#why must it be like this why do i have so much trouble typing it out 🙍🏽‍♀️

[metalomagnetic]

Either must die snippet

***A dear friend asked on discord if I have some EMD writing left, so here it is.***

----

Harry hadn’t stopped screaming since he entered the kitchen; he’s furious. It’s been a long time since he exploded in such righteous anger.

Cheeks red, jaws set, and those damned eyes of his glinting. Why, it’s almost like before, back in the war. Of course, now at least he can appear somewhat intimidating, what with the size of him. He doesn’t intimidate Voldemort, but it is easy to imagine he could make a random individual cower. Voldemort would like to see Harry going off like this on some pesky journalists or one of his stalker fans. It would be entertaining.

As it is, it’s not entertaining at the moment. It irritates Voldemort to be screamed at.

One flick of his wrist, and he could silence Harry. Another flick and he can send him crashing into the wall. To resist temptation, he drums his fingers on the table, reaches inside to find patience. It’s getting harder and harder to be patient these days. He had to suffer it for a while, but now he’s back in power. A Minister, not a war lord, yet people learned not to trifle with him, not to glare at him, not to talk back.

Even Harry learned, as the years passed by. He minded his business, and he let Voldemort be. Yet it’s not worth the trouble to put him in his place, now. He can already imagine the dramatics that would follow. Harry would break again, and Voldemort will either have to lock him in an attic, never to be allowed in public, or he’d have to put in the effort to build him back up, and he certainly lacks the patience for that. Hermione would be insufferable about it. Delphini would cry.

Harry must be aware of these unpleasant outcomes, too, because while he screams, he doesn’t dare do more than that. He cries, too, tears of pain and frustration and pure despair. That improves Voldemort’s mood a tad. Harry always looks good when he’s crying. “I asked for one thing!” his voice breaks, rough. “One thing! You have everything, and I said nothing- you use me, you use my name, you- I only asked for one thing.”

What a lie. Harry might not verbally ask for much, but those pitiful eyes of his ask plenty, and Voldemort gives it to him. The ungrateful brat.

“And you couldn’t let me have it! You’re a monster!”

Show him, a voice begs, a voice that was dormant for so long, but it’s waking up lately. Show him the monster. Show him how patient you’d been with him all these years. Show him how it could have been.

Voldemort ignores it. His fingers curl around the table, momentarily, because just drumming them isn’t enough anymore, he itches for his wand, but then the crisis is avoided, and he is in control, he won’t snap. He does stand, because it’s safe to do it, his temper is in check, and Harry tired himself out with his tantrum. “You asked for her life,” Voldemort reminds him. “She is alive.” Moly Weasley lives. Thought it seems a misfortune befell her earlier that day. Well earned. Delicious revenge. Harry, sadly, is not the type to enjoy the poetic justice, the mastery in this delivery of punishment.

She lives, like he wanted, she isn’t even in pain, but the score was settled. Fleetingly, he wonders if Bella is happy, if she laughs gleefully in the afterlife. Perhaps not- Bella was never one for poetry, for subtlety. She got her vengeance in blood and screams. Harry stares at him, shaking his head. “I hate you,” he whispers. Voldemort did not want to break him, but he broke, anyway. So fragile, this boy of his, despite his impressive muscles, he shatters like glass. “Nothing new,” Voldemort replies, and walks out of the kitchen.

As soon as he reaches the garden, he feels his anger rising, now that he isn’t focused on not hurting Harry until he explodes into a pile of blood and bones. He gets angrier and angrier with every step. He feels as impotent as Harry must feel. No matter how mad the boy was, how obviously hurting, he did not even think to draw his wand at Voldemort, or punch him, like he once did. He would have- for Molly fucking Weasley, he would have. Harry has few limits, but the Weasleys are one. Harry would crash and burn with them, for them, the world be damned. He didn’t, however, because he must know, deep down, that it wasn’t Voldemort. But he can’t admit it to himself, not consciously. Voldemort is a convenient scapegoat. Voldemort is a monster, rotten and evil, and it’s easier for Harry this way. Easier than the truth.

He Apparates to Lestrange Manor, and he thinks of Bella again. How odd- he hadn’t truly thought of her in years, but now he feels her around; when he walks to Lestrange Manor, is feels like before, like when he’d walk this path and knew he’d find her and Rodolphus inside. He doesn’t, of course. He finds a copy of her, instead. Bella left him copies of herself, echoes that remain to dwell the earth in her absence. Voldemort walks past Andromeda, strolls through the Manor, until he finds Rodolphus’ copy.

Voldemort knows Rabastan is guilty as soon as he lays eyes on him. That stiff posture, the fear in his eyes, even if he keeps his chin up, defiant. “Your wand,” he snarls. Andromeda followed him, she’s frowning, confused, asking what the matter is. The matter is that Voldemort was disobeyed. “Leave,” Rabastan begs her. “Leave,” Voldemort snarls at her. Andromeda is a cheaper copy of Bella, in all senses. Tamer, sadder, broken. But wiser. She leaves.

Rabastan gives up ‘his’ wand. It’s not his, of course, just like Voldemort suspected. He knew, as Harry was screeching, as Voldemort sat there trying not to snap, he was thinking how all this could have been accomplished. Delphini is at Hogwarts, after all. Impossible for her to also be at the Burrow. Unless she Apparated there. But she wouldn’t risk doing all that with her wand. It became quite obvious who would have given her a wand. “It had to be done,” Rabastan dares to speak. “You moved on, but I can’t; not until justice was served. You moved on, but Delphi couldn’t.” Delphini is a far better copy of Bella, compared to Andromeda. But, as Voldemort feared- you do not fear!- as Voldemort suspected, she is no true copy of her mother. Oh, she’s her spitting image, she has some Black traits in her personality, but no- Delphi is his copy. The anger reaches its peak. Voldemort always treasured Rabastan over most others, awarded him more leeway than most others. But Rabastan is no Harry, he’s no Delphini, and Voldemort snaps.

He reminds Rabastan who he serves, whose mark is on his arm. Useless, of course. Rabastan was never one to cow for pain, nor learn from it. Yet his pain serves to soothe some of Voldemort’s anger, lets him take it out on him. Another convenient scapegoat.

(-)

She does walk like Bella, a confident, defiant tilt to her hips. She walks loudly, proudly, as if used to have others look at her in awe, covet her. She brought her heels, even if the path to the Forbidden Forest is not exactly best suited for heels. Whenever she angers him, she knows to make herself look even more like her mother.

Once, when he searched her mind, he saw Rodolphus teaching her this, on the night before he left her at Rowle’s. “It’s best if you look like her,” he told her, advising her to let her hair free, to wear the dresses Bella favoured. “He treasured her above all others, and, in time, I hope he’ll treasure you, too.” She doesn’t stop at a respectable distance, like Bella would have done when she knew she messed up, when she angered him. No. Delphini comes close, closer than anyone dares.

She’s taller than Bella already, and the heels almost bring her up to his chin. She looks up, and those are his eyes, that is his glare, his defiance, his stubbornness. “What potion did you give her?” “My own invention,” Delphini says, and pride flushes stronger on her face. “They won’t detect it.” “And if they do, then what is the problem, no?” Voldemort asks. “Who is going to suspect a perfect school girl? And if they do suspect her, who is going to blame the Minister’s daughter? Who would dare arrest her?” Delphini shrugs.

“If you plan on using my influence to stay out of trouble, if you know you can easily fall back on me to protect you, then you should discuss things with me before you do them.” “Why bother,” she spits. “You would have said ‘no’. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.” He should have tortured Rabastan more, because not all the anger is out of his system. Furry comes back hot, coursing through his veins, going to his head. “Ask for forgiveness, then,” he hisses, and he takes the step that separated them, towers over her. If she wants to play these games, he’ll play them. She will lose. It’s time for her to learn to lose- Harry spoiled her, far too much. He ignored Voldemort’s warnings that Delphini shouldn’t get away with everything she does, that he should push back, whenever she tests them.

As always, Harry’s kind, tolerant heart, explodes spectacularly in his face.

Delphini doesn’t cower, not truly, but he can detect the current of fear that passes through her. Strangely, it does nothing to improve his mood. Terrifying people usually soothes his fury, but now it just taints it with an unknowable feeling. “I thought you loved Harry,” he says, softly.

“I do!” Her fingers curl into fists at her side. Her neck is bent back uncomfortably, trying to keep Voldemort’s gaze. “She’s alive, isn’t she? Like he asked. She loves Harry, didn’t forget him, and she’ll no doubt dote over him, like a mother. In fact, now that she only remembers loving him, she’ll love him even more! I took nothing from Harry! He can have his pretend mummy! I only took away the memories of all her living children! It’s only fair!”

Delphini’s voice gets louder. Defensive. “She stole my mother from me! So it’s only fair she forgets all the beautiful memories she has with her children, memories she didn’t let me form with my mother. It’s only fair she will only remember her dead son, like I have to remember my dead mother, every time I step foot into the Great Hall, where that harpy took her from me. From us! You lost her, too! And now Molly Weasley cannot remember her husband, either! It’s fair, it is!”

It is beautiful, he agrees. It is poetic and it is just. It is perfect. However.

“You knew he’ll blame me for it; you understand he’s devastated; you understand how he’ll avoid me now, how he’ll suffer, how he’ll moan and whine at me for months on end, start drinking again, retreat into his spare bedroom and rot there for who knows how long. You are perfectly aware Hermione will blame me, too. That it could potentially harm my work. You knew this would affect me. And you did it anyway.” He cups Delphini’s face, and she finally flinches, though she doesn’t draw back.

So beautiful, this child. So intelligent. She loves Voldemort, understands him like no other. His perfect girl. If Voldemort would have ever wanted a daughter, if he’d have been given the chance to make her, build her from scratch- this is what he’d have imagined. Only, he still wishes she would have been more like Bella, or Rodolphus, or Harry; it would have been easier. For him, and for her. Alas, she is not like them. She is like him.

“She deserves it,” Delphini insists. “She hurt me!” Ever her tears are perfect, pretty shapes, clear, trailing down her cheeks. “That never works with me, Delphini,” he reminds her, using his thumb to brush one tear away. “I know!” she hisses. “Nothing works with you! That’s why I didn’t ask! Because you give Harry everything he asks, you are so attentive to provide him with what he needs, but you never care about what I want. What I need. I asked you to punish her, you promised me, remember? When I first met Ron. You promised me! But then Harry asked you to spare her, and you did what he wanted. You forgot about me, about my pain-“

“Shut up,” he says, softly. “I allow you far more than I would anyone else. Harry is my prisoner, he does only what I allow him to do, even if he deluded himself into thinking otherwise. I give you freedom. I don’t make decisions for you. I accept you as you are. But-“ he takes his hand away. “Do not trespass against me, Delphini,” he warns her. “If you want to hurt others, don’t use your mother as an excuse to do it. More importantly, don’t hurt people that are useful to me. Ask before you pull something like this again. And when I say ‘no’, better heed it. Or leave. Go far away, and make trouble there. This is my country, and nothing happens inside it without my say so. I worked for sixty years to subdue this island. If you want that kind of power, you will have to work for it, too.”

[kyseya]

You reap what you sow

Yandere farm brothers x f.reader

—————-

Just your typical luck, your car had suddenly broken down in the middle of nowhere. What will you do now? You can’t stay there, there’s no food or water available. Luckily, you hadn’t run out of recourses just yet but it was very close to being gone.

You stepped out of the car and went around it, staring it down with waves of irritation rolling off you. You tried coming up with a plan. The next stop was miles away and it was nothing but a daydream that you’d be able to make it there on foot.

Right as you were about to give up and let the animals take you, the sound of wheels on gravel caught your attention. Turning around, you saw another car speeding towards you. Yes! You were saved! You waved at the person in the car and luckily enough it stopped. ‘I’m gonna pray it’s not Michael Meyers lost cousin or something.’

The door to the passenger side opened and you spotted a man sitting behind the wheel. He was young, around your age, probably a little older perhaps. He had dark brown hair and equally dark eyes. You instantly noticed a scar below his left eye as you glanced at his face. You had to admit, he was very handsome; in a rugged type of way. You couldn’t help but eye how his plain shirt hugged all the muscles on his body. You mentally slapped yourself, ‘Geez (Y/n), you’re here to ask for help not ogle him like the last piece of cake at the party!’

“Your car broke down?” He asked, looking at the worthless piece of junk that had decided to betray you just minutes ago.

“Yeah, it did.” You scratched the back of your head in slight embarrassment. “I couldn’t trouble you for a ride, could I?” He was quiet for a moment, in which you hastily added, “Not for long! Just so I can get proper help from a mechanic. I won’t be a bother I promise.”

The man nodded. “Alright then, hop in.”

Your eyes lit up at his response. You gladly took a seat beside him and thanked him again for his help. “Thank you so much. You’re literally saving my life.”

He nodded once more. Guess he wasn’t much of a talker. Well not that it mattered much. You’d only stick around until you got to a town and found someone who could fix your vehicle. You didn’t have to be all buddy-buddy with each other. You only had to be happy he didn’t seem to want to kill you and hang your organs like Christmas ornaments. The chance of you meeting again was down to basically zero.

Or that’s what you thought, but life has a funny way of messing with you. It must have a grudge against you or else you wouldn’t be seated in the same position you were previously, only it being about 3 hours later. The drive to the nearest town was long(you definitely wouldn’t have made it by walking) and when you got there, you found out the one mechanic they had was out of town.

You thought you were going to have to spend the night in a bush, but you were pleasantly surprised to have your muscular helper offer a nights stay at his farm. You were grateful(once more) and also confused. Why was he being so nice to you when he didn’t have any reason to? It didn’t make sense. The two of you had just met, plus that you’ve only spoken a number of times and none of the conversations were noteworthy.

It was after you accepted you got to know his name, Weston. It fit him quite well, you thought. He told you there was a spare room you could use. It would be further away from his, to offer you some sort of privacy. He also mentioned there was one other person living on the farm, his younger brother. If he annoyed you, you could just tell him off, Weston said to you.

Your butt was sore from all the sitting, both in your own car but also from this little trip. The sky darkened and the sun had nearly completely disappeared when you finally arrived at the farm. It looked like you imagined. There was a large house which you assumed was the main house. Behind it was a big, red barn. You thought you could hear the faint sounds of animals.

Climbing out of the car, you glanced expectantly at your host, waiting for his initiative. You didn’t want to be rude and march right up to the house. As you were waiting, another figure came into view. He was much like his older brother, with brown hair and eyes to match. He was smiling at the both of you, although you caught a slight suspicion towards you.

“Who’s the new kid?” He asked his sibling, who gave him a rundown of what’s happened. You were a bit annoyed at how he called you ‘kid’, you were very much a grown person. And he’s one to talk, you were sure he was younger than you, even through all that brawn. He wasn’t as tall as Weston but he was no joke either. The younger brother looked at you with sympathy, “Really? Well that’s unfortunate. What’re you gonna do now that the mechanic’s gone- since you need him I’m guessing you don’t exactly know how to fix cars.”

You sighed, “I’m not sure yet. I’ll come up with something tomorrow. I’m too tired from all the driving and thinking.”

“Alright, I get it. I’m Lucas by the way.”

You shook his hand. “(Y/n), and thank you for having me. You’re really saving me here.”

“Haha, well Weston likes to pretend he’s heartless, but he’s really just a giant teddy bear.” Lucas said and smirked as he received a glare from the ‘teddy bear’.

“Come in (Y/n), I’ll show you your room.” Weston led you into the house.

Right as you stepped over the threshold, you felt a slight chill. Something felt wrong. You turned around to see Lucas’ beaming face. He tilted his head in confusion.

“Everything good?” He asked, concern lacing his voice. You’d gotten the impression that he’s a chill guy, but now you started wondering if you’d made the wrong choice.

“N-no, everything’s great!”

There was no turning back now, you thought as you descended deeper into the house.

It was unfortunate that every time you followed one of the brothers into town again, for supplies and other things, the mechanic was never there. Sadly it seemed like his vacation wasn’t over yet which meant no way home for you. However, you didn’t have it so bad. The brothers had been kind enough to let you keep staying with them at their farm.

Honestly it was pretty good there. Sure, it wasn’t what you were used to, but some change of scenery was good for you. Not wanting to appear lazy, you helped them to the best of your ability around the farm. You couldn’t lift heavy things like they could even if you really put your back into it, and you certainly didn’t trust yourself to milk the cows; something you could do was cook! It’d become a routine for them to do their work during the day and you’d make them lunch and then dinner in the evenings. You’d never seen yourself as a homemaker, though this was kind of fun. Maybe it was the heat poking your brain or it was that you genuinely enjoyed their company.

Besides, it was really nice looking out the kitchen window and catching a glimpse of them at work. You weren’t proud, but it did something for you. The way droplets of sweat ran down their backs, not in a gross way though, in an appealing manner. During the instances they took of their shirts, you got a front row seat to see the muscles in action. You now knew Lucas had stone-hard abs and that Weston had a very nice back.

Despite the fun in getting to know both of them individually, there were some things you couldn’t deny making you uncomfortable. For example, there was the curfew. That one had a good explanation; there were wild animals sometimes running around and they didn’t want you to get hurt. That made perfect sense! Though you couldn’t shake off that one time you couldn’t sleep and had gone outside on the porch for some air. You were just relaxing and looking at the bright stars when shouting woke you up more than your insomnia. Lucas had come rushing towards you in panic. He’d frantically asked you what you were doing up. You responded honestly and he slowly calmed down. He said you shouldn’t go out by yourself anymore. If you can’t sleep you can see the stars perfectly from the living room window, or better yet, you can come to one of their rooms instead.

Then there was the room furthest back in the barn. Although it could be excused as well, they told you that’s where they slaughtered the animals. But you could swear you heard something from inside, something that doesn’t sound at all like a cow, a pig or a chicken. Suspicion arose in you, but fear held you in a chokehold and prevented you from investigating. However nice they were to you, there was no way you’d risk pissing them off. Especially since the mechanic still wasn’t back which meant you had no way to escape, if it would be necessary.

Lucas had been right, Weston wasn’t as scary as he seemed in the beginning. Sure, he was a bit rough around the edges but he had sweet moments too. Once during one of your little adventures on the porch, Weston had suddenly appeared by your side, giving you a scare. He apologised and asked why you were out. You were worried he would get angry considering you’d just recently had the ‘no more going out’- conversation with Lucas. To your surprise he chuckled at your nervous demeanor and did not reprimand you. He told you that in his opinion, Lucas was too paranoid for his own good and sometimes didn’t know when to stop. You don’t have to walk on eggshells, though you probably shouldn’t wander off the porch after dark. Better to be safe than sorry, right? Afterwards he declared he’s going to bed before wrapping you in a blanket, you didn’t even notice he had it with him until he turned you into a burrito. He was very sweet in his own way, you realised. From then on you paid more attention to the affection he undoubtedly showed. Sometimes it was hard to see, but it was definitely there.

Lucas on the other hand was more open with his affection; pulling you into hugs, asking about your day, petting your hair. All these thing he did daily. He, too, was incredibly sweet. Sometimes it was hard to comprehend that him and Weston shared DNA. They were so different. The only thing confirming their relation was little things how their eyes lit up the same way or how their smiles were similar(if you were fortunate enough to witness Weston smiling, that is). Lucas also had a protective streak. He constantly worried over your safety and wellbeing. Which was kind of nice, when he wasn’t nagging you about it every five seconds.

You better listen to them. It’s all for your best. Because if you don’t, you might end up walking into the barn, and then you might end up finding the remains of the mechanic you’ve been looking for. And that wouldn’t be very good now, would it?

[sarahreesbrennan]

Are all the themes in “in other lands” supposed to be a commentary on something? Or do you just like writing sex scenes between minors, age gaps, and reverse misogyny?

Genuine question.

Ohhh, my dear anon, I don't believe this is a genuine question.

But it does bring up something I've been meaning to talk about. So I'll take the bait.

Firstly. Yes, my work contains a commentary on the world around us. I wonder what I could be doing with the child soldiers being sexually active in their teens (people hook up right after battles), and the age gap relationship ending in the younger one being too mature for the elder. What could I possibly have been attempting when I said 'how absurd gender roles are, when projected onto people we haven't been accustomed by our own society to see that way'? I wasn't being subtle, that's for sure.

Secondly. Yes I do enjoy writing! I think I should, it's my life's work. Am I titillated by my own writing, no - though I think it's fine to be. The sex scenes of In Other Lands aren't especially titillating, to be honest. It is interesting to me how often people sneer at women for writing romance and sex scenes, having 'book boyfriends,' insinuating women writers fancy their own characters. Women having too much immoral fun! Whereas men clearly write about sex for high literary purposes.

… I have to say from my experience of women and men's writing, I haven't found that to be true.

I’m not in this to have an internet argument. Mostly people use bad faith takes to poke at others from the other side of a screen for kicks. But I do know some truly internalise the attitude that writing certain things is wrong, that anyone who makes mistakes must be shunned as impure, and that is a deeply Victorian and restrictive attitude that guarantees unhappiness.

I've become increasingly troubled by the very binary and extreme ways of thinking I see arising on the internet. They come naturally from people being in echo chambers, becoming hostile to differing opinions, and the age-old conundrum of wanting to be good, fearing you aren't, and making the futile effort to be free of sin. It makes me think of Tennyson, who when travelling through Ireland at the time of the Great Famine, said nobody should talk about the 'Irish distress' to him and insisted the window shades of his carriage be shut as he went from castle to castle. So he wouldn't see the bodies. But that didn't make the bodies cease to be.

In Les Mis, Victor Hugo explores why someone might steal, what that means about them and their circumstances, and who they might be - and explores why someone else is made terribly unhappy, and endangers others, through their own too rigid adherence to judgement and condemnation without pity. The story understands both Jean Valjean the thief and Javert the policeman. Javert’s way of thinking is the one that inevitably leads to tragedy.

Depiction isn't endorsement. Depiction is discussion.

Many of my loved ones have had widely varying relationships to and experience of sex (including 'none'). They've felt all different types of ways about it. If writing about them is not permissible, I close them out. I'd much rather a dialogue be open than closed.

I do understand the urge to write what seems right to others. I've been brain-poisoned that way myself. I used to worry so much about my female characters doing the wrong things, because then they'd be justly hated! Then I noted which of my writer friends had people love their female characters the most - and it was the one who wrote their female characters as screwing up massively, making rash and sometimes wrong decisions. Who wrote them as people. Because that's what people do. That's what feels true to readers.

I want my characters to feel true to readers. I want my characters to react in messy ways to imperfect situations. I love fantasy, I love wild action and I love deep thought, and I want to engage. That's what In Other Lands is about. That's even more what Long Live Evil is about. That sexy lady who sashays in to have sexy sex with the hero - what is her deal? Someone who tricks and lies to others - why are they doing that, how did they get so skilled at it? What makes one person cruelly judgemental, and another ignore all boundaries? What makes Carmen Maria Machado describe ‘fictional queer villains’ as ‘by far the most interesting characters’? What irritates people about women having a great time? What attracts us to power, to fiction, and to transgression?

I don’t know the answers to all those questions, but I know I want to explore them. And I know one more thing.

If the moral thing to do is shut people out and shut people up? Count me among the villains.

[honeydewandcake]

“Shrimpo, you’re pathetic”

This was based on the note found in Shrimpo’s room! I have so many theories and speculations on everything in his room it’s actually making me go crazy

Read more if you want to listen to my insane ramblings!! ↓

So I have so many things to talk about —

Firstly, the punching bags and holes in the walls. Shrimpo’s hatred towards everyone is always usually verbally, but in his room there’s proof that it’s physically too. This leads me to believe a lot of things:

— Shrimpo is somewhat strong, at least strong enough to break through the walls.

— Shrimpo tries to at least control his anger. He could easily beat someone but he limits himself by only being a verbal bully. He must relieve all his more aggressive emotions in private in his room.

— The wardrobe in his room is partially blocking holes he presumably made. This could either mean that he is embarrassed or he’s trying to hide it to avoid getting in trouble.

Overall, it’s clear that Shrimpo’s anger is a lot more than people might have expected

Secondly, the papers. There’s plenty of other toons that also have crumpled paper in their rooms but to me Shrimpo is the most interesting. Shrimpo is definitely not the type who writes, but the note and trash says otherwise. A few things I immediately think of is:

— Shrimpo can write, but everything he writes is always deemed “not good enough” by him and thrown away.

— Shrimpo is either willingly writing things or being forced to write by others (possibly as a required thing by directors and such).

— The note on his desk can tell a lot about him. The fact that he only writes about the things he hates is expected, but the way it continues is more interesting. He repeatedly writes “hate” over and over and it gets bigger. To me, this looks like Shrimpo having a mental breakdown. It’s not uncommon for someone who’s venting out their frustrations to repeat a phrase or word, but the fact that it gets bigger makes me think Shrimpo is writing it more desperately. He could have been writing to relieve stress but it only made him more frustrated, causing a slippery slope into a terrible episode. If this was in writing and not text, I expect his note to be sloppier than it seems.

— Shrimpo’s discarded paper can mean anything, but the thing I immediately think of is ideas or failed writing. Someone in a server I’m in brought up the idea that the reason why Shrimpo has only posters of himself in his room is because he’s reminding himself of all his flaws. Maybe his writing helps him cope with that or he’s trying to come up with ideas of how to be better.

Shrimpo’s room also has many knocked over furniture. He has multiple desks, traffic cones, trash cans, and a coat hanger.

— This supports my theory that Shrimpo is a lot more aggressive in private. He knocks over furniture out of frustration, imagine someone flipping a table because they got upset at something.

— Shrimpo’s room could have been a storage room. It seems to be more bland (could just be Shrimpo not liking decorating) and it has a lot of useless things. Really, the only thing that makes sense for a room is the desk, wardrobe, and bed.

— A confusing thing to me is the airhorns in his room. Shrimpo could be using these or they just came with the room. If he did use them, it would probably be on other toons as a “screw you” signal.

Sorry I talked so much, usually I don’t like doing this but I needed to yap for a good 5 minutes about my favorite toon. I love you Shrimpo!! No one could make me dislike you!! I will make many, many more theories for you. . . .

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook’s new lip piercing makes you want to cry, and he can’t live without you.

> established relationship, fluff / word count: 1.4k

> warnings: mention of or*l (f. receiving)

> in which masterlist!

note: heh surprise :D my impulsive, jungkook lover brain couldn’t resist so here’s a little something 🥲

—

“why are you looking at me like that?” jungkook nervously asks as the excited beam lighting him up gradually fades. “do you not like it?”

you remain speechless with an unreadable expression written on your face. dumbly staring at the lower right corner of his lips, it is adorned with yet another piercing that makes your boyfriend appear more enchantingly attractive in your eyes — which are, by the way, currently blurry and dazed. your brain is still fuzzy around the edges, short circuiting the longer you observe the silver stud.

it infuriates you, almost, how he still manages to effortlessly drive you crazier for him five years later.

it’s extremely rare for you to fall asleep before 10pm, and to be frank, you hate him for waking you up because you know you won’t be able to go back to sleep until 3am no matter how tired you are. and you’re still not quite certain if you’ve already registered that your consciousness has been rudely pulled back into reality; because then again, you’ve always been obsessed with his lip ring, maybe unhealthily so, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume that you’d dream of him surprising you with a new piercing just beside it.

however, there is a particular reason that holds you back from strongly wishing for that to come true.

“but you loved the ring, even the eyebrow ones… did i pick an ugly placement this time?” he wonders out loud with a frown, confused that his surprise didn’t receive the type of reaction he expected.

when he tries hard enough, he can picture them vivid enough to draw from memory… your eyes glittering with awe and adoration each time he presented himself with a new piercing or tattoo. you, showering him with love and praises that erased every ounce of anxiety he had about his life-altering decisions that usually came in the aftermath. what others would call impulsiveness, you named his fearless self-expression.

“ow- ouch- baby! what the hell? what was that for?”

with doe eyes struck by headlights, he gapes at you in surprise as he rubs his poor shoulder that was slapped without warning.

“why did you get it there? we’re not allowed to make out again until it’s healed!” you pettily complain with a drawn-out whine, knees bumping against his thighs as you bounce your crossed legs in bitter vexation.

“oh, shit.”

in real time, you witness the realization comically dawn on jungkook’s face, flabbergasted that in the thick haze of his excitement, he forgot about this excruciating restriction during the extended healing process. in his defense, it’s been forever since he got his first lip piercing.

oh, he’s in so much trouble.

he stares back at you, frozen and unblinking as he slowly speaks with a guilty wince. “ahh, you’re right… i must be out of my mind… i can’t eat you out, too… fuck, how did i survive this back then?”

the genuine innocence lacing his voice only fuels your urge to curl into a ball and cry in frustration. yearning for his touch while he’s not physically present is one thing, but this is much, much worse.

“stop talking.” you glare at him, angry eyebrows contrasting the puffiness of your face caused by sleep.

“you’re so adorable.” the endearing sight elicits a breathy chuckle from him, followed by a small whimper triggered by the pain that spreads on the lower part of his face immediately after. he brushes it off without care, muttering quietly- “come here.”

he carefully guides you to sit on his lap, sinking further into the soft mattress with your weight added on top of him. and for tonight, you allow him to manhandle you as he likes, not having the energy to jokingly pretend to argue with him. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him, only realizing how much you’ve missed him now that you’re skin-to-skin.

“don’t be upset, baby. i’m sorry.” he sweetly coaxes you into a better mood. “i will make it up to you after. i promise. i always do, right?”

with drowsy eyes still trained on the new jewelry that shines from the light of the night lamp, you sniffle and pout at him.

“and we can still do this, remember?”

the world becomes still and quiet, and the oxygen gets trapped in your lungs when jungkook holds your face in between his warm hands, crossing the short distance between you. your eyelids slowly flutter shut, lashes kissing your cheeks as his lips softly brush against yours. languid and tender, slightly sticky from your sleeping mask that smells like candy. he ends the blissful moment too soon with a gentle pucker of his lips, leaving you with a simple peck that will haunt your mind for the weeks to come, as if you’re a teenager who just had their first kiss in the middle of the dance floor.

“hmm, see, baby? not bad?” he says quietly, pads of his thumbs tenderly stroking the apple of your cheeks.

jungkook is too persuasive for his own good. the memories of you suffering last time are clouded with the new sweet memory he just orchestrated, and you’re almost convinced that it truly might not be that bad after all.

“but we need to be veeery careful like that for now, understand? so it’ll stop hurting and heal fast.”

and just like that, you’re a little more awake.

“does it hurt a lot? did you bleed a lot?”

hearing him say that he’s in pain made you worriedly react within a split second. his heart melts, and then breaks into two as he gathers all the self-control in his body not to pepper your face with kisses like he usually does.

“the piercer was good and quick, i didn’t feel a thing. but i’m definitely feeling something now.” he shakes his head, uttering the last sentence humorously.

“of course, it hurts now. you won’t stop moving… let me see.” you scold him with a roll of your eyes, slightly turning his head by the back of his ear to have a better view of the swollen flesh around the piercing.

“how is it doing?” he inquires after a few beats, curious and impatient with your silence.

and that’s when he sees that look on your face, the glittering eyes he was anticipating to meet since he finished his appointment the morning before. you grin from ear to ear, scrunching your nose cutely before giggles bubble from your chest. sheepish with your transparent delight, you hide your face in the crook of his neck, tickling him with your every exhale.

“my boyfriend is so cool, and so handsome. i’m so lucky and proud.”

that’s him. that could only be him.

jungkook, despite being elated by the compliments, can only muster a small shy smile. he carresses your hair lovingly, securing his tattooed arm around you as you threaten to slip off from his lap.

“really?”

“hm, i like it. so much…” you hum, planting a chaste kiss to the sensitive spot on his neck. “you’re always putting me through this, making me want to kiss you more all the time. this is so unfair.”

“baby, please. behave for me?” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut as if he’s in unmaginable pain. in his dramatic mind, currently flooded with love chemicals, he is. “if you keep talking like that, i will really end up risking an infection.”

you lift up your head to show him a grimace of disgust. “ew, pull it together. i wouldn’t want to kiss you with that.”

“tsk, you’re such a brat.” he calls you out with a pointed look, lightly smacking your thigh, revealed by your shorts that has further ridden up, before kneading the soft flesh under his large palm to soothe it.

you teasingly stick out your tongue in response, breaking out into laughter. and not so subtly, you squeeze your thighs together, grasping his wrist in a futile attempt to control the frenzied butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“have you cleaned it?”

“not yet.”

“then let’s do it. i’ll help you.” you climb off his lap as you eagerly tug at his arm, planting your feet firmly on the ground. “love, hurry- hurry. i want to see it in better lighting.”

exhausted after an eventful day, jungkook limply flops down, occupying the side of the bed that you’ve kindly warmed up. “you can go ahead. i’ll follow you after five minutes.”

“ugh, no, you won’t. you’ll fall asleep if you keep your eyes closed for another thirty seconds, and then i’ll have to wake you up.”

he pops one eye open, and then another, meeting your affectionate gaze with a silly grin because damn, you know him so well.

“i love you… don’t ever leave me. i think i’d seriously die without you.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[pit-and-the-pen]

Hi hi hi - saw your requests are open and I just NEED needy Azriel, I mean I want this man to be so downright desperate, hands and knees type beat just to touch and feel reader. Give me all the begging and dare I say….subby Az?

I give you full creative control on if you wanna add plot or not! Love your writing!!!

I am not used to writing desperate men so I hope I did this justice.

warnings: Smut (+18), begging, slight orgasm denial (more prolonging), teasing, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), wing play, Azriel just being needy and horny. Mostly unedited (per usual),

WC: 2.5k

Azriel assumed that this is what dying felt like. Well not really. He had been close to death enough times to know that this was the exact opposite. It felt like he was burning. It was rare that they got sent on different missions, even rarer still for one to get sent out without the other. But this mission required no males to be present and that left Azriel far away from his mate. Selfishly, he missed you. You were just doing your job. Helping evacuate a temple of priestesses and taking them to safety. But he wanted you here, back beside him in his bed. 

Every day still felt like the frenzy to him. More often than not the two of you are sneaking away to some corner or closet. He kept waiting for it to go away, for the day when his blood didn’t rage through him at the sight of you but the day never came. Not that he was complaining, you were the most beautiful female he had ever seen in his long life, and you were more than well aware of the effect that had on him. 

So he suffered. Days turned into a week and he had to leave your house entirely. Even being able to smell you on the sheets was making every inch of him ache. It didn’t do any good. No amount of training with Cass or burying himself in work. Nothing. Feyre and Rhys assured him that it was no trouble for him to stay but Azriel noted the wide birth the couple gave him as the days stretched on. Even his shadows were affected, either disappearing completely or swirling around him like a tornado. Whispering in his ears questions of where you were, where the small shadow that lived around your wrist was and just exactly why it had been so long without you. 

Azriel felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin and was about to lay into his brother for kissing Feyre in front of him when a shadow alerted him of someone entering your shared home. Not just anyone. You. He was out of the townhouse faster than he could blink, winnowing right to your front door. The front door that was still open, you just stepped through it. He stood still for a heartbeat. Only enough time for your smell to flood him. It was like a drop of rain after crawling through a desert. He took three long steps until he was able to wrap you in his arms. He felt all the tension leave his body at the felling.[A low rumble left his chest as he just held you tight against him, drinking in the feeling of your arms returning the embrace. Your hands were rubbing small circles into the middle of his back doing nothing to help the desire that was starting to burn through him. A small noise left your mouth as he scented his own arousal in the room, felt his body respond to the soft touches. 

You tried to pull out of his hold, peering up at his face slightly but he refused to let his arms loosen. Only pulling you tighter against him. Your hands trailed their way up his back, being mindful of his wings, until your fingers were resting in the shorter hairs on the back of his head, scratching at the skin there. Another low rumble pushed out from his chest, closer to a purring noise. 

“Sweetheart.” His voice was tight enough that you couldn’t help but look at his face now. He saw your lips part slightly as you took in his flushed face, knowing his pupils must have been blown wide at the crushing need that was racing through him. His shadows wrapped around the two of you, cocooning you in their warm darkness. 

“Did you miss me that much?” Your hand was now trailing down over his shoulder, his collarbone, his chest and lower until your hand had just brushed the front of his pants. 

The air whipped around both of you and you tried to adjust to the dim lights of your bedroom. 

Azriels hands were all over you. Tugging at the layers of your clothing. The silk overdress you wore was pulled over your head and thrown onto the floor. 

Azriel pulled on the strings of your corset, the stupid garment taunting him with every second it was still on your gorgeous skin. He pawed uselessly at the binding, all thumbs as you lightly giggled. He let his head rest on your shoulder. “Gods, please just get it off.” He mumbled against your soft skin. He felt your small nod and the flex of your shoulders as you went to unlace it yourself. Steadier fingers having it off in a matter of seconds. He pulled his head up and was greeted with you only in a thin under dress. That he could handle. Wasting no more time, he gripped the hem of the dress and pulled it over your head, throwing it into the same pile as your skirt. He whined,whined, at the sight of your bare skin. The slight swell of your breast, the  fullness of your stomach that was so soft under his scarred hands, wide hips that were perfect for him to grab onto. He looked at you like every inch of you was carved by the mother herself. 

He couldn’t stop himself as he sank onto his knees, like that golden thread was tied lower than normal. “Az..” You started, breath hitching as he slung your leg over his shoulder. He bit back a moan at the smell of your arousal. He wanted to drown in it. Glancing up at you, he could see your mind still far away. 

“Please. Want to make my mate feel good.” He groaned into the plushness of your inner thigh. The vibrations of his voice sending a shiver through you. Your head had barely nodded your yes before he dove in between your legs. He let out a loud throaty moan at the first swipe of his tongue between your folds. His arm going to wrap around your waist to keep you upright. Your back arched into his touch, bucking your hip when he latched onto your clit. His name was flowing out of your mouth as your hands tangled into his hair. Azriel let out a high whimper that lit your whole body on fire. You pull again and are met with the same high sound from him, matched with him trusting his tongue in and out of you. Your legs threatened to give out underneath you as he slid a thick finger into you. Eyes squeezing closed and throwing your head back as he alternated between slow languid flicks of his tongue and fast driving thrust with his fingers. You were racing towards your orgasm, and let your mate know as much 

“So close, Azzy” you moaned, legs trembling at trying to stay upright. His answering moan vibrating through you. Your toes curled against the floor, back arching pushing you closer to him and you were just about to tip over the edge when he pulled away, finger stilling inside you. 

“Az, what?” You were panting, head still a little fuzzy with the orgasm that was ripped away from you. He just shook his head, tongue sweeping out to clean off his face. He pulled his fingers out of you, a move that had you whining at the loss of feeling. Azriel rose to his full height and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling your lips to his. You could taste yourself on his tongue and it only made you deepen the kiss. His hands snaked down to the back of your thighs and you didn’t hesitate to let him lift you up, ankles locking behind his back. You thought he would carry you to the bed across the room but you instead felt one of the walls press against your back. 

“I missed you so much.” Azriel said into the sensitive skin of your neck before he sucked harshly on the skin. You rocked your hips against his, desperate for relief. Azriel pulled his head away from your neck to look you in the eyes. His pupils were so wide there was no sign of that comforting hazel. 

“Show me how much you missed me then.” A slight smirk graced your face when you heard his sharp inhale. He pressed his hips into yours, meeting your small motion. He swore lightly under his breath, a hand instantly going to fumble with the ties of his pants. Your own hands reached down to help since your position didn’t give him a lot of leverage. The two of you had his pants pulled down just enough to free his throbbing cock. You felt the bead of precum as it pressed against your stomach. His forehead pressed against yours as you reached down to line him up with your aching hole. He pressed his hips forward and he stilled after an inch. His breathing was already heavy and his wings twitched behind him. 

“Missed this too. Gods.” he pushed in until your thighs met, settling all the way in. Your head fell against the wall with a soft thud. “All I could think of was being inside you. How much I missed the way you feel around me, the way you taste.” His words were punctuated by long, slow pushes of his hips. You knew your nails were digging into his shoulders as every snap of his hips sent you up the wall. 

“Az, harder.” You stuttered out. He was moving too slow and as amazing as he felt you needed his faster, harder. Needed him everywhere. He rested his head into the crook of your neck, shaking his head in a no. 

“Want to take my time with you.” 

“Az please.” 

Another shake of his head and when you tried to press your heel into the small of his back, he wrapped a gentle hand around your ankle to stop the motion. At the contact you let your leg slide closer to the ground. Azriel looked up at your face, concern lined in his eyes. He pulls away from you and places a gentle hand under your chin. You don’t speak, just place a hand on the center of his chest and push lightly, he backs up until his legs are hitting the edge of the bed and you gently give him one last push so he’s laying on his back. You’re quick to climb onto his lap, sinking back onto him with a low moan. 

“Darling. What-” His cheeks are stained red and his voice comes out far breathier than you normally hear from the spymaster. Your thighs meet his stomach and he attempts to grab at your hips. 

“Oh no. You said you wanted to take your time, so we’ll take all the time I want.” You saw as you raised yourself off of him slightly and sank back down. He groans a broken version of  your name. Hands once again going to grab your hips. You let out an exasperated sigh and take his wrists in your hand. You press them above your head. And he could push you away in a second if he really wanted to, overpower you in a heartbeat. But he lets you keep his wrists pinned to the mattress, shadows swirling around the tanned skin under your hands, helping you hold him down you realized. “Keep them right there, Az.” You whisper into his ear, lips ghosting over the shell. He shudders slightly but nods his head. You release your hands from around his wrist and go to trail a single finger along the hard outline of his wings. He throws his head back, eyes scrunched closed as you run your nail all along the outside. Soft and steady. You reach the end and repeat the motion on the other side. 

“Gods. Please. Sweetheart. Move please.” He whines as your tongue licks along the same path of your finger. “Point made. Gods, just move.”

“I don’t think I will.” You breath against the sensitive membrane of his wings and you feel him throb inside of you. You pay it no mind, moving your hips at the perfect angle that your clit is rubbing against the hard planes of his stomach. A moan tumbles from your lips and he makes a small whimper. You feel his arms tense as he tries to tug against his shadows, but it seems that they took your warning more seriously that he did as they don’t let him budge. He bucks his hips, throwing all of his strength into the motion and you move on him. No amount of bracing could keep you fully seated. But you only give him that one thrust before you shift your attention back to his wings. 

His breathing is short and huffed as you alternate between licking and trailing your fingers against his wings. You sit up enough to see his face, his eyes are shut tight, the muscle in his jaw ticking with how hard he’s clenching his teeth together. 

Taking the opportunity, you give him a soft bite on his collarbone at the same time you lift your hips up. You move until he’s almost slipping out of you before you push back down. His wings flare out underneath him. His eyes open to look at you fully now. 

“Please. You made your point. Gods please. Move.” He babbles, sounding winded. His hands are clutching the sheet above his head. You surge forward to capture his lips as you start to really move. His hands are instantly on your hips, guiding you up and down on his long length. And you let him. You could tell he was already close, riled up from you playing with his wings for so long. 

“Wait. Sweetheart.” He whimpers out, trying to get you to slow down again. Trying to get you to cum before he does. But you only speed up your motions, 

“But you’ve been so good for me, Az.” 

“Want you.. This was supposed to be about you.” You ignore him again, closing your eyes and pushing your chest out at how good he feels. The way he fills every inch of you, the smooth glide of him against your walls. The only sounds are your moans and your skin meeting together. His hips meet yours perfectly with every thrust. Moans are tumbling out of his lips like sweet music. His hands squeeze your hips and hold you against him as he shudders underneath you. He comes with a roar and you moan loudly when you feel him empty inside of you. He keeps his grip tight as you ride him through it. You go to slide off of him but before you can you’re back is on the mattress, him hovering over you. 

“I’m going to enjoy every second of this.” He says before he lowers his lips to yours and makes you cry his name over and over again.

[bunnys-kisses]

Hey Bunny! I'd love scones with hard lemonade, please pretty please. Let Verstappen serve the sweets🥹

Also, your bakery list is literally so creative

the bakery menu

if you wanna request your own order, feel free! the bakery is still open! as for this lovely request, i am very happy with what you picked! not many picked scones so i am very interested. i also got your send message and thank you so much for thinking i'm such a good smut writer!!! order up! i also added a lil something special to this as well <3

scones ("but what if they see us!") + hard lemonade (possessive behaviour) served by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, possessive behaviour, semi-public sex, wolff!reader, daddy issues, degrading language, enemies(???), unprotected sex, sass/bickering

you could always feel max's gaze on your back as you spoke to the mechanics for mercedes. you ignored him however, but the gaze still lingered. you weren't giving him the time of day.

if anything you were going to push that dutch driver to the absolute limit. as you placed a hand on the shoulder of one of the mechanics and gave him a bright smile.

"thank you so much for everything today, you and the team did such a great job!" you could tell that the mechanic in front of you was getting a little heated from the praise. you however kept your voice loud enough for max to hear.

you then pulled away and headed back towards where your father was before the race started. you looked right through max as you walked back. you tried not to stop, you forced yourself to keep moving.

these little games you must play.

you had known max for a while. everyone knew max. you at first didn't pay him much attention, he was driving for another team. not the one you were employed at, the team your father was the head principal of.

"you have to be careful, bärchen." you father warned, "this league is all pretty boys now. you need to make sure you have your head on right. they're all heart breakers."

"like you weren't, papa?" you asked.

he replied, "i know i was. that is why i know what they will do you. stay away and focus on work."

but maybe it was the daddy issues, maybe it was how sweet he was. he didn't treat you like glass, his love was at time obsessive. he was in a way possessive of you. but within six months of being on the job, you were in bed with max verstappen.

a lot of the time it was steamy sex, with the dutchman being the type of lover that made the blush got up to your ears (as if your ankles weren't already there as he fucked you). other times it was him with his arm slung around your waist. talking about nothing, listening to him yap as you felt close to him.

almost like lovers.

you were in monaco for the weekend. you had told your father that after the time of the track you were going to stay at a friend's house, but you promised to be at the race right on time.

the night before practice you and max got into a bit of a fight. you were jealous, there were no strings attached to this agreement. so he was free to see whomever he wanted. so when you saw him on raya, you both chewed each other out.

"fuckin' manwhore."

"oh really? like i didn't have to hear all about that fuckin' engineer for three months. you know, it's hot to talk about other men while someone is fucking you, right? brat."

"slut."

so now like the vindictive bitch you were it was your goal for the day to flirt with as many assistants, mechanics, drivers, anyone who you could. and you made sure to do it in max's line of sight.

before you could reach the ferrari paddock to see what trouble you could get into. you were grabbed by someone and pulled towards them. you were met with max and his lips were on yours.

he had enough. he was done playing this stupid little game with you.

"max."

"shut it."

you two were making out behind a wall in the paddock. hopefully out of prying eyes. his hands gripped your ass while you clutched onto the front his driver's suit.

"but what if they see us!"

"tonight, come over. you still remember the code to get in?" he continued to grab at your ass, massaging the flesh between his large hands.

"i think it's tattooed on my brain. so yes, i can get in."

he chuckled, "good girl, i knew you weren't the stupid whore i thought you were. keep using that brain of yours and maybe i won't have to fuck some sense into you." then smiled at you.

you hated that degrading language made you core sopping wet it was almost uncomfortable. it didn't help that his accent was a thrum in your brain that made all proper thoughts irrelevant.

he knew this too, just like he knew everything else about you.

-

his place was nice. on the outside it reeked of expensive, but the inside reeked of man in his twenties. at least he kept the framed picture you gave him of his cats. something to "add character" to the place.

but there was little time to say hello to the animals, because when you leaned down to pet one of them, max's strong arms came around you.

"don't think you're getting away with today." he said as he watched you stand back straight and he tightened his arms around you. his lips were on your neck while he held you.

"you're a possessive fuck."

"and you're not? i'm talking to a model and you're going to rip her head off. someone likes me."

you dug your nails into his arms and said, "yeah, i don't want herpes at twenty-six."

he replied, voice close to your ear, "oh i bet that's why. not because you're a stupid jealous girl who wants the number one driver all to herself. that this was never casual for you, you're just a coward. just like your father."

you huffed and turned in his arms. you grabbed him by the face and said, "i guess you know a thing or two about coward fathers. how's jos doing these days?"

he scowled at you before he grabbed you by the shirt and kissed you roughly, "fucking bitch."

"oh, lighten up, verstappen."

he made a face before you two went to the bedroom and started to strip one another. max wanted it all off now, he was impatient that way. he wanted to see your naked body before he demolished you.

he got on the edge of the bed and leaned back on his hands. he looked at you with a haziness to his blue eyes, his cock throbbed at the sight of you. also naked and ready for him.

"you're a dog, verstappen."

"and you're the rabbit i'm going to sink my teeth into." he said with a smile as he watched you get closer and straddle his waist. you got onto his cock with ease, you had done it so many times. you were certain that an imprint of his cock size was inside of you.

you held onto his shoulders and shuddered, "god should've given you a small cock."

he chuckled, "and you'd still be like this. a shivering little horny mess."

your knees rested on either side of him onto the bed, you held onto him as an anchor to not fall off the bed. you started your pace off strong, you held onto him as you rode him.

you felt the rhythm of your thrusts in the back of your head to keep yourself at a steady pace. you looked at max while his gaze was on your breasts.

"you're a dog." you repeated.

he replied, "well, maybe if you weren't trying to sleep with the whole paddock then maybe i wouldn't have to find ways to make sure you don't. actually be a decent woman."

"oh, i thought we were casual."

he took you by the hips tightly and said, "you really are a fucking idiot. it's never been casual."

you laughed before you pulled him in for another kiss. your pace was erratic and hard. you rose and dropped your hips onto his cock which caused both of you pitifully moan and gasp.

the kisses were frantic, hot all over. his fingers dug into your hips as he tried to move you in a certain way. but you weren't changing the pace for him.

"jesus christ." you muttered as you moved up and down.

"see, you can be a good girl for me. i see you more as a wife and less of a manager. i think it's about time to have the next generation of verstappen." he kissed your neck and collarbones, "have my kid."

"in your dreams, verstappen." you rolled your hips, "i need a real driver, not some kid living out daddy's dreams."

his grip on you tightened and the truth strength came out. soon you were being moved by max up and down his cock. a noise exited your throat that was painfully erotic.

"see, still just a stupid little girl. still trying to get daddy's approval. that's why you took the job. but, i still don't know why you're having sex with me. he'd die if he found out."

you cupped max's face and silenced him with a kiss. you'd have three verstappen brats before you admitted to max that you had an affection for him. you could be married for five years and you'd still not say you loved him.

you didn't want to give him that ego.

orgasm came quick over you. your thighs quivered from the rush in your body. fuck, you felt hot all over. max even took a good bite into your shoulder to "remind" you.

"fucking hell, max." you whined.

he chuckled, "now be good and cum."

you came first, you clutched onto him. you felt a pain in your head from the intense pleasure. you rode him slower and he came inside you quickly after.

you prayed tomorrow you'd remember to buy plan b.

you slowed down after you both came and panted heavily. your nails were still in your shoulders. you core throbbed from the intense orgasm as you exhaled shakily. you were still straddling his waist at the end of the bed.

he pulled out of you and pulled you down onto bed with you. his arms wrapped around you. he asked, "are you done?"

"done what?"

he kissed at your sweaty neck, "being a bitch. are you ready to be nice again?" his voice was honey in your brain. making it tacky and gooey.

"for now." you replied.

he made a face before he kissed you, "i guess that'll have to do. now you lie there. i'm not done with you."

[wttcsms]

secrets i have held in my heart are harder to hide than i thought ; simon “ghost” riley.

pairing simon “ghost” riley x f!reader word count 2k synopsis as a last resort, ghost finds himself letting soap stay with him in your shared home. soap is understandably confused as to why there’s a pregnant young woman already occupying this supposed safehouse.  content contains completely sfw, fluff, domestic fluff, soft!ghost, ghost is absolutely whipped for you & is not ashamed of it, pregnancy, pregnant!reader, marital bliss, protective!ghost, soap & ghost bromance notes takes place in the same timeline/au as this fic! 

“We’re fucked if we can’t find shelter anywhere,” MacTavish, ever the optimist, readjusts the rucksack on his back before looking at the other operative with him.

He’s not surprised to find his partner’s expression entirely unreadable due to the mask obscuring the entirety of his face, save for a pair of eerily perceptive eyes.

“We can try to contact Price, see if he knows about any safehouses nearb—“

“Won’t be necessary.” Ghost cuts him off, sounding a bit irritated. “I know a place nearby.”

“How do you seem to always know where every single fuckin’ safehouse is?” Soap finds himself grumbling, but noticing that Ghost is already moving ahead, he shouts out a quick hey! and starts jogging to keep up with the man, afraid to be left behind (but secretly knowing that at this point, Ghost would never, no matter how many times he threatens to do so).

After trekking uphill for several miles and then proceeding to venture further into a heavily wooded area, secluded by tall trees and located near a large lake stands an almost unassuming cabin. The curtains to the house are open, but despite him moving closer, it turns out the glass had been tinted to the point where Soap’s unable to peek inside. He can only assume that whoever stays inside would be able to observe what’s happening unbeknownst to the people outside.

“You sure this place is safe?” Soap asks, glancing around. Sure, it’s isolated, and he trusts Ghost’s judgment, but fuck. It kind of sucks not being in the know for things as simple as safehouse locations.

“I sure would hope so.” Ghost grumbles, pulling out a key to stick into the front door’s lock. “It’s my house, after all.”

It’s silly to assume that Ghost doesn’t have a home. As a matter of fact, Soap has (many times) joked about the fact that Ghost probably lives up to his call name and takes refuge in a mausoleum in between missions. Still, Soap finds it a bit interesting to be inside the “Riley Residence” as he called it.

(Ghost just stared at him with those eyes that reflected nothing but exasperation before mumbling that he was going upstairs.)

There’s a large fireplace in the living room, and throw pillows that look soft to the touch resting on the couches. The whole entire cabin smells of something sweet, like cinnamon and sugar. Maybe looks can be deceiving; Soap didn’t take Ghost as the type of guy to burn candles in his cabin.

Then again… Ghost isn’t dumb enough to leave candles burning in his home especially if he knows that he’ll be gone for an extended period of time. How long has it been since Ghost went upstairs? He didn’t hear anything unusual, but Soap’s suddenly on high alert. Could there be someone else present? How safe is this place, really?

With one hand gripping his knife, Soap enters further into the cabin. He’s never seen a safehouse so decorated; the agents must have had too much free time on their hands when assembling this one. They even went through the trouble of adding faux personal touches to the place, like current magazines stacked on counters and fuzzy slippers left in the hallway.

(He glances at the pair of house shoes, thinking they’re Ghost’s but realizing that they’re much too small to belong to the bloody giant.)

As Soap nears what he assumes to be the kitchen, he catches sight of movement happening within his peripheral, and he’s quick to whip around to confront the intruder.

He’s met with the terrified screams of a woman, and before he can truly process what’s happening, he hears the unmistakable, thunderous footsteps of Ghost. His fellow operative’s got a gun in his hand and a worried look in his eyes as he examines the scene in front of him.

“What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

It’s not Soap that he’s asking; instead, Ghost is immediately by your side, tucking away his gun so he can wrap his arm around you.

Your chest is still visibly rising and falling with every breath you take as you try to recover from the shock of witnessing a man with a mohawk waving a knife around in your own home. You stare at Soap, giving him a weak smile as you reassure Ghost.

“Yes, honey, everything’s fine. I was just caught off guard. I didn’t know I should have been expecting a guest.” You’ve seemed to recover quickly, and this time you offer him a real smile as you introduce yourself.

Your last name is Riley.

And while Soap prides himself on being plenty observant, he still can’t quite piece together the insanely easy puzzle in front of him. Ghost refuses to leave your side. You called the scary masked man honey. You’ve got a thin gold band adorning your left hand’s ring finger, and there’s an unmistakable baby bump protruding from the thin fabric of your nightgown.

It’s not that Soap isn’t able to realize what’s in front of him.

It’s the fact that Soap can’t believe that someone like Ghost could ever possibly have something so… normal.

A nice, cozy little home. A cute, pregnant wife. No wonder he had been so reluctant in taking the two of them here to spend the night! He’s been trying to keep you a secret this whole time.

That bloody bastard.

Ghost isn’t nearly as forgiving as you, and he’s still glaring at Soap.

“Fucking hell, Soap. I let you in my house, and the first thing you decide to do is terrify my wife. What the fuck?”

“Simon!” You gasp out, tugging at your husband’s arm. “It’s not his fault. I didn’t hear the two of you come in. He didn’t know about me because you didn’t even tell him I existed!”

“Why would he need to know? Nosy bastard’s already always in my business.” Ghost grumbles, and you slap his arm.

“I am so sorry, Soap.” You apologize on behalf of your husband (who doesn’t look the least bit sorry whatsoever). “Let me get the guest bedroom set up for you—”

“—I already did.” Ghost says, and his gaze seems to soften when his eyes land on yours and then moves downwards to focus on the baby bump. “You don’t need to be straining yourself.”

For the next few days, they lay low in an attempt to tire out their enemies or at least get them off their backs. These few days have been nothing but a series of revelations for Soap.

For example, who would have thought that Ghost has a lovely little wife at home who he absolutely worships? He’s caught the man massaging your feet, forcing you to let him wash the dishes, and Soap doesn’t even want to know the reason why the two of you so long in the shower. (Ghost would probably kill him if he ever did try to find out.)

Every single morning, the two of you cook breakfast together. He kisses you (forehead, cheeks, lips — just depends on what’s the most accessible at the moment) every time he walks by you. You’ll say, honey, can you bring me a glass of water? but he’s already making his way towards you, glass in hand, because he’s so attuned to you.

Every glimpse of Ghost’s secret domestic life feels too intimate for Soap to watch; he almost feels as if he’s intruding on a private moment, even when the two of you are doing something as simple as being near each other.

(Do you know that every time you move just the slightest bit, Ghost mirrors the action, adjusting his body accordingly so that it’s always shielding yours?)

“You look like you’ve been dying for the chance to ask me a couple of questions,” you set down a mug of hot tea in front of Soap before sliding into the seat across from him. Ghost is out back chopping firewood, and while you usually enjoy watching the way his arms flex and his muscular back just absolutely tighten up every time he hacks up the wood, you know that Soap will never get a chance to talk to you in private.

“Was I that obvious?” He grins, feeling more relaxed whenever you laugh. You’re an awfully nice person; too nice to survive in their world, and probably too nice for the city, too. No wonder Ghost keeps you tucked away in this cabin.

“I’d be more surprised if you didn’t have any questions about our relationship.”

“I guess that’s true, huh? So, uh, how’d you two meet?” Soap can’t exactly picture a teenage Ghost with a high school crush.

“He saved my life.” There’s a healthy glow to your skin; it might stem from the pregnancy, but you simply seem to brighten up even more when you talk about your husband. “You know, you were there too!”

“I was?” He takes a closer look at you, but he can’t recognize you in any of his memories. You’re certainly beautiful, and he’s sure that if he really did meet you, he would at least remember you by now.

“Don’t worry, I think Simon will prefer it if you didn’t know me at all, anyway.” Your fingers wrap around your own mug, warming up your cold hands. “Don’t let him fool you, though. He’s such a big softie.”

Soap has watched your “big softie” stab men to death quicker than he can blink his eyes. If it was a rescue mission where the two of you met, he’s almost certain that you must have seen his less-than-sweet side as well.

“You think he’d kill me if I started tellin’ everyone what a big softie he is?”

“He’d let you get away with it. You’re one of his friends, after all.”

“Wait, what?”

“C’mon, Soap. You and I both know Simon pretty well. He’s not above sleeping in the woods. He wouldn’t have brought someone here he didn’t trust. And you might not have known I existed, but we talk about you sometimes.”

“All good things, I hope.”

“It’s Simon.” You say, simply shrugging. “I’m sure he saves the worst for when the two of you are face to face.”

“Has he ever taken the mask off with you?”

You beckon Soap to lean forward just like you, and with your elbows on the table and both of you with your heads low, you whisper conspiratorially, “I take it off for him.”

The two of you are still laughing when Ghost walks in.

You pack both of them lunches before sending them back on their way, waving farewell from the front door, one hand resting on your stomach. You and Simon already had a private sendoff; away from the prying eyes of your visitor, Simon kneels down to give a gentle kiss to your belly, staring in wonder as he feels the slightest kick in return.

“Be a good boy for mommy,” is what he whispers before returning back to his full height. It’s hard to hug you with all his tactical gear getting in the way, but he’s stubborn.

Walking out the door and leaving you and his child behind is always hard. You tell Soap to come back any time (Simon’s stare told him that that invitation would not be valid under his watch).

Soap promises he will, and Ghost just has to respect that because he’s already been kind enough to turn a blind eye to the obvious longing in Ghost’s eyes as he leaves you.

“So, Lt., tell me. I must be your favorite, eh?”

“Favorite what? Pain in the fucking ass?” Ghost retorts. The two of them have a long walk ahead of them.

“Am I the first on the force to meet your girl?”

Ghost’s silence is confirmation enough.

“I knew it! I am your favorite on the force.”

“Shut up.”

(Ghost doesn’t necessarily dispute the claim, though.)

[euphor1a]

hey, so who wants to bully me into writing instead of daydreaming about the scenes i’m supposed to write? 😃

[cvnt4him]

CAN YOU WRITE A LOVESICK IZUKU??

i’m talking practical hearts in his eyes and like a complete puppy dog🙏, this gorgeous and strong boy on his knees and at your side at every beck and call, would do anything for attention and praise. god i love him

- 😼♡

I LOVE HIM TOOO BROOO YES YES YES HE WOULD SO BE LIKE A PUPPY DOG I LOVE HIM AJDBHDHEB TY FOR THIS.

writers block be gone 😞🙏🏽

Izuku midoriya. Your puppy like, babyfaced, adorable, loving, compassionate boyfriend who'd do anything for you. That's the kind of man you wanted, and once you finally got him you were in shock. There was no way this perfect Demi god of a man was yours?!

You constantly tell him how surprised you are at how you bagged him, but truth be told he's even more surprised that he managed to bag you!!

He always dreamed of holding you and kissing your face, he spent so much time fantasizing about you his grades started slipping. He began drawing you and even thinking about you before bed. He wouldn't admit it to you now that you two are dating but he has sexy drawings of you, he also used to think about you and stalk your social media while stroking his cock.

It was embarrassing to think about so he viewed to never being it up to you. EVER.

Izuku wasn't the jealous type, he had no reason to be. He knew you were loyal and he was more than loyal. He stayed by your side all the time and assured you knew where he was when he wasn't. He hated being away from you, leaving your side made him feel lonely, cold.

Cuddling you was his favorite thing in the world!!!! Holding you close and wrapping his large muscles around your figure, he was so much stronger than you and he knew that. He loved when you called him your "big strong man" it made him so hard and flustered. He knew that if he wanted he could snap your neck like a twig, he loved that. The fact that you still got an attitude with him on some occasions and even ignored him when he accidentally angered you despite knowing what he's capable of made his cock twitch.

He loved how you couldn't give a flying fuck that he could destroy the whole world within the blink of an eye. Yet that wouldn't stop you from rolling your eyes at him and making him sit at the eye of your bed while you plunged your fingers inside of you.

Izuku loves going shopping with you, you'll never have to worry about getting lost or losing hm because he won't dare to leave your side. He wouldn't even think of it. He likes watching you giggle and get all excited about spending money and buying new jewelry or clothes. The way you jumped up and down and how your boobs bounced with every jump. How you let him watch you change in the changing room.

See, it wasn't even the fact that you let him watch, the fact that he seen your boobs spill from your bra. It was the fact that you trusted him enough to watch you in such a vulnerable state, he could've taken a picture and sent it to all his friends or made jokes about your body but he didn't and that's why you trusted him. Your trust in him made him so excited, if he were a dog his tail would be wagging like there's no tomorrow.

You and izuku had gotten in trouble for sleeping in one another dorm. It wasn't allowed, but izuku just couldn't stand being away from you!! His heart aches just thinking about how cold his side of your bed must've been next to you! How you must crave his warmth next to you. How he yearned for you to snuggle your face into his neck, the hot breath that you fanned his freckles neck making him hold back a moan.

He snuck out of his dorm quietly and crept his way to yours, sneaking inside of it without you even noticing. You seemed to be asleep, no matter, he knew you wanted him there whether you could say it or not! Nothing would stop him from getting to you!!! Izuku grabbed your body and yanked you into his larger figure, broad shoulders curling themselves around you. Your eyes shoot open as your slowly turn your head back to see izuku with his eyes closed and a dumb smile on his beautiful chubby face. For fucks sake.

Izuku loved when you needed him, when you'd call him for help because you can't get something or can't find something or just want him to buy you some food, hell do it no questions asked. He apologizes to you for you feeling like you even had to ask!!

Izuku was nothing more than like a dog, it was like he was part dog or something, like some sort of hybrid. He shook his head sometimes, his shaggy curly hair moving all around his face. The way he'd turn his head when he was confused, and that dumb smile he'd give you when he was happy. Eyebrows furrowing and his eyes blown wide, hearts forming shape in his pupil.

His eyes were glossy as he was in his knees, watching you touch yourself in front of his face, he waited for you to say he could taste you, please you. He was a good boy! And he'd continue to be your good boy until the end of time!!

His mouth opens as he inhales at the same time as you, his breaths matching yours while you tease your throbbing cunt. He moans and bites his lip his eyes staring directly at your wet squelching hole. He wanted to lick you clean, he wanted to devour you whole.

"please please please... Oh..!"

He inhales at the end of his sentence, a moan leaving his mouth at the same time as you. You moan and throw your head back, the way he looked at you like you were the last meal on earth was so sexy.

You stop your movements, simply to see how he would react and to your surprise he whimpers and whines and shoots his wide glossy eyes up to yours, a pouty frown forming on his pink lips. He turned his head to the side and let another desperate whine out for you. God this was quite the sight, you knew he liked to please you but there was no way he actually liked watching you get yourself off? Did it make him horny as well?

Yes it did but that wasn't why he wanted you to continue. He wanted you to cum hecsuse he wnyd you to feel good. He didn't care about his pleasure or if he even got to cum at all tonight, he wanted to make sure you came at least 5 times before the end of the night, whether it be his doing or your own. He wouldn't put up a fight. He liked watching.

You giggle before closing your legs and crossing them, another whine leaving his lips this time much louder and bitchy than before. You smile and motion for him to come closer. Without hesitation he crawls towards you slowly, you lay your crossed thigh and he lays his chin on it. He turns his head and drives his cheek up against the fat of your thigh, whimpering under this breath.

You raked your fingers through his messy curls, fingers slightly getting caught in the naps and kinks in his hair. He lets a moan escape his lips as he bites his lower one, a smile forming on his mouth as he looks up at you with lust filled eyes.

"want a taste, zu?"

He couldn't speak, he was sure to embarrass himself if he even tried due to his dry throat from the lack of speaking. He nodded aggressively with low whines leaving his throat. He nudges your legs open with his head before burying his face in between your thighs, the warmth that was held in between fanning all over his face.

He takes a big sniff of the aroma that leaves your cunt, he was such a disgusting perv. Getting off to smell alone was the dirtiest thing he could possibly do. He groaned before licking a long slow strike up your cunny. You throw your head back before lifting one of your legs over his shoulder which he happily held onto, he knew he'd need to, things always get pretty intense when he eats you out. Mostly on his party bc he js loves the taste of you, he always gets so pussy drunk.

He shakes his head whilst being in between your legs, slurping and licking up everything that you leak out. Izuku takes it as high praise when you moan for him and tell him what you want, how could he even attempt to be cruel and deny you of what you want?

You moan as your hand find themselves in his hair pushing his head deeper into your pussy, he obviously obliges and tries his hardest to bury himself deeper and deeper into you, his nose rubbing and brushing against your sensitive clit. When he shakes his head his nose rubs your clit in the best way that had your pussy squeezing around his pink muscle delving in and out of you at a fast pace, he then decided to add two of his thick fingers and plunged them in and out of you in repeated motions.

God being stuffed with his scarred thick digits was so good, you could only imagine how much he was enjoying himself. Sure be was a pervert but at the end of the day he was yours and you wouldn't trade him for the world.

"mmph~, c'mon zuzu, make me cum baby boy, c'mon be a good boy f'me~"

You choke out a groan, the pleasure beginning to be far too much for you to handle, you feel that impending coil inside of you threatening to break every time he moans into your cunt, sending vibrations all the way up your body. He hadn't moved back to take a single breath yet, you were surprised but honestly you knew even if he couldn't breathe he probably wouldn't even think about stopping the pleasure he was giving you. He'd rather die than deny you of pleasure, especially if you were letting him make you feel good. That was like the highest honor besties upon him. Making you feel good.

He moves his mouth to focus on your clit, sucking it in between his lips. He lets his tongue prod and poke and kitten lick it lightly while he shoves his fingers inside of you, never letting up the intense speed he had. You feel your arms begin to weaken inside of his hair, your whole body shaking and shivers above him , eyes rolling back from the way he moaned around your clit.

Izuku lolled his tongue out and gently licked stripes up and down your clit, hot breath making the sensitive bundle of nerves feel even better, the sounds that left him were so hot and dirty. The way izukus moaned as if he were the one being pleasured in such immense ways. He loved getting head from you, sure, but there was nothing better than giving you head. Hell he'd dare even say that not even sex itself was better than getting to eat you out.

He gives your clit one last long suck before you choke out a loud breathy moan and fall back onto the bed, body spasming and shaking underneath him while he worked his magic from on his knees. Izuku moans inside of your cunt and licks and sucks up everything you give him, his fingers slow down as he fucks you through you orgasm, letting tiny mewls and gentle words out.

"mm- thank you-- s'much, so good..~"

He was trying his hardest not to overstimulate you but he couldn't help it, he just couldn't pull his mouth away from you. You tasted so sweet and so good he just couldn't even try to.

You kick izukus head away shaking and twitching from the overstimulation before falling back onto the bed. He catches his breath and just stares up at you, the way your chest raised and lowered in a rhythmic pattern

Izuku is, was, and will always be enamored with you. He just loves you so so much!

AN: I wanna post more OC art chat but I'm scared, like my art style has been going through... Some changes.. and I'm js afraid that no one will like it😞

Also if you don't already know this shit is not proofread there will be no warnings and yeah!!!!! Like all of my fics 💀

[petew21-blog]

I'm the dad now

"Come on Dad, this is gonna hurt both of us. Just stop fighting and let go. You're not gonna win."

The hairy man was alone in the bathroom fighting with himself, screaming in pain, grabbing his neck and trying to comfort himself. He spoke to himself, which may sound schizophrenic, but this wasn't the case. He was being possessed for the first time by his teenage son, Joe, who had big troubles at school for skiping classes. Joe wasn't usually the type to skip school, but there was this bully he wanted to get back at. He found way to possess someone, but it took a lot of practice to do. You couldn't just possess someone asleep, but them being awake was the thing that made it so hard. They fought and the more they fought the harder it became to stay in the body. But after many many hours of possessing multiple students of his for just a few seconds, he finally felt like he could be ready to possess his bully now. If it weren't for the letter from school that came in mail this morning. Joe opened it and saw that they asked his father to come by for a meeting with the principal. "Oh, no. My dad can't see this. I have to do something." An evil and slightly reckless idea followed.

And as you guessed correctly, Joe's idea was to just possess his father and go to the meeting himself. Did he think about the consequences? No. But that didn't matter now, because his father still faught for his body pretty hard. The only lucky thing for Joe was that his father won't remember the process of possession.

"I win dad. I am stronger. You have to sleep now and let it go!"

Few minutes of fight followed and then quiet.

Joe laughed with tears in his eyes. Sweat all ower his body from the fight. "You could have atleast made my possession a bit easier than this, dad."

Now was the perfect time to hurry up, dress dad's body and meet the principal. But Joe's teenage mind went to a different place. His dad can be late. It's about Joe's life. Not him. He only has to show up

Joe P.O.V.

"Damnnnnn dad! You have really been hitting the gym recently, haven't you? Maaan look at me" I didn't expect this to be so hot. I was a bit grossed out possessing my own dad, but now I might actually enjoy this.

"I never noticed, how really handsome you are, daddy." Hairy pecs, beautiful biceps. You're a real man, I'd like to be some day. Well... not someday. Now."

"It's actually not your biceps now, dad. It's all mine. Just look at it. So amazing. The boys at school would be so jealous. No they WILL be jealous. Just wait till I show them who I am now."

"Oh dad. Why the hell have you been hiding all this from me. I would have never thought about possessing that fucker Bill. Why should I even bother now about some dumb school shit. I can be an adult man for fuck's sake. I am the man now. I am my DAD."

"These muscles are so firm and tight. I wonder how many times a week you have been going. Might get used to it now." Wait, am I really thinking what I am thinking? Do I want to stay like this. No, this must be the after efect of possession, not just a desire to be the hairy dad of mine.

"Haha, I'm so heavy now that I'd most certainly beat all the boys in the football club. Well maybe not the quarterback, but everyone else I might. Maybe I should get Trevor to possess him. We could enjoy being two studs together. I would be a bit older, but I'm sure he won't mind. Especially not while we are exploring our new bodies."

"Which brings me to this awful towel." I dropped it on the floor where it belongs

"Wohohooo, much better. Damn dad, the razor stays clean all the time for a reason right? I won't change that don't worry. I'm pretty sure Trevor likes his men hairy. Not like he would know what a man's touch is like or even sex. But tonight he will. I will let him scratch my beard, kiss my biceps, massage my back."

"Oh boy, I have to go take care of this beast now. Don't want to cum in the principals office. Haha, I love being my dad."

[solaarbeeam]

NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK

windbreaker x gn!reader

warnings/cw: no warning, usage of Y/N and L/N

syn. - a new school and gang has come to town, the boys all have their respective opinions on it.

characters :: haruka sakura, hayate suo, umemiya hajime, togame jo

a/n:: been obsessed with this anime for a minute now but this is my first work in the fandom sooo lemme know if yall like it!! if i forgot a character or you wanna see more just lemme know what character you’d wanna see <33

side note, this fic is completely self indulgent because i know the usual shtick is ‘oh they protect you’ which of course nothing is wrong with that, but i also like it more when reader is also badass and can fight, so here we are!! pls enjoy 😊

HARUKA SAKURA

He had been sent to your home grounds on Umemiya’s orders, as a way to get to know the new gang in town. Rumors has it that this new gang is strong, and had a hand in orchestrating a raid on Zinc which has now left Zinc in a horrible position.

You already know how he feels about strength and what it means to be strong, so he would’ve checked it out by himself, but Umemiya had said to go with Suo and Nirei, and so here they are, about to cross over into your territory.

Once they pass the overhead bridge, he’s met with a school building, not all that bigger than Bofurin, with graffiti in some spots. On the front, there was a flag, a soft blue color with a sun, its rays moving in a spiral.

Sanshedo. Sun Shade. Interesting name, he thinks.

“Are you sure we can just waltz in here? Aren’t we gonna get in trouble if we just come in with no warning?” Asks Nirei, obviously shaking from the unfamiliar surroundings.

In Sakura’s opinion, who the hell cares? If it’s such a big issue, then this new gang can deal with it-

“Your friend is right, yknow? I could’ve said you were intruding and have our Head send a couple guys to deal with you three.”

He whisks around, taking in your features. From the style of boots you’re wearing to the look you’re giving him, Nirei, and Suo.

The very first thing he thinks, is pretty.

He blushes as soon as the thought comes to his mind.

“However, seeing the jackets you three have on, I’m not worried about starting problems. You guys are members of Bofurin, right? Windbreaker?”

He nods frantically, unsure as to why he’s so nervous. He’s not in a fight, and even when he is, all he feels is anticipation, only hints of nervousness, and excitement. Why is it different now?

Why is it so different with you?

He can feel Suo’s stare at his back, and he’d been inclined to look at him if it wasn’t for the way you just trapped him in place, unable to move.

“Cool hair, by the way. Also, Blondie, I like the clip and I like the earrings, eyepatch.”

“It’s Haruka Sakura, not just cool hair.”

But why did it feel so nice to hear that you think his hair is cool instead of weird or scary. What the hell is going on?

“Well, Haruka Sakura, the name’s L/N Y/N. Bofurin, welcome to Sanshedo.”

You throw your hands up to showcase the school behind you, the symbol of Sanshedo, god he needs to remember the name, shown on the back of your jacket.

“Also, I hear you’re strong, Sakura. Care for a friendly fight?” A sly grin makes its way on your face, and he can feel his lips curl up into a smile.

“You’re on, L/N.”

Somehow, this new gang doesn’t seem to be half bad after all.

HAYATO SUO

Hayato Suo has always been the type to play with his food. Not in a literal sense per se, but when it comes to fights.

He is very much intrigued when he sees you, very much multiple knuckles deep in a fight. The way you fought them was so mesmerizing to him, how you moved was so fluid and graceful.

Alas, he was on town patrol with Sakura and Nirei, so all good things must come to an end. Nirei shouts the word ‘intruder’, and in that same breath, you had finished the group of thugs.

“Oh shit, it’s Bofurin!”

The three of three stop, not knowing what to do. Kiryuu and Tsugeura fall in step behind them, all brandished on Sakura’s opposite sides.

Suo pauses, noticing the light blue color of your jacket. The pin on the jacket has a spiral, and from the side view, he can see glimpses of a design on the back of the jacket, not unlike their enemy-turned-friend Shishitoren.

He eyes you up and down, nothing that seems threatening in your stance or posture. How interesting.

Hayato Suo has always been a curious child.

“Yes, that would be us, and you are?”

Nirei looks up at him in exasperation. He pointedly ignores it.

“L/N Y/N of Sanshedo. We’re a new faction in town. Say, you’re Hayato Suo, right? Fancy a spar?”

Well, he has always been the curious type, and Umemiya has always told them that fights are conversations, so why not?

“Sure.”

Sakura splutters. He’s been trying to get a fight out of Suo for ages!

What can he say? You’re very pretty and very interesting, is there anything else he needs in order to make a connection?

HAJIME UMEMIYA

As the leader of Bofurin, he has a responsibility to all of the people, his family, under his jurisdiction. He has a duty to the townspeople as well.

Quite frankly, he’s had a lot of foresight, especially when it comes to a certain two-toned first year, but he could’ve never predicted this.

A new gang, thats apparently been in existence for a while now, only two years younger than the founding of Bofurin, and he sees this as his responsibility to go and check it out.

A poor oversight on his part, in his opinion.

He shrugs on his coat, making sure to let Tsubakino that him and Hiragi are heading out, and exists the Furin premises.

The minute he gets there, he sees a whole abandoned school building, but looks big enough to be mistaken for a mini-airport.

Outside, he sees a couple people wearing identical jackets. A light blue colored varsity jacket, with spirals etched into the buttons and a sun branded into the back of the jackets.

A sun? Interesting choice of mascots.

Hiragi taps his shoulder, pointing to the windows of the building.

When Umemiya looks to the building, he sees the windows lined with nothing but people looking at them, all branded with the same light blue jackets, boys and girls mixed and alike.

Okay, he admits it. Walking into another gang’s territory without prompting is his fault, but he was curious!

“You work for Bofurin? Come with me.”

They’re both taken to an office. It has the same logo on the jackets on the wall, with the kanji for the gang in the middle.

Sanshedo. Sun Shade.

“Boss? I brought two people that wanna meet you-“

“Look! I got some new gemstones! I have topaz to add to the collection now- Oh!”

You snap your head to attention, to which Umemiya is looking at the collection of jewels with sparkling eyes. You look back at him with sparkling eyes as well.

You both share a hyperfixation. What is there not to like?

He can feel Hiragi’s deadpan stare behind him.

“Oooh! What do you like?”

“Plants!”

“Cool! Hey, you lead Bofurin, right? What’s your name?”

“Umemiya Hajime, you?”

“L/N Y/N, leader of Sanshedo. Care for a chat?”

Sure, he originally came to see what was up, discuss territory and make a possible alliance, but hey! This is cool too.

And you’re very cute. Like, very very cute.

TOGAME JO

Well, here’s the thing about Togame and his relationship with Shishitoren thus far.

He’s changed, him and Choji, that doesn’t mean they aren’t still just as vigilant with protecting and managing their territory as they were before the Bofurin Tournament.

So, when he hears there’s a big ass brawl in between two different gangs in his and Choji’s territory, he puts himself into action immediately.

He slings on his jacket, the embroidered lion’s head contrasting with the monk-like garb he had on the daily. Glasses catching sunlight, running with Choji.

Only to come to the scene to find you, minor cuts and scrapes along your face, and blood on your knuckles that really didn’t seem to belong to you.

Then he looks down to see the other guys, and finally thinks, yes, you whooped ass.

However, that doesn’t mean that you get off scot free. This is his territory after all, and if it went unchecked, it would be worse for Shishitoren’s already bad reputation.

“And who might you be, beating up people in our territory.”

“I honestly couldn’t care less. I’ve seen those jackets, you’re Shishitoren. I have no business listening to people who prey on the weak for fun.”

“I don’t care what you think of us, you’re still in our territory. Also? You talk too much.”

“You beat up middle schoolers, I really don’t want to hear it. I just helped you out with Zinc, give me a break.”

His eye twitches. It’s too damn early for this.

And you’re quite the looker. It’s a shame you’re enemies as of right now.

Damn you’re cute. Fuck, maybe he can try to redirect the conversation?

“How about we start with your name and who you’re under then we can chat.”

Hopefully over some ice tea and your number in his phone by the end of today. Can he pull it off? Shit, he’ll certainly try.

“Y/N L/N. Right hand to Sanshedo’s leader. You? I’ve heard of Tomiyama over there, but not you.”

You are so lucky you’re drop dead gorgeous or else he would’ve drop kicked you into next week.

“Togame Jo. Right hand to Shishitoren’s leader. Care for a chat over a drink?”

You look at him some type of way, but agree in the end.

Now if only he can get your number, today will be perfect.

© solaarbeeam 2024. do not repost or translate to any site.

[banj0possum]

Alistair x (platonically) Teen Reader

In the fic he is like oh my god a bride, he walks in and instead of an adult..or a bride-

They find a teen, who literally threw a pebble at him, an angsty teen💀

I’m very happy to read ur fics and usually pair them with teen/child mc because I find it funny because they expect the love of their life

and teen mc standing there :🧍‍♂️

anyways sorry for the long request, luv ur writing, and ur art :D

Yandere! Evil King x Teen! GN! Reader

CW: platonic relationship, Alistair is a bit of a DILF so do with it as you will, Dads are hot you guys!! READER IS A MINOR.

👑 Who is this sassy lost child?

👑 His minions kidnapped you while you were on a carriage ride back to your kingdom.

👑 He was hoping for like a princess or something to marry and take over the kingdom with or whatever so like...what tf he gonna do with you???

👑 Clearly you were too young to be in a situation like this, but theres no way he's giving you back without a reward, so yes he still holds you for ransom.

👑 "Child, I am Alistair, King of-ACk!"

👑 Did...did you throw a pillow at him?!

👑 "How dare yo- AHK! Stop it!" another one..

👑 You refuse to listen to anything he says, you just wanted to go home

👑 You two had a bit of rivalry for a bit. He hated you and you hated him.

👑 He promised not to show any affection or care towards you since in his eyes, your actions didn't deserve it. How can someone be so rude to a king !?

👑 But he starts to notice you don't eat much. He never sees you in the dining hall and has only seen quick moments of you nibbling on some bread or pastries the servants gave you.

👑 He scoffed, so irresponsible! You must eat a proper meal right this second or you'll starve!

👑 You're surprised to see a meal prepared for you during your routine trip to get a snack from the pantry with a note on the plate.

👑 "Next time, ask for a proper meal. I don't want your parents to think I've been starving you. -Alistair P.S. go to bed early."

👑 Huh...

👑 Alistair smiled from the doorway of the dining hall, watching you eat up with a smile on your face. You might have been too scared of him to ask for food so you've been sneaking snacks while he wasn't looking.

👑 Of course he wasn't doing it because he cared about you, he just didn't want royalty like you to resort to such pathetic means to eat!

👑 Why are you still sad? Perhaps he should get you some things to keep your attention..

👑 He asks (threateningly may I add) about your hobbies or interests.

👑 The next morning your cell (which has been upgraded to a lovely room in the castle because he didn't want you to be filthy and gross in a dungeon) was filled with anything he could find that he thought you'd enjoy.

👑 Don't think he wants you to be happy! He's just tired of seeing you sulk everywhere!

👑 He denies everything, but you swear you could see a tiny smile on his face when you hugged him happily.

👑 You start being a little more open to him, showing him anything you've made or done with pride and he'd receive it gratefully, but he won't show it of course.

👑 "I made you this friendship bracelet!"

👑 "I've seen better jewelry."

👑 "Oh I'll take it back then I guess.."

👑 "No, it's mine now, back off."

👑 Drawings and the like that he said would be thrown out as soon as you left would be seen framed in his room

👑 It would be a..waste of good canvas..

👑 And of course he buys a few books of your choice for you to read, he'd be damned if your brain turns to mush.

👑 Bro bro he'd be the type to let you swing around while holding onto his bicep.

👑 If you ever have any problems, or come to him in a bad mood, he'd have no idea how to help other than to sit down and listen to your troubles.

👑 He's not the most physical when it comes to affection, but you bet your ass he's gonna do everything he can to cheer you up.

👑 At this point he's rewriting his demands for the ransom. Either your kingdom lets him sign some adoption papers or he's starting a war.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Long Snake Moan 5

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki

Summary: your boss gives you a task you’re not prepared for.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

He’s still there when you return to your desk. Just like the ring on your finger, Loki is immoveable. Your knuckle hurts from trying to yank it off.

You sit at your desk and try to ignore him as he stares from one of the acrylic chairs across from you. They’re rarely used, more so for the illusion of accommodation than anything. 

His gaze casts a blazing heat over you. Your focus is fractured by his unyielding observation. He hums, a taunting tune, as you type and pretend to be alright. You’re not. You’re far from it. 

That sinking doom is muddled in a sludge of disbelief. You just can’t accept this is real and yet hat pit in your chest assures you otherwise. How did he do this? Thor always says his brother is a trickster and you know well of Loki’s unsavoury past, as most New Yorkers would, and yet, this is nothing you could ever predict. 

“What is it you mortals call it?” He speaks at last, jarring you from your troubled trance. “A honeymoon? Would you like to go away, darling? I know this place on the other side of the moon. Your moon, that is... it’s not too derelict and the sky is rather romantic--” 

“Stop,” you splay your fingers over the keyboard. “I’m working.” 

“Mm, yes, you’ve some time to go...” he checks the watch on his wrist. “What are we at? Less than two hours. I must admit, I am counting the minutes.” 

You stand and take a deep breath, “I need a tea.” 

You twist on your heel and march away. You doubt caffeine is going to help your nerves. It’s more that the flavour is familiar enough to offer some shred of comfort.  

As you enter the breakroom, he’s already there. You hate that. How does he do that? You glance over your shoulder then turn back to the room. 

“What is it you prefer?” He peruses the selection of pods. “Mm, pumpkin spice?” He takes a pod and sniffs it, “smells less than appetizing.” 

“I can do it myself,” you approach him and reach for the box of oolong pods. He catches your hand and runs his thumb decisively over the large emerald. You wince as he keeps hold of you. 

“Darling, I am your husband. Allow me to show you the advantage of this union--” 

“I know why you did it. You get to stay. I never wanted you gone, I only delivered the message. You don’t have to do this. If you want to stay, I’ll lie but this is... it isn’t necessary.” You tug but cannot free yourself of his snare. 

“While that may suffice, I don’t have much faith in your skills of deception. I have considered all facets of this plan and we must prove this union to be genuine, thus we may as well commit--” 

“Loki,” you hiss and his brow arches. “Prince, whatever, this is strange. In your research did you not figure out that ‘mortals’ as you call us get to know each other first?” 

“Not always. Not for the majority of your history. There are some rather entertaining scenes along the way. Some I had the pleasure of witnessing myself,” he snickers. “An arranged marriage is not unheard of, even presently in some regions. I could not wait to charm you but I can more than make up for that.” 

“Charm me? You couldn’t even ask me? Talk to me?” 

“We are speaking now. We are working through our first marital hurdle. Together,” his grin assures you that he is being less than authentic. This is a game to him. “Allow me to prepare your tea, wife. You are hard at work.” 

You scrunch up your nose in frustration and he lets you go as you pull away, “why me??” 

His lashes flick up and down as his lips curve deeper, “when you say my name, I imagine you moaning it, and it doesn’t sound so bad.” 

You gurgle. Your stomach knots and tugs. Something inside you plucks. You step back and hug yourself, as if hiding from him. 

“Uh, I...” you look away and shake your head. “You’re right. I’m working so I would appreciate the tea. Thank you. Just milk, if you don’t mind. Please. Er.” You wobble around on your heels. The slither of his voice sticks in your ears and you smell smoke. What is happening? 

You go back to your desk and sit heavily. You stare at the screen as it hazes to a medley of colours. The font obscures in your distant vision and fold your hands on the edge of your desk. 

This is very strange. This is hard to swallow. It’s not what you had planned for today. Or really ever. Not just marrying Loki but anyone. You’re perfectly happy alone. You’ve built a small life for yourself. It’s not that bad. You like the routine and the simplicity and now he’s gone and messed it all up. 

“Darling,” he purrs as he appears with your tea, jarring you from your gloom.  

You sit back and bite down on your tongue. He sets the cup on your coaster, coming close enough that you roll back in your chair. As he stands straight, you rest your elbows on the armrests. 

“You don’t have to pretend to be nice now. You’ve already messed it all up.” 

He laughs again. You hate that. He thinks everything is so funny. This is your life. 

“Messed what up, exactly? I know a Midgardian’s life cycle, I’ve lived through many and so by my estimate, you are overdue for marriage--” 

“That isn’t-- oh my god,” you drag your hands down your face. You drop them into your lap and look at him. “When I told you, you were angry. You looked at me like you hated me. So, how do you think this is going to work?” 

“Hate is powerful but there are things that can overwhelm it,” he shrugs. “I do enjoy the way your legs look when you walk in those shoes and your skirt compliments you well. Now, I know you do not hate me, I can read others rather well. You are intimidated yes, but fear can also make one...how should I put this, sexually aroused?” 

“Oh god. Please,” you wheel back to your desk and shield one side of your face with your hand. “That’s not—Like I said, we can pretend.” 

“This marriage is very much real, darling,” he intones. 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“No.” 

“Yes, it is--” 

“Lokiiiiii,” you growl and pop your head up to snarl at him. 

He smirks and tilts his head, “ooh, say it again.” 

“Stop, please.” 

He chortles and his eyes flare. You don’t like the way they glint, “darling, your dear husband brewed you a tea, please, do not let it grow cold.” 

You sigh and look down at the cup. You raise it and blow the steam away. You sip. It’s rather nice, richer than you would expect. In fact, it’s so good you can’t stop drinking. You’ve had that oolong a dozen times over and you’ve told Tony to get a different brand as it is far from your favourite, but today, it is like honey. 

You wipe your lips at the dribble left behind and set down the cup. Loki resumes his seat by the wall, “hmm, just over an hour to go, darling.” 

[twstgarden]

❀ ❝ 𝟭𝟮 𝗽𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝘀 ❞

━ idia shroud x gn! persephone! reader ━ idia wonders how he got lucky with you, and everyday, he wonders if you really are there by his side and not just a figment of his imagination. (f/n means first name)(reader can be yuu or an oc)

requested by: @glass-anna11 request type: scenario requester’s message: “Hello! May I please request for fluff relationship with Idia and a Persephone-like S/O please?" florist’s note: hello, dearie! of course, i love idia, not sure if this is fluffy though. apologies~

this work does not contain spoilers for chapter 6, ignihyde’s arc.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

ko-fi here if you want to support me

idia was still not convinced that you were his. you were the epitome of perfect to him: kind, sweet, and drop-dead gorgeous. not to mention, you also can be wise and mature when you need to. the contrasts between your personality paired with the affection you gave him were enough to make him think he was dreaming.

'the gods must be playing a joke on me,' thought idia as he watched you hum a tune to yourself while making some flower crowns, seated on his carpeted floor surrounded by flowers you picked in heartslabyul's garden.

god forbid you'll ever get in trouble for that, but knowing you, you might've asked for permission before picking their flowers. his console rested on his hands while he was waiting for his game to load, his eyes stuck on your radiant beauty.

however, the sounds of his game's background music playing made him resume his concentration back on the screen, and he once again tried to distract himself. it took a few hours until he tore his gaze away from his game and noticed you were no longer in the same spot as you were before.

he wondered where you were, and as soon as he finished playing, he got out of his seat and looked around, "n/n...?"

did you leave? have you gotten bored of him? have you gotten tired of being the one to take initiative? did you find someone else that's better suited for you - someone that is not a gloomy, underworld keeper like him?

thoughts flooded his mind, and just as quickly as they came, they instantly disappeared the moment you entered the room with two cups of instant ramen in hand, pausing your tracks as you two stared at one another for a while before you smiled.

"i went to make some instant ramen while you played. i thought you might be hungry, so..." you trailed off whilst he stood there with eyes wide open as if he had seen a ghost.

"...why are you so caring?" mumbled idia, making you tilt your head a little. "what do you mean?" you asked before placing the instant ramen cup on his desk while you ate yours.

"i mean, why are you so kind to me?" asked idia once more as you paused eating your ramen and set it down, realising he was still in disbelief that someone was actually taking care of him like this no matter how much it seemed like he was not returning the gesture.

you cupped his cheeks, still smiling sweetly at him, "because i love you, idia."

love.

you love him.

he stayed silent for a moment, his thoughts running wild again as he looked into your eyes, seeing nothing but genuine feelings. he eventually held your waist - in a rather awkward manner - as he smiled a little at you.

a soft sigh left his lips, growing nervous as he was about to take the next step. with one arm around your waist, he used his free hand to reach out at the drawer behind you, opening it and grabbing something that you did not see.

"hm? what is that?" you asked, curiosity brimming your mind as you eyed his enclosed hand. he took his arm off from your waist as he gulped, placing a hand under your chin to make you look at him as he presented the candies in his hand, "would... you like some?"

thinking it was just him being nervous about offering things to you, you shrugged and smiled at him, grabbing the 12 candies in his hand as he eyed you for a bit while you spoke, "sure, thanks!"

you then looked at the candies. it was red in colour and round, just like the other hard candies that idia casually eats when he is bored. not caring about what flavour it might be, you unwrapped the treat and popped it in your mouth.

"hm... tastes... like pomegranate...?" you mumbled, making idia nervous as he spoke, "are you not fond of it?" you smiled and replied, "no, i did not mean it like that. it tastes great!"

idia sighed in relief as he smiled at you, awkwardly wrapping his arms around you once more as he said, "that's a relief... they're local candies from my hometown." you hummed in response as you continued tasting the pomegranate candies, "from the island of woe? huh, they taste great."

"yes..." trailed idia as he thought to himself, '...so they are unaware of the island of woe's tradition relating to pomegranates... how do i tell them that offering pomegranates to someone is equivalent to a declaration of love without sounding so awkward?!'

© twstgarden 2024 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[melodic-haze]

remote vibrator in public w sub robin?? 👀

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Robin x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Exhibitionism, mentions of corruption, semi-public sex mentions at the end

☆ — NOTES: Wait I didn't even realise I had essentially already done this oh my god 😭😭😭😭😭😭 anyway is a cheeky Robin ooc I wonder if it is..........my bad gang I actually haven't finished Penacony yet 😭 ik like spoilers

Such a move spells TROUBLE for a universal celebrity like her.............good thing she likes the trouble you put her through ☺️

You've seen how she dedicates herself to her multimedia craft, putting her all into performing arts for the sake of inspiring people and making everyone happy. Now, you want to see how she does with.......performing for a different reason :3

"Such a risk would be much more trouble than it's worth, you know."

"If it's 'so much trouble', then why are you smiling like that?"

"Maybe I just find your request amusing. You know that the press are determined to spot anything that may give them a good scoop."

It's not as if Robin was wrong—a cosmically-famous figure like her would be risking the possibility of complete and utter ruination with such deviancy, along with.. well, having to face her brother. And The Family too, but mostly her brother. She had the right to be worried.

..But, well, she doesn't really seem to be worried right now, despite her words. If anything, the expression on her face as she leaned on the wall and the slight fluttering of her wings showed a different feeling.

As if she were the cat that got the cream.

"Uh huh," you leaned back on the chaise with a knowing look, eyes narrowed and arms crossed, "what I know is you're not saying no..."

She lets out a false sigh as she pushed herself off the wall to head to you, "Aw, I thought I led you off my trail."

"Like you do with the press? Oh, please." You rolled your eyes, "I know you much better than that."

"You seem so sure."

"Am I wrong?"

"Mm.. no, I guess you're not."

Then she sits down on your lap and wraps her arms around your neck, the wings on her hips wrapping themselves around the both of you like a barrier that separates you from the rest of the world, "And neither are you wrong about my lack of your refusal."

Your hands snake themselves over to your lover's waist.. before moving down further and lightly squeezing her ass, "So that's a yes?"

"Mhm," she hummed, her voice reduced to a raspy whisper, "I could never resist you, sweetheart."

"What a coincidence—I could never resist you either. Must be a Halovian thing, with that halo of yours."

"Haha, who knows."

And that leads on to your present situation: Robin, as an important member of The Family and a famous singer, was invited to a gala as a special guest. Naturally, she attended and was thankful that they allowed her to invite a plus-one. Considering that Sunday had his own invitation, you were practically the most obvious pick out of everyone she could've chosen, both because you were her most important person.......and because this was a perfect opportunity for the both of you

So here she was, clinging to your arm as you talked to some.. some random who was (unsurprisingly) one of Robin's fans, one that's REALLY obsessed with her too, apparently. And really, she wasn't sure whether to thank you for giving her a different thing to focus on or silently plead to you somehow to cut it out, but she essentially clamped her mouth shut for most of the time you were there, not actually trusting herself to let out a coherent sentence

Not just with that one guy too, you do this through the night—your hand mostly in your pocket as you manipulated the controls of the vibrator within her, usually during inconvenient moments to mess with her a bit

During times you're left alone with her as everyone else goes to do other things and talk to other people, you taunt her of how if she doesn't hide it good enough then people miiiight start suspecting something's wrong ☺️☺️ and she wouldn't wanna ruin her career like this, would she ☺️☺️☺️☺️ oh that'd be such a huge shame ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

At first she does actually taunt you back, lightly boasting to you that it takes a lot more to faze her and that it's sweet of you to try...........but as the night progresses you find that she fires back at you less and less, your favourite songbird getting increasingly more quiet, just like how her panties are getting increasingly wetter. But she bares with it with a smile anyway, disregarding the rosy tint in her cheeks as simply applying too much blush HAHAHAHA

It's not just when you two are together either!!! You've both made sure that the toy has a big enough range that you can walk around without the connection being severed from the distance, so it was rather easy for you to manipulate it even while you were away from her. Oh, and how FUN it is, esp when you see her try to look around for you as her wings flutter restlessly

It's actually rather impressive to watch though—even when the night toiled away and it got increasingly harder for her to stop herself from cumming herself silly from sheer frustration, she keeps herself in check. It's almost as if she were completely unbothered, acting the perfect part as a beautiful socialite at a grand event as she sang with (very false) confidence. You would've been fooled......if it weren't for the fact that she had telepathised her need for you to just bend her over somewhere and fuck her dumb instead of letting her continue with this toy inside of her. You almost feel bad

Keyword: almost, especially when you decide to get braver and mess with her a liiiiittle bit more. And she would've been fine with it!!! At least, if it weren't for the fact that this was with HER FUCKING BROTHER LOL

Halovians, the musical and emotional creatures that they are, can probably communicate via special frequencies right?? At least, that's my personal hc, like you can't actually use a radio to intercept it and listen in bc it's like a Halovian-specific kinda thing that can only be read through their halos. Idk how they work lol don't sic me

Anyway through that logic, I feel like Sunday picked up signals of distress from his little sister. He's probably more sensitive to her frequencies too, with how yk. They're related. Like sharing genetic code except it's like if you look at a sound visualiser and see multiple lines at once and the Oak siblings have that one similar line or smth. So he can tell that SOMETHING is wrong with her, just not what specifically (esp when Robin's probably trying her best to block out signals of her lust from ever notifying her brother that smth more is happening)

"Are you certain you're feeling alright, Robin?" Sunday's voice held a sense of urgency and protectiveness, as expected of the one that had been there for her as the one constant before she had left Penacony, "I can tell that something is off.. and your feathers are a bit ruffled."

The worried emotions he had sent to Robin, along with a request to pry into her psychical wellbeing, didn't help the singer at all in terms of calming down—the possibility of her beloved brother becoming unwillingly privy to the fact that her inner workings are so utterly perverse and corrupted scares her. The fact that you had slowly switched the vibe's speed between an agonisingly slow pace and an upward climb as the exchange went on added to the torture.

Though compared to the rest of the night, this time actually felt like you were taking mercy on her, with the way you hadn't decided to suddenly ramp the intensity up out of nowhere.

(And there was that twisted feeling inside her that actually liked the thought of being an R-rated spectacle in front of all these people around them still threatening to take her focus away.)

To keep up the charade as she continued to block Sunday's attempts in peering into her enotions, she could only do what she did best; perform. So she nods her head with a smile, though the latter action didn't really need that much acting, "Yes, I'm feeling alright. I appreciate the concern, brother, but nothing's wrong. Perhaps it's just exhaustion—I don't know how you.. mm.. how you deal with it all the time."

"I could say the same to you," he reciprocates her smile, if a tad bit crooked from his worry, "I think it takes a lot of inner strength, to take on the attention of a universal crowd. Luckily, I know you can more than handle it."

The blue-haired sibling hummed, her smile widening from her brother's confidence, "It's because I know I have you to fall back-- on..!"

The grey-haired sibling furrowed her eyebrows in turn at the sudden yelp, "Are you quite sure you're okay..? You're worrying me, dear sister."

...

Yeah, no, she couldn't carry on such a conversation like this.

Another nod as she digs her nails into her palms in an effort to redirect her thoughts from the overflow of slick in the apex of her thighs, "Y-Yes, I'm fine... I think I just need to take a walk around to.. calm myself. I feel rather warm."

He doesn't reply immediately, leaving Robin in suspense. Could he have figured it out?

..Turns out no, as he lets out a small sigh, "Alright, just remember to tell me if something's wrong, yes? I don't want your comeback here to be an unpleasant one."

"I will, thank you."

She turns around in a hurry—though not that much of a hurry, lest he either gets more suspicious or she somehow makes the toy's effect worse—and leaves, making a beeline for you before grabbing onto your wrist and dragging you off before you could say a word (though the small smirk on your face said all you needed to say).

And Sunday clocks the two of you leaving the main hall together with a raised brow. His initial instinct is to go investigate himself—he knew better than to believe his sister's act, of course... But he thought better of it.

He had an inkling that perhaps this wasn't something he should involve himself in.

And his gut feeling was right, esp when Robin dragged you out and into the first private, empty room she found, pushed you down and started grinding onto your lap like a bitch in heat 🥰🥰🥰🥰

People are going to talk for a WHILE about your sudden disappearance, the both of you KNOW this very well, but right now? Robin doesn't gaf, not when her mind's been reduced to a horny mess as she begs you to finally get her off yourself. Whether you do or you DON'T??? Up to you LMAO

Either way, it's DEFINITELY something unforgettable........and dare I say, tellingly exposing of what your songbird likes 🫶

"Why do I deal with such risks again?"

"Because you love me?"

"..Mm. Yes, that's true."

"Wait, really? That's giving me too much power, birdie."

"And that's perfectly fine," her lips curl into a light grin, "There's nobody else I'd rather obey."