, almost nuzzled, against her cheek as he whispers, not teasing this time but tantalizing, serious, like he’s daring her:

“Stop being embarrassed”

And it’s too much, he’s too good like this, she can’t…she wants it too badly. She groans and rocks into him, and when he gasps a little in response she catches his breath in her lips. She feels her whole body tingle and sparkle as she realizes she can taste the bit of salt still on his lips. She can’t help it - she whines, and thrusts against him again, and kisses him deeper, and steals herself and lets herself nip at his upper lip, and god when she does it she feels it, like really feels it, the snot smeared onto her own lip now. And she wants to do it again, wants it in her mouth, wants to have it, his cute red nose and his snot, so she kisses him there, right under his nose, and she feels him smile beneath her but he doesn’t flinch away, and it’s not enough so she does it again, and when he brings her back to his mouth it's encouraging, and kind of messy, and he breaks away by running kisses down her chin until his dripping nose is pressed up against her mouth. Now she’s not thinking, she’s not thinking at all she’s just wanting and so she nips at the tip of his nose and oh god she likes it so much, so she does it again but lets her tongue feel it too, and he just nuzzles into it so she lets her mouth explore. Nipping and his nostrils, gently squeezing them together with her teeth, running her tongue up his septum and around one nostril and then the other, peppering his upper lip with generous, licking kisses until all the snot there is gone, so she follows it’s path, slipping her tongue ever so slightly up to one nostril. She feels his nose twitch as she does it, and it sends a thrill through her body so she does it more, flicking it back and fourth at the opening of it. He gasps,

“You’re gonna make me…oh fuck I’m…”

And he leans to the side, disengaging to let out a forceful sneeze into his elbow. He stays turned away, frozen with his face turned upwards, building to another one.

“Hey - ”

She reaches for his crooked elbow, gently bringing it down from his face, and he catches her meaning and turns back to her right as it hits him, pitching forward into her chest with the force of the sneeze that spills out of him. Strings of snot wet the front of her t-shirt and she feels her hips thrust reactively at the pleasure of it.

“Fuck me, oh my sweetheart…” she coos, and he whimpers a little at the pet name and lets out snuffling little squeek as she presses into him harder, bold enough now to tenderly, adoringly swipe at the snot running from his twitching nose. 

“Oh..fuck, oh my darling, can you do that again?”

And he does, bending forward into her again with the force of another sneeze, and holy shit she doesn’t know if her cunt can take it she's aching so badly but he’s so preoccupied, hitching and blinking and twitching, and when he starts getting close again he leans into her again but she doesn’t want to stop watching this time so she asks,

“Hey…look at me”

And he does, obedient, meeting her gaze and keeping it until his eyes are forced shut and he sneezes, barely turning away this time, misting her face in spittle and sniffling helplessly at the aftermath. 

“Bless you”

She gasps, and his face is already crumpling again but he keeps himself level with her, and this time the spray is thicker and hits her face and god the way his whole body tenses and releases and his cock presses against her with the force of it and if he doesn’t start touching her she going to have to start touching herself.

“Uhhnn, bless you. Fuck, I-I can’t…this is…fuck”

He grins at her loss of composure, teasing again even as he fights back another sneeze, and she gasps and cries out a little as he moves against her, wrapping her legs around his waist. He laughs a little,

“Y-yeah?”

She just nods, yes, thrusting harder to emphasize the point, and god this is stupid why don’t they have their fucking clothes off already, and he’s still sniffling and hitching but he props himself on one arm and reaches to the button of her corduroy jeans and she can’t bare to wait for him to fumble with them one handed so undoes them herself and and slides them off, and he groans a little between hitches when he slides his hand under the waistband of her boxers and lets out a breath, like he's relieved to finally be there. She sucks in a breath as he begins to he tease the opening of her cunt, infuriatingly. She whines in protest and he obliges quickly, slipping two fingers inside of her and pulsing softly against her, all the while still hitching and blinking, building up to sneeze again, and she realizes after a few moments, in complete amazement, that he’s going at her harder the closer he gets to sneezing. She gasps,

“Keep… keep doing that”

And he does, faster and faster and then pulling up with his whole arm as his body shakes with it, spraying her in snot and spit and she cries out and begs, cause he’s got her so close and she needs more but he’s slowed again. He's slowed and she’ll have to wait, have to wait for the tickle to built up because that’s how this game works now. But two can play at that, so she reaches for the back of his neck, a little forceful in her want but he lets her, and she flicks her tongue against the opening of his nostril, fast, like she did before, and he matches the rhythm of it with his fingers. It’s getting faster, and she’s so fucking close with him on her and inside of her and under her tongue and she’s breathing so heavily it’s hard to keep her tongue moving but she does until he pulls back, only slightly, still going at her faster than her fucking vibrator, and his eyes flutter shut and oh god she wants it, wants to feel it, to hear it to see it to taste it and she does, right as she hits her peak, screaming out as he erupts once more, the spray landing against her open mouth, and she grabs for him desperately, ravenously, and kisses him, deep and sticky as she rides out her orgasm on his fingers.

**************

Epilogue: he pulls off her shirt and blows his nose in it and then she makes him do the same thing with his own shirt and then his pants and then her underwear and then she gets on top of him and fucks him while he sneezes all over himself but she stops before he cums and finishes him off with her hands so that she can see him make that much more of a mess of himself and then she takes him to the shower to get cleaned off and the sneezing has died down but they fuck again in the shower anyways and then she lovingly rubs soothing lotion around his irritated nostrils and forces him to take the Claratin she bought him because the whole thing started when he ran out and forgot to buy more. The end.

**************

anyways so yeah. sorrry for the weird formatting. ya girl used to read a novel every week back in high school but still doesn't know how to structure dialogue. if u read this i love you <333

[alicerosejensen]

Would you by any chance do another Leon head canon with his college girlfriend? The other ones you made were super cute. Enjoy the rest of your day!

I'm happy to share headcanons so here's another serving.

Jealous leon like a little warning.

- You don't have a problem with alcohol, but when your friends invited you to a noisy party, you couldn't (and didn't want to) refuse them.

- "Don't you think your dress is too short?" Leon will be throwing glances at you while you preen in front of the mirror. It doesn't look like he's worried or jealous.

- Leon probably wanted to spend the evening in peace and your company, but you already had other plans.

- The dress may indeed have been a little shorter than what you usually wear but, "honey, it's a PARTY!"

- With a bunch of horny guys who want to lift that very dress on your hips.

- Leon won't say it out loud.

- Get ready for frequent calls and messages?

"Are you all right?"

"No one comes over?"

"Mind your drinks, please"

"Do I need to come get you?"

- Perhaps his guardianship would tire you and you would prefer not to respond to messages. For God's sake don't turn off your phone!

- You did it anyway... congratulations, you're going done...

- You have very beautiful and expensive clothes, your friends think you have a sugar daddy or something.

- Even if you say it's not. It's just that Leon prefers to give quality things.

- You have a friend who likes you for a long time. You may not know this, but the alcohol he drinks will help him confess his feelings to you.

- You're too drunk already, plus the music is loud. Perhaps you will hear something else or you do not want to understand what he said, so you will agree with him.

- The evil dog Leon is already here and he is ready to kick someone's ass if he sees that you have been harmed.

- But you are having a nice conversation with your friend, whose hand is brazenly on your waist.

- What the hell are you wearing in those revealing sexy stockings that peek out from under your boiler dress"?

- Now Leon is really jealous.

- Intoxicated with alcohol, you agree to dance with your friend some obscene dances, laughing merrily.

- You're really having fun, but not Leon. You never gave him a reason to doubt your loyalty, so when your friend's hands go down to your ass, you push him hard.

- "Take it easy! I already have a boyfriend."

- The moment when someone grabs the poor guy by the collar and pushes him away from you goes too fast. Leon grabs your hand and you run after him almost on wadded legs.

- "Why the hell didn't you return my calls?"

- The brain does not fully understand where Leon came from. But the people around you make way for you that you are gone.

- Leon's hand painfully holds your wrist. He doesn't want to hurt you in any way, he was just too scared.

- Who knows what that bastard had in mind?

- You are drunk and the heels on your feet are too high, which is why you constantly stumble.

- Leon is angry. Very. He's pissed off by those lustful looks at your breasts, so he'll put his leather jacket on you. And zip it up.

- You spend the whole way home in silence.

- You know it's best not to touch Leon right now. He recently returned from a long mission that didn't go too well, and the last thing he wanted to worry about was you at this fucking party.

- You put your hand on his thigh, but he didn't react.

- The fresh air helped sober up a bit.

- "Do you have any idea what dirty intentions that bastard might have had for you?!"

- Your carelessness sometimes frightens him.

- At home, Leon himself will knock over several glasses of whiskey into himself.

- He will probably be offended for two days. Stingy phrases, detachment, Leon just infuriates that you allowed yourself to behave like that! He understands that you're too young to stay at home all the time, but damn god, you almost got groped...and...Leon is afraid to say the word.

- What if you were raped?

- It was hard for Leon to say those words. The very thought that you have been harmed causes him unimaginable pain. He will hate himself if anything happens to you.

- Just be careful. Leon has lost too many good people and all he wants to do is take care of you.

- Leon loves you with all his heart and is ready to fight for you day and night with any B.O.W, but he really doesn't understand why you turned off your fucking phone.

- Perhaps it really has become too much for you...

- But you love him too. Just that evening you allowed yourself too much. "Seriously Leon, I wouldn't cheat on you with my college guy."

- Leon believes you.

- You're going to have a pretty rough night. Leon will remind you that you are HIS woman, leaving hickeys that are hard to hide. He will tease a lot and whisper various obscenities, reminding you of who you belong to. It's actually damn hot!

- Don't even think about getting out of bed after having sex with him. Leon will tire you out so you can't get up, but he will still carry you to the bathroom and bring you a sandwich if you get hungry. (* whispers* he is not only the god of sex, but also the god of care)

- He likes to kiss your thighs.

- You'll probably be less likely to go to these parties, but Leon never forbids you anything.

- Just keep your phone close!

- He will take you on his vacation.

- And your sexy dresses are just for him

[misseviehyde]

BIG CUCK

"OMG - dude, our bully has turned me into a perfect physical copy of your hot girlfriend Jenna. Why the fuck would he do that to me? I'm your best-friend and he does this to me?

He must be up to something evil. That asshole is so manipulative and evil. He loves to play games.

He's been trying to get Jenna to sleep with him for months but she loves you too much. We can both see that she has real chemistry with Aaron and she's come so close to fucking him, but her love and loyalty to you is the only thing stopping her.

Now he's used the magic remote to copy her exactly onto me. I have her tits, her long blonde hair... even her sexy tan. Oooh shit, that's not all I have. This thing has copied her personality and desires onto me - they're starting to catch up with me. I can feel my mind changing.

Dude, I feel so fucking pretty and spoiled. My skin feels like buttermilk and my body is so tiny and perfect. Ooooh, I feel like totally feminine and girly. Jenna's personality fits like soooo nicely over my own.

I can even feel an echo of her love for you growing in my heart. Oh my God, I fucking love you. I love you so damn much.

Oh shit, here comes Aaron. Don't worry baby, I won't let that asshole hurt you.

What the fuck do you want you bastard? Why have you turned me into Jenna?

You're going to make him enjoy being a cuckold so that he'll encourage the real Jenna to fuck you? No... that's evil, and it won't work. Jenna loves him and so do I.

What do you mean you're gonna corrupt me so I love you instead and I become an evil whore? Nooooo, don't ugghhh point that remote at me... ahhhh fuck what are you doing?

Ugggh dude, you have to get out of here... he's melting my brain... making me uuuuuhhhhhh slutty and mean. I... I... I'm trying to fight it, but it feels so good. I can feel Jenna's love for you being, uuuugghhh twisted and corrupted into something wicked.

Ohhhh fuck, yessss, I like boys. Nnnn nooo I like MEN. Alpha Men. N...nooo that isn't right is it? Mmmmh, it feels kinda right though.

Ohhhh no he's making me bad and I can't ughhhh fight it. Twisting my sexuality and my mind. He's making me into evil-Jenna and I like it.

Mmmmh, yessss... only big cock will satisfy me. Only bullies make me WET. I'm a bully too? I am? Oh yeah, of course I am. I love being better than other girls. Yessss, I'm a fucking BITCH. I fucking dominate other girls. I dress like a fucking bitch, I AM a BITCH!

Hahah, ohhhh fuck this feels good. To have this smoking hot body... tight and smooth, feminine and powerful. To know men lust and desire after me. No one can understand why I'm dating such a pathetic loser for a boyfriend. Even I can't unders...

I... oh yeah of course. I date you because you're pathetic and weak. You're SO in love with me and think I'm an angel. I use you to get what I want. You pay for my clothes and my makeup. You give me lifts and cook me dinner. You even do my homework for me. But the truth is I fucking h... hate you.

Ugggh, noooo that isn't mmmmmh right, I lll..lllov... NO. NO, I can't fight it. It feels too good when I say it. I... I HATE you. I fucking hate what a weak pathetic loser you are, but it makes me wet to date you and enslave you and fuck other men. Better men.

Men like Aaron. Yeah, that's right. I like his big fat cock and his bullying attitude. He turns me on... he makes me wanna be a slut for him.

And you like it too don't you loser? You know I'm not the real Jenna, but this is how she really feels. Deep down inside she despises you and uses you to get what she wants. But really she wants to fuck other boys and you want her too.

The thought of being a cuck excites you doesn't it? Of kneeling between my legs and licking Aaron's cum out of my tight pussy. You wanna watch him fuck me. You wanna see me fucking scream and cum all over his cock.

He can pound me in ways you never could. You can only last a few seconds inside me, he can go for hours. HAHA ohhhh fuck yes, it makes me so horny to be evil to you. I love what a bitch I am.

Now then loser are you ready to watch Aaron put his strong hands all over my tight body. He's gonna bend me over, pull my panties to one side and slide that big dick into my tight little pussy.

I'm gonna fucking ride him for hours, pumping my pussy up and down on his cock. I'm gonna suck his balls and swallow his cock deep down my pretty throat. I'm gonna make you watch as he fucks me doggy, then lets me ride cowgirl. Every position, every possible type of sex - he's gonna show you how much better he is than you.

When he's done and I'm dripping with his cum, you'll never forget how hot I look - how happy and satisfied. When you see the real Jenna you'll not be able to stop thinking about her covered in Aaron's spunk. You'll do anything to help her become like me. You want to see the evil-Jenna take control.

This is the beginning of your addiction. Now get ready loser - because it's time for Jenna to get railed.

I can't wait for you to become a big cuck as I take this big cock...

[see-arcane]

Well. I just read the Robert Eggers Nosferatu (2024) script in its nascent 2016 form. Quick and haunted thanks to @nosferattusx2 for making me aware of its existence. It’s here on the Internet Archive if you want to give it a look yourselves.

I don’t know if it’s legit, but it seems precariously close to the trailers. Even if it is the real thing, it’s also an eight-year-old rendition of the script, so there’s no guarantee of it being an exact mirror of what will hit theaters. That being said?

It’s. A lot.

SPOILERS BELOW

I won’t regurgitate the whole thing here, just the main bits that stood out to me for better or worse:

For a guy who says he's very against the sexy romantic vampire trope, Eggers makes sure to have everyone getting scared and horny over Orlok at every opportunity. I will give him grudging kudos for not confining this strictly to Ellen or otherwise Just the Ladies~. The thing opens on Knock stroking himself to the concept of the guy and Thomas gets his own erotic/assault-flavored attack from Orlok at the castle with future allusions framing it in a distinctly sexual framework. Ellen is set up as the ~darkly tempted Eve to Orlok’s Adam~ but it’s not aggressively mega-hetero about it. Progress?

Thomas arrives in Orlok territory and immediately gets swarmed and pickpocketed by smelly-masculine Romani people (referred to strictly by the g word through the script) bar the one pretty young teenage girl one who we later get to see riding naked on a horse because only naked virgin girls can lead the group to hidden vampires for their destruction. Yeah.

…

Bobby Egg, I can get behind the VVitch using seductive evil weirdness and I see why mermaids would swim around topless, but. What the fuck? And also follow-up what the fuckery to the whole portrayal of these guys, period? On that note.

Here we see the first example of Thomas being Assigned Twink at Comparison to All the Other Men. Eggers frames him as insecure beside the masculine Romani and has a future character refer to him as a ‘dandy’ (despite that being a term reserved for men who were well-off, not just effeminate/less than manfully manful). To Bobby Egg’s slight credit, Thomas is not portrayed negatively or milksop-shaped because of this; it’s just. Kind of there. All the time.

Count Orlok’s description isn’t bad. Very ominous, very classic gothic-supernatural. I do appreciate that he’s explicitly given more corpse-like attributes, making him seem like a mobile cadaver more than anything else. And Eggers does keep him creepy—no stealthy Count Fuckula spit-shining on him.

Shovel scene sort of happens as an original Dracula nod, but with no payoff. An attempt was made and thrown away.

Ellen. Oh, Ellen. Such a double-edged piece of work here. On the one hand, this version of the script implies that she isn’t doing the classic bastardized Mina thing of deciding her lame lameo human husband isn’t good enough for her and she needs herself a REAL MAN. There’s a lot of the original Thomas and Ellen’s genuine love and regard shown in the couple…

…up to a point. Eggers writes them a very very ugly and basically wholly OOC argument to do with Thomas claiming he wed her out of pity and saying she ought to have been sent to a madhouse when she was young, which itself was a follow-up to Ellen yelling that Orlok’s work is all his fault in a weirdly victim-blamey way and a scene that felt less like a badly done seduction and more like she was trying to actually assault him. They seemingly both reconcile after this, but like…what the entire hell?

Okay, to get this out of the way—I think Eggers is trying to lean hard into the ‘well in the actual time and place of the story things would be so grimdark and depressing, so it has to be nasty even between the loving main couple, and it adds to the horror-misery of it all, and it makes Ellen’s dark temptation~ more reasonable!’ thing. We can see a lot of that in how he sets Ellen up to have a history of dark thoughts, a lot of stigma surrounding her sanity/insanity, and there’s some very cruel medical ‘treatment’ she gets subjected to during her fits while waiting for Thomas and/or Orlok to arrive. Naturally those fits are all sexual/orgasmically twitchy because of course. Eggers is very much trying to set Ellen up as sympathetic in her situation and as a kind of next evolution to the Francisified Mina character who wants to fuck Dracula/Orlok/Death so so bad~

And then we get to the Van Helsing stand-in, Von Franz, and he is…oh man. 90% of his bits are fun. Interesting. The last 10% would make Abraham van Helsing in every iteration punch through the fourth wall and beat him to death with their library books. Surprise, Von Franz and Ellen both secretly colluded to set up the sunrise trap that will inevitably kill Ellen via Orlok feeding on her into the dawn. Von Franz purposefully leads the vampire hunter crew astray, including Thomas. When Thomas discovers this—from Knock who he mistakenly staked in Orlok’s place due to a mix-up with the coffin—Von Franz laughs as Thomas and Dr. Sievers the pseudo-Jack Seward make a run back to the house to try and save her.

The climax comes with Ellen and Orlok playing out the original Nosferatu ending. She dies happily cradling Orlok’s carcass. Thomas reaches her bedside and collapses in despair. The script closes on Von Franz showing up with a lilac bouquet and putting his hand on Thomas’ shoulder as he grieves, still unmoved from the bedside. Close on Ellen’s dead face ‘at peace.’

Somehow the scene doesn’t end with Thomas wringing Von Franz’ neck.   

There’s a lot more to read in there, obviously, but those were just all the big lumps sticking out of it to me.

I will grudgingly say it is not the absolute worst-case scenario I was afraid of. It’s not what I was hoping for—but that is keeping in line with Dracula and Nosferatu-adjacent media, per tradition. I do still want to see the film, I do want to like the finished product, even with the worrisome second trailer and sundry interviews throwing up red flags. Like The Last Voyage of the Demeter, it is at least an earnest attempt at taking this vein of classic gothic vampire horror seriously as a horror story.

But also.

I would really like directors to stop turning the Mina-Ellen figure into the vampire-pining gothic blowup doll for the latest ‘Bold and Subversive’ take #1654237 of GIRL AND THE DRACULA DO KISSY SEXY ROMANCE TIMES. An impossible dream, I guess.   

[acapelladitty]

Can I be both horny and controversial in your inbox? It feels like a safe space for this type of thing (but please feel free to ignore if not). I would definitely consider myself a feminist in real life, I think equality is so important and misogyny is a societal curse. But when it comes to fiction? That goes out the window.

Life is so difficult and stressful and there's something comforting, within the safety of fiction, about the idea of belonging to a man, being taken care of, being "used" because you're wanted so damn much. In real life if a man tried to tell me how to dress? Boy bye. But if a fictional evil bastard wants to give me a lot of money to turn my brain off, dress cute, and fuck whenever, and protect me??? Sign me up. (I got really into Black Mask fics this year and this is exactly why).

I even find the damsel in distress stories comforting and empowering in their own way. Sometimes I want to imagine myself as the hero and that's a power fantasy. Sometimes I want to imagine being loved and saved and taken care of, and that's a power fantasy too.

I DO struggle with feeling guilty for this sometimes. And sometimes I worry that I'm a bad feminist because of my kinks. But IDK, I can't help if it I think being thrown around is hot (and I mean, I'm bi so a sexy woman can throw me around too).

No, you're absolutely valid and fine for this and I think being open and honest about what you enjoy in fiction and recognising it as something that would repulse you in real life is actually very healthy and normal!

I'm much the same. If a man irl called me a whore or other misogynistic term then I'd fold him like a fucking omelette but in a sexual setting where the power dynamic has been willingly shifted and I'm looking to give control of myself to someone else then it's what I want to hear and experience. It's a type of play that allows for stress and worry to melt away as you're no longer responsible for all the things in life that weight you down, in that moment you're just a sexual being who is wanted SO terribly that another person is willing to take all that control from you and allow you to be free for the moment.

As always, it comes down to trust in your partner and establishing a dynamic that works for you both and fulfills a mutual desire. And when it comes to engaging in fictional works, there is such a wide and vast availability of these types of dynamics from a much more mild and casual play to full 24/7 master/slave dynamics that you can absolutely find something that will interest you xx

[forthegothicheroine]

@gehayi said: can you please tell us more about Israel Rank?

POV: We are at a slumber party and I am kicking my feet and giggling and telling you about the boy I like.

"Oh my god, his name is Israel Rank, and he's from a book called Israel Rank: Autobiography of a Criminal, and he is so hot! The musical A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder, and the movie Kind Hearts and Coronets were both based on the book, but they made him other things besides Jewish, which is so bogus. Roger Ebert said it made the story more 'universal', which I guess means half-Italian is more universal than half-Jewish, which, what the fuck?

Anyway, he's the worst person in the world and I love him. He's like Heathcliff plus Steerpike plus Edmund the Bastard. He's the really distant relative of and earl, and his mother was disinherited for marrying a Jewish man. Israel isn't technically Jewish, he was baptized and raised Anglican, but he looks Jewish- and also really hot, and he says that combination upsets people! Kind of an Adrian Brody thing? I would have cast Ezra Miller before they turned out to be a shitshow of a person. And his name is Israel, kind of as a fuck you to mom's family. So he decides if people are going to give him shit about it anyway, he's going to embrace it.

He's in love with this girl Sibella, who won't marry him because he's both half-Jewish and poor, so starting as a hypothetical lark he wonders if he could just murder every single family member between him and an earldom. And then he does it! After sexual fantasies about Lucrezia Borgia encouraging him to! What an absolute freak.

So he starts killing, and his narration is so dry and funny about it. He tells the reader that in his experience, Jews aren't all that violent- he speculates that Shylock would have walked back the pound of flesh if he'd had time to calm down- but he has the blood of evil rapacious noblemen on his non-Jewish side which are to blame. He kills most of his family, except for the cousin-in-law whom he marries. He also still love Sibella. And his wife! He just can't stop fucking, he's so awful! (And I think he's bisexual. At least, I don't know how else I'm supposed to interpret the part where he's in school and "the boy I loved chose me as his Jonathan.")

And he gets away with it! He's super popular at his trial because he's so handsome and charming and the same society that scorned him, now that he's an earl, gossips that his Jewish ancestry must be very slight and distant. And there's a twist that gets him off the hook which is actually a real bummer of a plot point, even he's bummed out by it, but it's such a perfect capper to a life of cruelty.

Honestly, I do get why none of the adaptations keep the half-Jewish thing, they're probably afraid it would seem antisemitic, but in my opinion it's a real shame because it's so central to his character and I think I do want a sexy Jewish Byronic antihero. He's the worst. I love him. I would marry him. I would immediately divorce him. His favorite book is Emma!"

For a more academic discussion, I did a podcast episode on him way back when!

[yandere-sins]

I'm not sure how thirsty our thirsts are allowed to be but I just stumbled upon your ghost oc from the halloween thingy while searching ghost from cod and WHAT?!?!?!?! Listen....all I'm going to say is 💦💦💦💦🥵🥵🥵 that is literally the best smut I've ever read in my ENTIRE life and I've been reading smut since about the 2000s. Would you be interested in continuing that piece or for writing an additional part? Maybe when they come to the apartment for the exorcism, they try 'channeling' or calling to the ghost to come, but he's fucking reader the entire time right infront of the roomate and officiate? My brain is thinking it would be so sexy if there was a glitch and he was visible for half a second but that can't be right....right? Why else would your roommates see a tall, sexy man taking you from behind at such a time? Must be a trick of the light! I love the perspective you write in and how even though this very supernatural sex scene was happening, you didn't describe it in a confusing or overly complex way. Your way of describing things, especially naughty things just hit different. It was extremely enjoyable! And so freaking hot!!!!! Seriously, there isn't a lot of content out like that so you're literally an angel for providing us with that haha. Going to give myself an anon name here, is 👻 available? Ahem, no reason why I chose that emoji hehe

Aww, I'm so glad you enjoyed it! It was a lot of fun to write :D Not sure I am always as clear when describing smth, but I'm doing my best! Thansk for you sweet ask and nice request, I hope you enjoy this story as well! ♥

Disclaimer: I don't speak latin. I google translatored this. Warning: Yandere, Heavy Sexual Content, Biting

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Dele omne mal-- ah--!"

"Malum, Baby. If you want to erase all evil, you gotta say your words right~"

It was hard enough to read the little pamphlet in your hands with your body shaking like crazy, thanks to the thick cock plowing into you with every word you were saying. You could have really forgone the condescending nitpicking of the ghost you were trying to exorcise, but you weren't that lucky.

"Malum," Eli whispered, leaning over to you and raising an eyebrow you could see even in the sparse flickering of the candles around you. They couldn't ask, not wanting to disturb the ritual you three had initiated. Still, their gaze alone silently questioned your inability to perform your part properly, even more shame washing over you.

"M-Malum," you finally finished your sentence, giving them an apologetic glance before lowering your head to avoid any more eye contact. You wanted them to notice this bastard of a ghost as soon as possible so they'd believe you, but at the same time, you were too embarrassed to be caught by them like this.

Aside from Eli, another person had joined you in this strange rite meant to banish the evil from your apartment. A guy named Brian, who seemed to really believe in this stuff despite being unable to see the ghost haunting you either. You had held your breath when you entered the apartment together with him, wondering what his reaction would be to seeing the spirit clinging onto you almost instantly, rubbing his cock against your ass and whispering lewd nothings into your ear.

But Brian made a grand show of convincing Eli that the apartment had bad 'juju', and needed cleansing immediately, which, strangely, your roommate believed him without any doubts. It only gave the ghost another chance to taunt you as he revealed that Brian was no more sensitive to the supernatural than Eli was, there being no escape from your unwanted roommate.

Now, you three knelt around a drawn-up pentagram on the floor of your room, the epicenter of paranormal activities how Brian explained, and between the fog of incense, the dim candle lights, and your nightmarish lover slipping in and out of your wet cunt, you could barely think even one cohesive thought.

It wasn't that you actually enjoyed being exposed to other people, the tension doing nothing for your pleasure other than making you squeeze the ghost cock tighter whenever it was your turn to speak. It wasn't a comfortable environment in any way. But something had changed. The ghost had changed.

You hadn't noticed it this morning at the breakfast table, nor when he bent you over the counter, feeling too worn out and fucked loose to actually feel the difference. But he had grown. After a few hours of staying away, you finally noticed the change in girth of his ever-so-eager cock. It was thick and bulging, especially when he pressed it to your sensitive cunt. It had made you gasp and tremble the first time it entered you, painfully spreading your walls, and even now, you could barely produce enough slickness to have it rammed into you comfortably.

Despite this, juices were flowing out of you, pooling on the floor beneath your gaping pussy as the ghost kept spreading and demanding deeper and deeper access. You blamed the incense for getting to your head, making you feel all aroused as you clenched around the suddenly bumpy and pleasurable grip his cock had. "Just like this, Babe. Fuck, you're so unbearably tight," the ghost groaned, burying his face in your shoulder as you unwillingly shuddered, your walls holding on to his length as it twitched inside you, the bumps and ridges covering his cock, stimulating your soft flesh.

You were going to cum. There was no denying it. In front of Eli and Brian, no less. 

"Now, let's hold hands, so we ask the ghost to pass over to the other side and leave this apartment peacefully."

A hand on each side of you was held out, and forcing yourself to take them, you couldn't help squeezing them tightly, earning a rather displeased look from both before Brian cleared his throat, continuing.

"I'll pass over, all right," the ghost mumbled, his pace picking up, cock twitching while he picked up the speed. You prayed to any god that could hear you that the others wouldn't notice your shaking and rapidly building orgasm. Your breath was hitching, pussy tingling delightfully as you closed in on violent spasms. 

"You feel so fucking heavenly~ I might die all over again. And I'll pass all my jizz right here."

And with that, you felt his tip kiss your cervix, your pussy spread to the max as the ghost stopped his movement, arms wrapped around you as he pressed you against his body, squeezing the air out of your lungs as if he wanted to take you with him to the afterlife. Your body had no choice but to accept his cock, wrapping around him and having him brutally stimulate all the sensitive spots inside you while you could barely hold on to reality.

Brian said some incomprehensible words, the rumbling of thunder suddenly scaring all three of you to the bone, making you jump. That little movement was enough to send you over the edge, the ghost pulling you back as you slid off his cock a little, his tip ramming into your cervix. It released all the pent-up pain and pleasure inside you first before soothing the burning heat of desire inside you with cold, dead spunk shooting up into your womb.

You were shaking harder than ever as lightning lit up the room, followed by another bellowing thunder. Brian gasped, his eyes widening as he stared at something behind your shoulder, the ghost letting out a husky laugh as he let his long tongue slip from his lips, dragging it over your ear before wrapping it around your throat once completely. "Mine," he growled, the tip of his tongue caressing your cheek, searching for your lips to dig in, and Brian let go of your hand, unable to get away fast enough as he let out a scream, stumbling to his feet and out of the door, leaving everything, even the things he lent you guys for the ritual, behind.

"What's up with him?" Eli asked, totally confused as they looked after Brian, surprised by the sudden freak-out. "What the fuck is going on? Why is he-- hey? Hey, what's wrong?"

Shocked, they noticed your unnatural hunched-over body, hanging only in the arms of the ghost that they couldn't see. Eli touched your shoulder, only to get shocked by electricity you could only guess came from the ghost. "It's over," you mumbled, feeling spit drool out of your mouth, your throat too restricted by the ghost's tongue to swallow. "Finally over."

"Never, Darling. We're only beginning," the ghost chuckled. "Tell them to leave."

"You can go, Eli," you slurred, letting your body fall back against the ghost's chest. Your eyes were hazy with the brutal orgasm you still felt shaking in every bone of yours. Gaze unfocused as you tried to direct it at Eli. The cock was still buried inside you, emptied yet hard and solid as if it manifested. Juices began to drip out, and had Eli looked at where the Ghost bundled up the black robe Brian made you wear in his grip, they would have seen the pool of indecency collecting on the floor between your wide-spread legs. 

"Are you sure? You seem... weird. Are you really okay? Should I call an ambulance? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No!" the ghost screamed, followed by the loud crashing of thunder as he grew bolder with every orgasm he could steal from you. He no longer lived to tease and bother you. He was finally evolving into an even worse spirit than before. Possessive. Starving. Greedy. Only you could hear him, and you shook your head in pain, exhausted.

"It's fine! Just... Just go. Please..."

"Err... okay?" Eli definitely wasn't considering hurrying up as they collected the few things Brian allowed them to take with her into the ritual, like their phone. But eventually, they stepped out of the door, closing it while watching you warily. "Let me know if you need something, okay?"

And with that, the lock finally snapped into the frame, and you breathed a sigh of relief as the ghost lowered you gently onto the floor, laying you down on top of the pentagram. "You're not going anywhere. And you can't get rid of me, do you understand now?"

"Please..." you mumbled, covering your face with your arms. You felt weak, used, and disgusted. So many bad things had happened in the last few days, and you were exhausted. Nothing you did made it better, and you were running out of ideas. It made you feel exposed and vulnerable, you even felt...

"I'm scared..."

Tears welled up in your eyes. A reaction you never wanted to show him, knowing the ghost would take every chance to belittle you. However, to your surprise, he leaned over you, licking and kissing the tears away gently, softly, a purr escaping his throat.

"It's okay, Sweetling. No one's going to take you from me. I'll satisfy all your desires and perform all these sinful things you'll come to wish from me as you fall from your graces. You are bound to me, and I am to you, and we'll grow stronger together until we can leave this place. We'll cause havoc and chaos wherever we go until we're strong enough to even wreck hell. I need you. You need me."

Pressing his body between your legs, you could feel his hard cock rub all over your cunt, now even teasing your clit. You mewled, head falling back as he pressed it painfully close, your pussy suddenly aching to be filled by his thickness while his lips trailed down your body, licking the sensitive spot between shoulder and neck before replacing it with his teeth.

His tip prodded against your entrance, and your cunt gave him little resistance as he pushed it in slowly, fangs sinking into your flesh at the same time. The ghost pinned you down by your hands, and with his weight, your whole body trembled so hard as if you were going to explode while you gurgled from the pain and pleasure. You were so out of it, you didn't even notice the pentagram beginning to glow beneath you as your blood spilled from the bite, some lucky drops dripping to the floor while the ghost licked up everything else.

"My queen, my life," he mumbled against your body, and you could feel his lips curl into a mischievous grin. "My pretty little fucktoy."

A burning sensations spread all over your back, making you gasp. Even more tears leaked from your eyes, but at the same time, you arched your back, the ghost's cock slipping inside you completely, turning the pain into pleasure.

"We're bound now," the ghost groaned loudly, lifting himself from you, and you felt his cock twitch inside as if he was ready to spill again.

Looking up at the ghost through teary eyes, you couldn't believe what you saw, his translucent skin slowly turning black and solid. You were horrified to see the burning mark of a pentagram go up in flames on his chest as his body solidified, great satisfaction brimming from demonic eyes.

"Finally, we're bound to each other. And with this new body of mine, nothing can stop us."

His touch had always been real, but the leathery feel of his hands wrapping around your throat was different. Frightening. You gasped and gurgled as he pulled you on his lap, now the one to kneel on the ground as he impaled you on his cock, one hand falling to your ass so he could move you up and down his shaft. "You're going to make such a beautiful pet for your future king of hell. I have to thank you for giving me enough strength to recover my true form. And I know just what to do to reward you."

Hugging you to his chest, you were pressed into the burning pentagram. The flames licked at you, lapping at you like an excited dog but didn't burn your skin where they touched. They were warm and comforting, engulfing you in an unlikely sweet embrace. All while more warmth spread through you like wildfire. Your back felt like it was burning up the same as his chest was, bigger and hotter with every toe-curling, scream-enticing plunge on his thick, slick cock.

"Birth my army as well, Human. Let's rain down disaster on this planet, and I promise you will never lack anything in life ever again."

You didn't care anymore.

Your tongue was hanging out of your mouth as your brain got shredded by otherworldly pleasure. Flames had spread everywhere, playing with your clit and nipples like eager appendages, teasing and lighting you on fire, even licking at your butt, waiting for a chance to enter you alongside their master. You could hear the wailing voices straight from hell as your ghost—demon?—grunted like a boar in heat while plowing into you mindlessly, satisfying his lust and need for your life force. You felt your life drain from you just as a new life built in you, strengthening you. Against your will, he was transforming you into something you didn't want to be. Something like him. A being that could weather all his desires and wishes. That would be just as depraved and selfish as he was, with a mind too broken to refuse him.

His queen. His life source.

His pretty little fuck toy.

His.

[medievalandfantasymelee]

THE HOT MEDIEVAL & FANTASY MEN MELEE

QUALIFYING ROUND: 45th Tilt

Cesare Borgia, The Borgias (2011-2013) VS. Ancelyn ap Gwalchmai, Doctor Who: “Battlefield” (1989)

Propaganda

Cesare Borgia, The Borgias (2011-2013) Portrayed by: Francois Arnaud

“How do I even begin to explain Cesare Borgia? - Cesare Borgia is flawless. - He has one duchy and two cardinalates. - I hear his hair is insured for 10,000 ducates. - I hear he does Church speeches… in Spain. - His favorite painter is Pinturicchio - One time, he met Caterina Sforza in Forlì. And she told him he was pretty. - One time, he threatened to kill me… it was awesome! This man.... this man, this man. He is the complete package: a perfect case of competent kink, a ruthless bastard (ie sexy) AND he's so irredeemably fucked up you also get the "I could fix him" complex. This is the man who could had it all and yet he wasn't enough (again, sexy). (Cont. under the Cut)

Ancelyn ap Gwalchmai, Doctor Who: “Battlefield” (1989) Portrayed by: Marcus Gilbert

“A brave and loyal, if somewhat stubborn, Arthurian knight, who helped the Doctor out and fell head-over-heels in love with a badass 20th century brigadier in the process. There's nothing like trying to flirt with a lady while you're being chased by an evil army and she has just threatened to kill you if you don't start running. ("Art thou betrothed?" "NOT NOW, ANCELYN!")

Additional Propaganda Under the Cut

Additional Propaganda

For Cesare Borgia:

He's serving cunt at ALL times. In Cardinal clothes? Serving cunt. In "civil" clothes? Serving cunt. In armor? Serving cunt. He had one of the most competent thinkers and do I say philosopher of his time (Machiavelli) *fawning* over him. Was he a tyrant? Possibly, but it's one we LOVE. The man [Machiavelli] literally BASED A BOOK on him...

"He has a personal assassin of ...unmatched abilities and YET he's even better than the man himself!!! He tries to kill his own would be killer in like the pilot episode and the man was ready to swear absolute fealty to him. As would I, to be honest. As would anyone and everyone. SO much cunt is Cesare Borgia serving at all times!!!

"We love him and loathe him and love to loathe him. His father loves and hates him bc they're too similar. His brother wishes he were him (he's not) His sister doesn't see anyone else. Lucrezia... yes: the incest is fucked up. Also that's why we love it- it's so unhinged, as anything Borgia should be!!! Their relationship... perfect. She's the only one that can possibly understand him, she's the only one he truly loves. She loves him and always has - only a Borgia can truly love a Borgia amirite?

This is a man who is clearly Not Okay and you want so much for him to Be Okay but at the same time not, because it's so much more entertaining when he's not and also we love a hopeless case. I rest my case only bc I lose any trace of coherence when talking about him so I dont know what more to add.”

For Ancelyn ap Gwalchmai:

[dairy-farmer]

Okay but re-reading the Ra's part of the Timeloop ask I sent? And the part you wrote? Oh... On No(tm) this man's out here dead set on being a BAD Idea Boyfriend.

Gonna seduce Timothy with his cock. KNOWS he has absolutely no chance of convincing him to Join Him with the usual flowers, dancing, and casual dating approaches for romance... soooo.... Wanna See Him Naked, Detective? *evil sexy eyebrow quirk* *is shirtless and on a throne Just Cause doing his best Slutty wide legged gonna conquer everything sit*

Like? Come on~ make a TERRIBLE life choice. Give him ONE(1!) Chance to rock your world so hard it ruins you forever. He has a multi-step plan. He just needs to pump your guts so good you permanently associate the concept of pleasure with HIM. THEN? You'll feel compelled to return..

It's always "just one more time", isn't it? Detective. Always "this is the LAST time". Stubborn, proud men like Timothy are so WEAK to pleasure, aren't they~? Pain they can handle. But pleasure? That addicts them.

He just needs an opening. Just ONE misstep. A low moment. Some time when Timothy's hunger for warmth outways his rightful caution of Ra's. And? All things are inevitable, if you are patient enough. Especially if you tilt the odds by hand.

Maybe he shows off the goods. Is shirtless more often then he has been in years. Low cut poet shirts and impressive capes. Tight, tight pants. Oh isn't it DISTRACTING, Detective? You aren't having THOUGHTS you won't admit too, aaaare you? Eyes CERTAINLY aren't lingering a bit too long~

Ra's has done this before and he'll do it again. CENTURIES is a word people keep using but honestly, they DO so fail to grasp what that MEANS. He has seduced THOUSANDS. And he's not even that hedonistic. He could have had far more.

He's faced off against genuine Femme Fatales. Homme Fatales. Battles of seduction and wit, daggers and poisons. Death in the night. Beautiful silks stained forever with the blood of their masters. He has nearly died more then once and come out stronger for it.

And? Like when the Bat was lost in time. Eventually his Detective WILL have to be in relatively close quarters with him again. Just close ENOUGH. The last time, he thought him cisgendered. Didn't realize his OPTIONS. Now? Now Ra's wants an HEIR out of him. Preferably a legion. They would be glorious.

But to GET that... first he needs to SEDUCE the Detective. Can't put offspring in a womb you haven't fucked. He ramps up his petty bullshit. TARGETED petty bullshit that will require Tim, specifically, too fix. He sword fights shirtless. Makes sure to subtly oil up a bit first. One MUST take care of their skin of course. It has NOTHING to do with the fact it will both perfume the air AND catch the light, drawing Timothy's attention to his muscles as they fight. Of course not.

Perish the THOUGHT, Detective~

And it eventually works. Because of course it does. Tim is stressed. Horny. Stressed AND horny. His life has gone to shit AGAIN. Everyone is fighting AGAIN. Everything hurts mentally, emotionally, and physically. And fuckin' Ra's is there... once AGAIN swanning around topless. All rippling abs and deep rumbling purr. Threats and word play. Posturing.

Telling him he'll GLADLY deactivate the bombs if Tim spends the night with him. Not even in his bed. Just... just in his company. Bastard being all assured and decadent and offering him food. And... and... Tim is so fucking tired. The thought of fighting of ninjas and swinging all over the place tonight sounds god awful.

His body hurts. HE hurts. He's hungry. Sore. Ra's is vaguely behaving. This room is warm and those seats look soft. That food looks good. Tim decides... "You know what? Fuck it. Why not." There are a LOT of reasons why not. Starting with "This is EXACTLY what Ra's wants" but? Tim is past caring.

He says sure. Ra's isn't even gloat-y about it. Just casually calls off the bombs. Tim should probably be pissed about that but... mmmm, food. He collapses into a chair instead. It's absurdly comfortable. The night is surreal. He gets fed. They talk about furniture as Tim tries to pry the chair makers name out of Ra's to no avail. Ra's gives him an honest to gods feet and hand massage.

It's... it's nice? Really nice. Relaxing even. Tim is suspicious. Not so much he DOESN'T take the deal again... but you know... suspicious.

And Ra's keeps feeding him. There's pleasant conversation about interesting things. Massaging of sore muscles. Hands that drift higher and higher. Lower and lower. Casually. And Tim is... is so WARM. Full belly, comfortably cradled by the various seats, muscles massaged loose.

Then he makes the mistake of getting SO used to this... he just starts showing up. Not changing into his RR suit first. Ra's is patient, but crows with victory in his mind. He waits until Tim is wearing a lovely suit. No particular day but not too soon into the change in behavior. Can't spook him, after all.

His fingers are lighter then any pickpocket's unbuckling the belt. The Detective of course still notices. Becomes more alert. Attention focusing. Ra's uses a move he's done countless times before. He cradles the Detective's head with one hand and plunders his mouth, even as his other slides like a thief down somewhere it should not be, to pay immediate and overwhelming attention to the heat below.

Tim jolts so hard it's nearly a thrash. But Ra's has caught has caught him off gaurd and does NOT intend to let him get his wits about him. He teases Tim breathless, confused and horny. Then his pants are GONE. Ra's is sliding with a dangerous grace to his knees between those powerful legs and hiking them up over his shoulders, spread wide.

Tim has just enough time to be confused before everything lights up, as an impossibly skilled mouth descends onto him. He'll never live down the sounds he makes. How quickly, EASILY, Ra's is able to drive him incoherent. Even before thick, calloused fingers slide in deep. Torment his best spots with ruthless accuracy.

Then Ra's is looming over him. Looking so damn PLEASED with himself. Tim should be furious. But all he can do is gasp for air and hold on as he's split APART. Big. So big. Ra's is whispering something filthy in a long dead language, watching his body take it with so much HUNGER on his face. Has anyone EVER wanted Tim this bad? He feels impaled.

The he's being taken APART. Hips the roll and grind, snap forward and pull slow. The rhythm keeps changing. Drawing out the pleasure but not letting it build enough to get Tim off. He thinks he starts crying. Can't seem to stop. Begs Ra's to just... to j-just let him get off. Please. PLEASE. Everything is so hot. Squelching and gushing and... and...

Ra's practically glows. Backlight by the ceiling lamps. Oil and sweat catching the light, coating his body. Unbearably focused on TIM. Looking and seeing and No Where To Hide. Exposed and conquered. Everything feeling so good. Tim's brain feels likes its short circuiting. He comes apart beneath Ra's. Then is made too again. And again. And again.

There's even a soft bed and fantastic breakfast in the morning. Tim refuses to fall for this.

He of course, falls for it. It's the best sex he's ever had. He's furious. Ra's is unrepentant and openly admits to his plans. Consent IS important, after all. Tim blows up several of his bases and then three days later? Him.

It takes all of five years of routinely threatening Gotham and then fucking the Detective incoherent for it to take. The Bat's eldest sends his lover after him. Wilson is a formidable opponent but sadly, they are unable to finish their duel. As the Detective has come to kill him, himself. The usual response. His lovers are rarely the sort to appreciate being made pregnant. They tend to demand satisfaction and his head on a spine.

As equally usual, he is able to convince the Detective of why he is more useful alive. He has a very persuasive tounge. The Kryptonians sent after him though? Those are a bother. Apparently his grandson sends his regards. Well played.

tim gives into Ra's once and it absolutely messes with his ability to remain impartial and fight ra's because he's just remembering how good ra's made him feel 😩😩😩😩. tim is just human afterall and its not like dick or bruce had any leg to stand on about tim sleeping with the enemy given their own histories.

tim is furious with ra's for being good at sex and making it so he often gets all weak-kneed around him now and he HATES his pussy for getting so attatched to ra's and just automatically getting wet at the sight or sound of him.

it's so obvious what ra's wants when fucking him (aside from just fucking tim) and tim falls for it every single time thinking nothing will happen. but then 5 years after he's started sleeping with ra's, tim messes up with his birthcontrol somehow or maybe all those creampies finally caought up with him because birth control is only SO effective- and tim is pregnant. he's several weeks along and if it had been five years earlier tim would've dealt with it without a shred of remorse.

but...now tim is older and more sentimental and...he's been thinking of leaving the caped business behind for awhile....and being the mother to ra's al ghul's child means tim's baby will have built-in round-the-clock monitoring and babysitting courtesy of the various shadows ra's sends his way to watch over his newest heir. well...if he lives long enough considering the look on his friends and family's faces when he told them he was pregnant and retiring.

[vidavalor]

Hello! I trully love your metas ♥️

And I want to believe… but how do you match the fact that they have kissed (even fucked) for so many time with the only kiss we have seen which is so clumsly, so fist-time-type, and so turbovirgin?

Thank you!

Hi @margotmignard-blog Thank you and nice to meet you. :) Ok, this is for you and the few Anons who have sent me more or less the same Ask in the last 2 weeks or so as some of my posts have circulated a bit more so yeah, alright, I'll take it on. All of you please help yourself to hot chocolate and holiday M&Ms, even if you are making me think about Every again to write this lol.

Why do I think Crowley & Aziraphale are long-time lovers when Every is an awkward kiss? Because you know what looks just like clumsy, first-time kisses?

Old-married argument kisses of desperation when all other communication is failing that then wind up failing, too, that's what.

Two people kissing in distress is clumsy and messy no matter what stage of their relationship they're in and if they're upset and think the other is about to walk out the door and conflicted about opening up to the kiss because of the argument then all of that makes for a truly gut-wrenchingly awkward kiss. It didn't read as a first time kiss to me at all but I can understand how it might to someone.

I actually think that's the insanely evil genius of it lol. This show is such a bastard worth knowing, I tell ya. :) Right now, they have everyone being all "they need to have a better second kiss!" and just well... if you were them, wouldn't you want that? Would seem a good way to bury the surprise of an older kiss, wouldn't it? Would be a good way to sleight of hand some doubt into *checks notes* apparently everybody but me and a handful of others lol and so help to have everyone flailing again but for a better reason when they throw in an older, better kiss.

It's also a bolder move, both story-wise and performance-wise. Sadly, it's still a big deal that they've even kissed at all and it shouldn't be but, thankfully, it's becoming more common. In a way, though, that makes the fact that they made the first kiss you saw less than ideal a better choice and a better story.

Some more thoughts on this under the cut below that is beneath some gifs of these two who haven't apparently ever kissed before moments away from sex in the wall slam scene in S1... which is Every's parallel scene. By design. To illustrate a contrast. The first kiss we saw is a mirror of oh, just the start of some casual public sex that got interrupted by SatanicNun!Nina. Haven't we all had that relationship where we let someone throw us against a wall before we ever kissed? I mean...

Look at Aziraphale and his little 'getting up to some sexy trouble' smile here... does he not look like he knows *exactly* what he's asking for here and does Crowley not know what the request is and give it to him in a way that screams that this is not the first time? The tone here is a bit... You know, Crowley, I've always said I wanted to fuck in an empty broom closet in a former satanic nunnery and luck of the devil, you just kicked in a door and found one so you are sooooo nice throw me against the wall baby let's go... oh terrific of course this is exactly when the damn nun shows up oh well at least I can enjoy you slurring your S's in sexual frustration for now...

Good Omens throws something down and then gives you context for it later on that causes you to revisit what you thought when you initially watched it, right? They do this all the time. The scenes themselves always work fine on first viewing but they change and morph into a different scene when viewed with the added context the show gives you later. If you're writing a show in that way, you absolutely would make Every the first kiss you showed the audience... *especially* if it was in a cliffhanger-y season finale. Your Ask is exactly the reason why. You and I and a bonkers number of others are engaging with one another on the topic and we're engaging with the show as a result. Some of us are apparently willing to fight to the death insisting that Every is their first kiss. Some of us are like how you appear to be from your Ask, where you're willing to keep an open mind but you're leaning towards it was the first kiss. Some of us are like me and are feeling that, when all is said and done, they are building a relationship that is millennia old and that the show will wind up illustrating an entire history of it by its end and the idea that we have scenes out there already like Rome and The Globe Theatre and 1941 and Tadfield Manor but people think that they just kissed for the first time in 2023 is kind of head-scratching to me.

I've had people ask me how an ancient times vavoom would advance the story and I've answered in other meta how I think it would but I have an ask back for you all: how, honestly, would 2.06 being their first kiss advance the story? They've written characters who have had a relationship of some form with one another since before the Garden of Eden and have shown us that story throughout different points in time. S3 is going to be, at best, set a couple of years out from S2 and is probably set a lot sooner than that, so we're going to end their story sometime before 2026 on their timeline, probably... and the first kiss was in 2023? When you have the opportunity to write an entire millennia-old romantic relationship with all of its highs and lows and show it in the flashbacks and how they inform the relationship in the present? Because that story is already there. That's the story I see watching this and have since the first time I watched it. I'm frankly kinda floored by the number of people who insist that it's their first kiss, especially two seasons into the show. The same show that gave you this before it gave you The Blitz, Part 2?

I got accidentally spoiled for Every like a lot of people and when I saw Crowley's glasses on, I had the feeling that it was probably going to be a terrible kiss. I was hoping that it wasn't the only kiss in the season but when 2.05 finished without it showing up yet, it became obvious that it was going to be a big thing in the finale (hahaha oh God, remember when we didn't know? simpler times lol) and that meant that it was likely the only kiss in the season and while it ripped my heart out like it did everyone else, I never saw it as a first kiss for a second.

If you've been with somebody for a long time and, like everyone else, you have your disagreements and your things to work through but you tend to be the kind of couple where you can always or almost always rely on a baseline of physical communication that helps you express what you feel for one another-- which is a wordy way of saying 'when you've been with someone forever and the sex is amazing' lol-- maybe the worst thing that can happen between you is if that feels like it's falling apart, too. That's what I see in that kiss and, in particular, Aziraphale's reaction to it.

It's not 'turbo-virgin', in an unfamiliar with kissing way, imo-- it's a situation causing conflict for Aziraphale over whether or not he wants to give into the kiss. We've all seen it from every damn angle by now lol. We see him unable to not give in, just a little. He kisses Crowley back a bit. He touches his shoulder and his side. He doesn't pull away because he just can't, really, because he never really wants to not be kissing Crowley, but he also can't just give in because that's the situation that Crowley's set up by kissing him the way he did. Crowley wants him to run away with him and that's not a solution to any of this, either, and everything is a total mess and if Aziraphale just gives in and opens up more and really kisses Crowley, he's saying yes to just running off with him and they can't. There's really nowhere to go.

Even with all of that, he still can't resist kissing Crowley a bit and touching him because Crowley and because what he really wants is for them to be literally anywhere else, somewhere safe away from all of it, without having to worry about Heaven & Hell, but they aren't and he can't pretend that they are. That'd be even crueler, really, to really kiss Crowley and then still go to Heaven, right?

It's not a first kiss and at a bad time panic-- it's oh God, I think we broke it. It's the heartbreak of suddenly being in this place together where they aren't communicating well on any level and that going past having a verbal disagreement and into the pain of having an absolutely brutally bad kiss with someone with whom you've had countless passionate ones and the terror that it might be the last one and you're never going to feel any of that again.

That's happened to them before.

It's the brutal 1862 scene. Aziraphale in 1862's comment about The Agreement is the most embittered you won't touch me anymore thing ever. They've gone from The Arrangement in their looser, flirtier Globe Theatre era to now what Aziraphale calls The Agreement in 1862. The difference between an arrangement and an agreement is basically where the future is concerned. An agreement is, well, an agreement lol but it tends to be more formal, more restrained, while an arrangement is an agreement that contains more of a view to the future. It's a plan. You agree to meet up but you arrange how, basically. They don't have The Arrangement in 1862 anymore, they have The Agreement and it sounds like the exact fucking opposite of The Arrangement. The Agreement is "stay out of each other's way. Lend a hand, as needed," according to Aziraphale.

Read that again: "Stay out of each other's way. Lend a hand, as needed." See a problem here? If we're just talking about helping each other out with work assignments then this literally just doesn't make any sense at all as how can you both stay out of each other's way but lend a hand as needed? It's one or the other. It can't be both. It's "stay out of each other's way" when it comes to work assignments. It's "lend a hand, as needed" in their love life and Aziraphale is bitter as all holy fuck about it. They're barely having sex anymore.

That scene in 1862 actually also parallels part of the scene that contains Every. Funny how alike "we have a lot in common, you and me" sounds to what Crowley says in 2.06, isn't it? Dude has got to stop asking for holy water or to run away when they're both a mess-- it not working lol.

The point is that they've been together a long time and they've also both experienced a lot of trauma. They've have times where miscommunications snowballed and it felt broken beyond repair but it's not and it's not because they love each other and they eventually figure it out. That's part of the pain of Every, though, because what happened after Crowley came back from Hell in 1827 was bad and it took a long time to get to a better place with it but they did and better than before and then this kiss that they think could wind up being their last is a complete disaster straight out of the mid-1800s on top of the fact that they're in what feels like in the moment irreversible disagreement.

It's a painful kiss. It hurts to watch. It's supposed to. Not because they've never kissed before but because they've kissed a trillion times and this is by far the worst of the lot.

And these bastards decided it was the first one we should see lol. It's okay, though. These are coming soon, in the past and present:

[khujo-n]

Stupid bastard sexy evil man. Go get divorced again to big boy man. *why he gotta sound so handsome. fuck.*

[astro-b-o-y-d]

Hayley's Completely Self-Indulgent and Borderline Ridiculous Bill Cipher Playlist (Part 1)

Just gonna go for it and make a masterpost of all the songs (video links included) I've got on my Bill playlist so far.

'So far' being the key words; I've added over a hundred songs at this point and will probably add more in time. Whether it's songs I think Bill would like, songs that just remind me of Bill, the most obnoxious songs to hear on a party playlist, songs connected to the side of himself he tries to bury in lies, or songs that I'll admit are a bit of a stretch but they still remind me of Bill so I added them anyway, I've got a little bit of everything here.

I do take requests for songs to add but also don't make fun of me for some of the more obvious and basic choices because I know. I know. But also I can do whatever I want forever.

I did put some small reasons/infodumps next to each song, to explain why I picked them. Or I'll just say that it had Bill vibes to me and leave it at that.

Anyway, for anyone interested (if you actually read all my little blurbs, massive props to you), the first chunk of songs are listed below. Just a heads up, it's LONG and this is only the first part:

Mariana & The Diamonds - Oh No! - Yeah, obviously. Obviously.

Taylor Swift - Death Note ｢AMV｣ Look What You Made Me Do - I said it before, I'll say it again; Death Note AMV creators can turn water into wine and every time I watch this one, I can't stop picturing the song from the POV of a manipulative, power-hungry bastard with a God Complex. So you know, Bill. But only specifically in this context, it doesn't hit as hard without the AMV.

Fall Out Boy - Centuries - Listen to the lyrics of the chorus. That's Bill. Like...that's Bill. The rest of the song has a lot of really good Bill lyrics as well.

Scissor Sisters - I Can't Decide - Shut up. SHUT UP. I knew about the song WAY before it was ever applied to Bill. Heck, I knew about this song way before Bill even existed so SHUSH. But like, come on. Sometimes a song choice is overapplied to a character for a reason; it works.

Creature Feature - The Greatest Show Unearthed - I think my teenage self would strangle me if I didn't put at least one Creature Feature song on here. Lucky for him, I've put more than one. But the other one comes later. ...Did I add it? I should check that.

Voltaire - Land of the Dead - Speaking of teenage Hayley's tastes, time for the Voltaire songs I've definitely just added because of the 'I'm 13 and this is Deep' vibes. But also Voltaire fucks severely and every Bill playlist should have at least one of his songs on it, in my personal opinion.

Voltaire - When You're Evil - Once again, I'm 13 and this is Deep, but also tell me you can't imagine Bill singing this to himself. No, not in a sexy way in a human body who looks like Oregonian Onceler, in the edgy teenager way where you thinks you're the most evilest evil in the entire world but you're really just going through puberty and also probably transgender, but you don't know that yet.

Voltaire - Death Death (Devil, Devil, Evil, Evil, Song) - Once again, edgy teen who thinks he's the most evilest evil in the entire world (I don't think Bill is actually irredeemably, unquestionably evil, he'd just really vibe with 'Ooh I'm so evil! I'm such a bad guy!' songs).

I'm pretty sure this is the last Voltaire song for now, unless I added Brains! somewhere down the line and forgot. (Also just a mild warning but this song DOES use the f-slur, if that bugs you)

The Greatest Showman Cast - The Other Side - Sighs. Look. It's a Bill and Ford song to me. I don't even mean romantically or anything, just LISTEN to it. That's them. If there were a Gravity Falls Musical, dedicated to recreating the entire show through song and dance, the two of them meeting for the first time would have a song exactly like this. I refuse to apologize for this choice. Also a Gravity Falls musical would rule, someone should make that eventually.

Italobrothers - My Life is a Party - Just the first of my many Dragostea Din Tei choices for this playlist. I really like the original, okay? And I usually end up attached to people who try to remix it/make a new song outta it. This one has the bonus of also being a fun party song.

David Guetta, Bebe Rexha - I'm Good (Blue) - Speaking of the first choice of a song I have multiple times on this playlist in some form. I don't care what anybody says, I think this song is a lot of fun and I think Bill would have it on one of his party playlists somewhere. Probably the Nightcore version, it's a lot quicker and makes for a better fistpumping song, in my personal opinion.

Set It Off ft. William Beckett - Wolf In Sheep's Clothing - Yeah, I'm not explaining this one, you get it.

Vocaloid (made by Fukase) - ‘Cause I’m a Liar - I actually don't like this one all that much, and I can feel everyone's judgment about having a fucking Kokichi Ouma fansong on here. But the lyrics don't lie. Or...I guess they do. It's a song about being a liar, that's the joke. (Also slight content warning but the video has a lot of flashy effects, so take caution!)

Kesha - Blow - Of course we've gotta have some Kesha. There will be more. She needs no explanation.

Kesha - TiK ToK - Once again, not explaining myself. It's Kesha.

Taylor Swift -【AMV】Death Note - Blank Space - What I said about the last Death Note AMV with a Taylor Swift song. It just works so well for a manipulative guy like Bill, but only when set to Death Note specifically. Why? I have no idea, it just hits different. It's like eating crackers with cheese whiz: not a healthy or fantastic snack by any means but sometimes I just want some junk food. Except this junk food manipulates people.

Kesha - Take It Off - Once again, will not explain my Kesha choices. You understand that Bill and the Henchmaniacs would be Kesha girlies or you don't.

Neil Cicierega - It's Gonna Get Weird - Giggles. Also funny enough, I don't listen to this all that often. Dunno why.

Gravity Falls Soundtrack - Is It Bottomless - Triangulum Entagulum - I mean, yeah.

Gravity Falls Soundtrack - A Very Tricky Triangle - I mean, yeah x2. I don't care if this might be cheating, I can do what I want. But also, isn't this such a FUN instrumental? I love the music they use for him in the show SO much. It's so sinister and otherworldly. Top-notch soundtracking.

Voltaire - Brains! - Oh, hey, I did add Brains! to this. Anyway, we can tell I was a Billy and Mandy kid so I'm gonna project that onto Bill. Also I'm 90% sure this is the last Voltaire song I have on the list. For now.

Trolls 3 - Mount Rageous [Extended Edition] - This is absolutely one of my most self-indulgent picks on the list, especially because I went straight for the one that includes the Sweet Dreams part of the song (because I guess the soundtrack doesn't actually have it?)

Anyway, it's a song all about faking it to make it, sung by people who have gone on to manipulate everyone around them by using others for their own abilities. So I think I at least have SOME excuse to connect it to Bill. Maybe? Possibly? I think so. Plus it fucks and actually got me to semi-care about the Trolls films again.

Alex Hirsch - We'll Meet Again - Giggles again.

Marina and The Diamonds - Bubblegum Bitch - Insert that post about always understanding whenever someone slaps Bubblegum Bitch onto a character playlist. That character's Miss Sugar Pink Liquor Liquor Lips now. Admittedly I don't have any other real reason for it to be on here, other than its extreme levels of cunt. Maybe Bill adds it to his party mix at Pyronica's request or something. Now THERE'S a Bubblegum Bitch.

Rihanna - Disturbia - Another song that gives me Bill and Ford vibes. Pretty self-explanatory, probably. Probably?

Malia J - Smells Like Teen Spirit - I also have the original version and the Weird Al parody down further on the playlist, and I tie them all to Bill in different ways. This one's for his more ominous and sinister side, where it's like 'I'm coming and I'm not leaving :)', whereas the original touches more on the 'teen/young adult revolutionary' side of things and the Weird Al cover is just because Weird Al. Also this cover is so pretty and chilling to me.

David Guetta ft.Sia - Titanium - This one's kind of a 'I could take it or leave it on here' song, admittedly, but also it gives me pre-Second Dimension-Destruction Bill vibes, in a twisted kind of sense. Like, he feels all powerful and like nobody can stop him...as he proceeds to make the worst mistakes of his life and destroys everything he knows. Might stew on this one and potentially remove it, but it can stay for now.

Ricky Martin - Livin' La Vida Loca - I feel like this one speaks for itself. He's insane. He's cah-RAZZYYYYY. Also it's a fun party song.

Freak Kitchen - Freak of the Week - This one just fucking rules. I'll admit connecting it to Bill outside of the title is a stretch, it's more a critique on people so desperate to achieve fame and fortune that they'll go as far as putting their own lives in danger to get it, whereas Bill is more likely to put others in danger to achieve his own goals.

But also he was willing to destroy the universe with himself inside it, for the sake of the most wild party imaginable. Also, desperate to seek fame and fortune without considering the dangers necessary to get there? Could always stretch further, say it's a Bill and Ford song. Either way, I'm keeping it on the playlist.

Christina Milian - Am to Pm - I've just really liked this song since I was like, ten, and it's a fun party song. Not all of Bill's party songs have to be super annoying, sometimes they can be bops. The bops make you lower your defenses. So when he drops a What Does The Fox Say? down the line, you're completely blindsided. Yes, it will be on here.

Viva La Vida - Coldplay - A human Bill song if I ever heard one. Another fairly basic choice, but again, I don't think it's a HUGE stretch to tie it to him. Plus again, insert that Top Forty Hits quote from Dipper here. They're in the top forty for a reason, they're CATCHY.

Eurobeat Brony - Discord (Remix) - Yeah.

Alina - When You Leave [Numa Numa] [Basshunter Radio Mix] - I told you this song was going to be all over the playlist. And we still haven't gotten to the original yet. Also fun fact; there was originally another version of the song before this one, but upon a relisten I was like 'Hmm, nah, it's good but I don't know if it's got that Bill energy.' Yes, I can and do compare Dragostea Din Tei covers for my Bill Cipher playlist like I'm comparing paint swatches at Home Depot. It's that important to me.

Switchfoot - Dare You To Move - I have no excuses for putting a song from a psuedo-Christian rock band on my Bill Cipher playlist outside of the sheer nostalgia factor, and I can't even pretend it's a one-off thing because there's another one of their songs further down the list. But CONSIDER; the Axolotl singing it to him. That's all I'm going to say. I will not apologize.

BB Cooper - Blame - To me, this is one of those songs about the feelings Bill probably tries to drown in lies. I realize it's a stretch, because we know he wouldn't actually stop and self-reflect in the way that the song does.

But at the same time...I could easily see someone making an animatic set to this song with Pre-Second-Dimension-Destruction Bill at the beginning and it switches to present-day Bill for the second half. I see the vision, even if I realize Bill would try his hardest NOT to see it.

Either that or he'll interpret it as a 'You see? I'm not the villain here. My tragic past is the real reason I'm like this.' song. But you know, there's always that thin thread that's tied to his past, before everything unfolded as it did. Where at some point, he really and truly wasn't to blame. Alas.

They Might Be Giants - Particle Man - Heehee hoohoo triangle man.

Tom Cardy (ft. Montaigne) - Red Flags UNO REVERSE - I added these two in reverse order, oops. Oh, well. I feel like it adds to the chaos.

Tom Cardy (ft. Montaigne) - Red Flags - Of course. Sidenote but this song is physically impossible to sing out loud in public unless you want some WEIRD looks from people.

Hudson Mohawke - Cbat - Tell me he wouldn't love this garbage.

Circus Music - Just circus music. Because he's a massive clown.

Earth Wind & Fire - Boogie Wonderland - Just a fun song, especially for parties.

Nicki Minaj - Super Bass - It feels so wrong to think of a party mix without it, and I feel like Bill would agree.

Toby Fox - Your Best Friend and Toby Fox - Your Best Nightmare - These two are tied together in that order, for pretty obvious reasons.

Simple Plan - I'm Just A Kid - I bounced back and forth with myself before eventually taking Teenagers by MCR off the playlist. I'm not doing that with this song. It just...it feels Bill, you know?

Maybe specifically my version of him, but also can't you imagine your own version of him blasting this at the age of like, fourteen? Am I wrong? I don't feel like I'm wrong. Also I might add Teenagers back onto the list, he needs more of those angsty teen songs.

Darude - Sandstorm - It's a meme, it's funny, it'd be a blast at parties.

Flo Rida ft. Kesha - Right Round - I wouldn't count this as a Kesha song but also I could easily see them bumping it in the Fearamid.

Sia - Chandelier and Toad - Chandelier - Once again, a two-for-one special. I feel like Bill would enjoy both for various reasons. He can interpret it as just another party song, while ignoring the obvious darker implications behind the song of masking your true pain and emotions through a wild and reckless lifestyle. He'd probably love to get as literal as possible with it and try swinging from a chandelier. The Toad once is ear-splitting annoying. I think they fit

Florence and the Machine - Cosmic Love - This one is just for Mina. That's the only reason it's here.

Weird Al - Polka Face - Funny Weird Al song.

Vanilla Ice - Ice Ice Baby - Drake suggested this one and it was right. I laughed and added it, then proceeded to get jumpscared by it when I shuffled the playlist this morning. So that was funny. Go, white boy, go.

Tim Rothrock & Jim Wise - Goofy Goober Rock - More Drake suggestions (this and the other Spongebob songs, along with a few others down the line), and this makes me smile extra hard because I've been in such a Spongebob mood lately :)

Spongebob - Jelly Fish Jam (4 Hour Edition) - Yes, the 4-hour edition specifically. If you're not jamming as much as the jellyfish did in the episode, you're doing something wrong.

Spongebob - Sweet Victory - Of course. Gotta honor the classics.

Weird Al - NOW That's What I Call Polka! - Another one of my personal favorite Weird Al polka mashups.

LMFAO - Party Rock Anthem - Would Bill be Team Party Rockers or Team Party Rock Is?

Cutting it off here because this playlist has over a hundred songs so far and I'm only at...57. How fun for me personally to stop there for the first part. Anyway, expect the next part in a bit.