#I hope this makes an inkling of sense

[cxciditfilius]

@the-delightful-temptation

Lucifer didn't want to admit just how often he popped by Ozzie's to relax . Being the ruler of hell was hard work . Even the devil himself needs to take a break sometimes .

He never announced his arrival though . He liked the element of surprise . Though his presence was usually made a big deal sooner or later .

Argh , fuck it . Why would he be secretive anyway ? He sat down , expecting to see some hot dancers . Men , women or other , as long as they were sexy .

He snapped his fingers , drawing the attention of an imp waiting tables .

´´ Whiskey on the rocks . And tell Ozzie I'm here to say hello . ´´

He had something planned . For better or worse .

[erial-c]

REDACTED THEORY POST !!!

possible spoilers for the balance, sovereign state, carpe deus, and hush's audios . bare with me because this is horrifically long

tagging @mokozroach hi :3

an amalgamation of theories i have regarding the plot heavy series in the redacted verse :3

so i'm gonna try to discuss 3 different things here :

1. the timeline and how i see it

2. how blake is probably hush's brother

3. what the fuck is hush

1. the timeline (specifically when the fuck hush's audios are set)

we know that when avior and starlight get back to the overworld, + when elliott escapes, the inversion just happened . with that, i think i've found a few things that can set the events in the timeline

- in "deferred judgement" and "reforming a sadism demon", hush says that closeknit's headquarters in dahlia are empty, and that the dept. "came and scared them away" or raided the building.

i assume that what happened in the newest balance audio was also a raid (blake saying the department cut the power in the building) and iirc we're still in dahlia, so this is the same building that hush says is abandoned in his recent audios.

- in "reforming a sadism demon", hush mentions he's only been alive/sentient for "a few weeks"

this wouldn't have given me anything, but if we recall in sovereign state, avior keeps hearing the same sound effect that we hear when hush tries to explain what he is to doc.

since the closest given timeline is "facing a disaster with your demon lover" (40 minutes post-inversion), and the audios after that are probably, at most, a few days after (since avior has to explain the inversion to starlight) we can probably assume that hush has been created at this point.

this would have hush's audios + the 2 most recent carpe deus audios be set a few weeks post inversion at the least.

2. blake is probably hush's brother

so we know hush has mentioned having a "brother" twice now ('there's a stranger in your apartment' and 'deferred judgement')

we can assume hush probably means that they're brothers in the sense that they were made the same way? because obviously they wouldn't actually be blood related ("i have a brother, in a manner of speaking")

- both are also instruments/tools used by the sovereigns. hush having referred to himself as an "instrumental force" many times, and blake being called an instrument by d'deridahn ('a deal with the fallen gods').

- both also "teleport" the same way (parentheses because its technically not that?). normae mentions that hush can "be anywhere" but isn't rifting, and hasn't seen anything like it before ('getting to know your mysterious stranger'). d'deridahn also says that blake can "be anywhere". both also have the same sound effect when " teleporting".

we also know that hush and his "brother" not exactly on good terms. hush's "brother" knows that hush is different, and that scares him. this person has been hunting hush down ever since he was given form, but since hush is stronger and faster, he hasn't been caught.

- blake is an empowered human being used as a vessel by a sovereign. and with hush, all we know is that there's an "echo" of the ones who created him that remain in him (e & m possibly), but he's also neither demon nor human, and has killed several demons. because of this, we can probably assume hush is more powerful than blake.

3. what the fuck is hush

hush is called an egregore by vega, and while there are many different definitions of this, i think he leans more on the concept of an independent entity created by collective thought, because he always refers to himself as an instrumental force with a linear goal.

with this, i think hush is some sort of entity created by e'laetum and min'ara's thoughts and goals becoming sentient. i also think he's going to be the entity to strengthen the meridian.

hush is actively trying to contact avior, hence why i think he's connected to e'laetum and min'ara. he could've been created by them, on purpose or not. maybe the meridian sovereigns realized a demon and a human couldn't possibly help on their own, and created hush. or were so hellbent on their goal that they accidentally gave form to hush, since he is "the silence between the notes" and has technically existed before, but was only given form recently.

hush's focus is likely to strengthen the meridian, but in order to do that he needs another sovereign. he specifically refers to freeing sovereigns trapped in their prison ('getting to know your mysterious stranger') and that applies to the drove (d'deridahn and others, excluding e & m) because they were trapped there as punishment. but i doubt the drove would want to help after being trapped for millennia, so what now?

well, in "getting to know your mysterious stranger", normae talks to doc about hush, and tries to tell them that hush is trying to take the sovereigns' powers for himself. it's possible that e'laetum and min'ara are aware that the drove won't want to help them strengthen the meridian, so they might have tasked hush to making contact with the drove to take their powers for himself, and to aid the meridian himself.

all that or hush is just a little guy wanting to fuck shit up on elegy LMAO

[winterpantsu]

Gonna ramble for a minute I love fluffy stuff, I love fluffy Narilamb, but again neither are good people. Like while I may give Narinder and the Lamb a lot of soft moments, that doesn’t take away from the fact that they’re both terrible people, sure Narinder is more overt that he’s not the most pleasant person (understatement of the year) he’s blunt, he can get violent, he’s got a temper, but Lamb is more insidious because the fact is that even with the companionship they have with certain followers, the kindness that they show, their smile, their gentle touch, it’s all a manipulation tactic.

But at the core of it they’re both people who’ve been badly hurt, both have faced betrayal to different degrees, and both have also been the betrayer. But I also love the idea that they can find solace in each other, that despite the fact that they’re both terrible, awful people, they still have each other…

[emile-hides]

Someone on my dash keeps posting really good really aesthetic photos of their inkling at Grand Fest, and I thought it'd be fun to do that too

And then I got really, REALLY distracted.

[complicit-rot]

i haven't been this social & talkative in Years someone drag me out back

[octoooo]

It’s time for me to ramble about my Splatoon characters <3

Gonna be a long post, I can’t stop talking about these squiggly guys

First up is Yuki <3

He’s actually my in-game character and has been since I started playing Splatoon 2 in 2019.

ANYWAY He’s 19, aro/ace and uses he/they pronouns. Proficient with Dualie Squelchers and Heavy Splatling but do Not put a charger in his hands he will let you die (accidentally)

Family was part of the Octarian group forced underground post-Great Turf War. He grew up in Inkopolis Square after escaping. I say his family is “part of” because I’m pretty sure not all of the Octarian race was forced away. Some of them had to have escaped.

Being a pro ink-battler would be cool, he was a pretty decent soldier underground,but back then he battled for survival and recognition. Turf and Ranked made fighting fun. Took the games too seriously at first. He was used to the harsh training underground and knew that either you had what it took or you didn’t. And if he didn’t (aka being discharged from the military) then what else was he to do?

Certainly there were other jobs underground; the food hunters who scavenged the barren lands they lived in, “scientists” and “electricians” who worked in ways to keep their world alive & running despite the circumstances.

(It’s in quotes because,,,,I mean I can’t really say they’re qualified. Their knowledge would be helpful but not equivalent to a scientific or engineering degree up in Inkopolis)

He's a little ashamed to admit that, for quite some time, he harbored hatred for his related species (Inklings). They have everything, took everything from his own people yet still have the nerve to complain and be ungrateful. But he worked through this & doesn’t think like that anymore.

Had a lot of reflecting to do. Often would throw himself into Ranked to forget about it, but that wouldn’t last long. He had to come to terms with the fact that he has nothing on the surface. It’s what his people dreamed of, and he’s not trying to be ungrateful, but it’s not like he had a family, or anywhere to go at first. Technically he had it all in his old underground home; stable income, amicable neighbors, decent reputation due to his military service & status. But up in Inkopolis he has none of that. He lived in the shadows of alleys, no money and no way to get it,

Honestly if Inklings knew of his Octarian military service they would likely only distance more from him.

Speaking of Inklings; they were,,,alright. Some of them couldn’t even tell he was an Octoling from underground until he spoke. Those who could tell showed him nothing but hostility. It doesn’t help much that he didn’t know a lick of modern Inklish.

(The most Inklish he knew was of the old script used 100+ years ago that they teach underground, so he talks like a grandpa)

He spent his early days hiding in alleys watching the locals go about their days. He would always notice the younger Inklings with weapons going to and from the Great Zapfish Tower (we know it’s the battle lobby but that’s what he’d call it) and a weapons shop.

He went to the Battle tower first, but quickly realized you need both a weapon and gear to play (play what though? He had no idea but he’s interested now). After being pointed in the right direction, he was freshly equipped with a splattershot jr, basic gear and ready for turf war.

For a while, he kept losing because he was focused on getting kills, and his teammates did Not like him. It doesn’t help that he can’t understand them either, so when they say to play objective (ink the ground) he doesn’t listen.

It took him some months, a lot of awkward hovering around inkling convos, and a good amount of teammates yelling at him, for him to learn more modern Inklish. When he did, he finally got to read the rules of turf war & gave it another shot. Things got better from there; he earned money for a small apartment, got more weapons, became more social (he still talks like a grandpa most of the time), but he still has that self-reflecting to do.

His first Splatfest was a bit of a disaster? It was Pancakes vs Waffles and he thought there was an absolute correct answer. Making decisions in the military is more cut & dry and each option has consequences so it’s important to pick the right choice. He tried getting people to understand that pancakes were the better choice and that something bad would befall the people who chose waffle (then waffle won and he had to eat his words. He kinda panicked thinking something bad actually would happen)

What drew him to the Splatlands was that people kept asking him if he was from there. The inklings on the surface eventually kinda learn that Octolings live in the Splatlands, but few know that many of them survived underground. When he answers that he’s from the underground they give him a weird look. Eventually he decides to visit the Splatlands and loves it!

It’s an organized mess and there’s a bigger presence of his own culture there compared to Inkopolis Square. It’s a little different but still of the same roots.

-

I also wanna touch on why he’s trans since like,,it wasn’t just a random choice to add spice to his traits. So back when I got Splatoon 2 in early 2019, I played & beat Octo Expansion. I usually used the male character. Something about him just made me go “yaaayayay.” At this point in life, I knew I wasn’t trans but I had recently experimented with chest binding and he/him pronouns, and decided that it wasn’t the right fit for me. Maybe that’s why I used the male model? Maybe not, it’s not important really.

I used that male Octoling kind of as a persona. If I wanted to draw a Splatoon doodle about me and some friends then I would use our in-game characters rather than us irl. Makes sense. But drawing him was kinda,,,odd. I wanted him to be the In-game model but I am a female irl and have a fairly large chest, so I wanted my drawings to reflect that. All I did was slap in a bump for the chest when I drew him, but that was enough for me. And since the character in-game is male, I kept referring to him as such.

Over time (and moving into Splat3) my character became less of me. I drew and imagined him as confident and loud and in all these scenarios I wouldn’t be in. Once I started feeling disconnected from him, I knew something had to change (and I had become more open with online friends, so I had no need to hide behind my character anyway).

I decided to separate entirely(?) from him. While some things that I am (aro/ace) and do (play dualies & heavy splatling) remain as part of him, he is no longer an extension of me. I gave him a backstory, along w/ Redd who I will get into later, and I drew him as the character I wanted him to be rather than who I am.

That was a lot, and I’m not done because now it’s time for:

Redd <3

(I don’t have as many drawings of her </3)

Despite the outfit and outward demeanor, is not outspoken or brave like her cousin. She’s soft spoken & introverted & would probably cry if she were yelled at.

Currently pro-ish ink battler, happened on accident though! She was doing some turf & ranked for fun but in a few matches she ran into her soon to be teammates who wanted to hang w/ her more.

(In my mind there’s like,,pro ink battle leagues. Like how we have NFL, NBA, etc, Sploon world would have professional Ink Battle leagues. The turf/ranked games they play as young squid-kids is similar to playing football or basketball in school. It’s a hobby/interest that could lead you to the big leagues one day. Unless that’s all canon to Splatoon already)

Yuki is like,,,lowkey jealous bc Redd has all this natural skill & doesn’t even want to be a pro battler. Also it’s a little embarrassing and emasculating that he (a well ranked and respected soldier) performs worse than his squishy cousin.

As I said; she’s not even into ink battles. They’re fun and all but doing it long term is not what she has planned. She had a hard time telling her teammates this & struggles to find excuses to skip practice. (Yuki is helping her become more confident & outspoken, but progress is slow).

She’s Interested in making music, and enjoys upbeat jams. She’s inspired by, Deep Cut, ChirpyChips & Squid Squad (“Kraken Up” is her Song)

Her teammates aren’t rude or forceful about their practice, they just don’t know that Redd isn’t all that interested. They'd still be friends & even support her music career.

-

As for her and Yuki’s connected history; Redd was born and raised in the Splatlands. Her family used to live around Inkopolis but when word spread about Octarians fate post-Great Turf War (going underground) they successfully fled to the Splatlands where they’ve been living ever since. They were unsuccessful in bringing the entire family, having to split in order for at least half the family to escape.

It isn’t until Yuki is 19 and visits Splitsville that they meet. I don’t really know how or when or why this next part happens; but they open up to each other & as they talk abt their family they realize that the missing pieces of their own family history is filled in by the other’s story. (Lmao I imagine Yuki talking abt his great grandma like “yea her brother kinda left her for dead.” (he’s bitter about it) & Redd just thinks “hm. Reminds me of my great grandad who felt like he left his sister for dead,,,”

(Specifically Redd’s great grandfather escapes w/ his kids but has to leave his sister behind, who ends up being Yuki’s great grandma. (I think I have these familial titles right?)

Anyway yeehaww Yuki & Redd are distant cousins!

(While their shared backstory serves as a good amount of evidence, they do some further genetic testing to prove it for sure.)

[toothpaste-for-the-skin]

I’ve been planning on doing a post where I just ramble about design choices I’ve made and details that I normally wouldn’t mention bc I love rambling so I did this real quick. Starting off with my sona bc uhhh

Most of the things I wanna brainrot about is the flying squid thing. She’s supposed to be a Japanese/Neon flying squid, and I tried to make a few references to it besides the squid form. Stuff like the brown undersides on her ears are like the brown arms/membranes of the real-world squid! Also the tentacle patterning was originally supposed to reference this too (being a different color than the main ink/body color).

I also made the joke that she still has the flying squid’s fins on her humanoid form, they’re just on her back like wings and completely useless, so she just wears a shirt over them. Her squid form actually can momentarily glide, but the difference it makes is negligible due to losing a lot of the tools required to do so efficiently.

Also the last thing I might mention (for now) is the fact that the two streaks on the top of her "hair" were inspired by Twilight Sparkle MLP. I wish I was joking but I’m not.

I’ll probably do more of these in the future for my other characters, I just really wanted to talk about details that I think are cool but don’t really see the need to bring up without specific circumstances! I just really like talking about my characters so I’ll be happy to answer any questions (unless it’s related to certain aspects of character backstories bc I haven’t fleshed out some things yet).

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

hiii i love ur fics idk if ur requests are on rn but can u do a short drabble of the tiktok trend where the guy hasn't ask his gf to be his valentines day so she "put him on sale" as a joke ofc but she's like

BF FOR SALE ($3.50)

- amazing cook

-crusty feet

- will buy anything u want

any character is fine but i would love katsuki or shoto!!

LMFAOOOO this is for sure the funniest ask ive gotten yet😭😭😭 this is so cute !! and very long overdue I apologize writer block devil was rlly kickin my ass😞 valentines been over but yk i had to write this ! i was rlly hesitating between writing for shoto or katsuki and then i realized i could write for BOTH OF THEM!! and so i did ! i tried honoring your request as best i could, hope you like it <3 !

no pronouns mentioned, pure tooth rotting nasty fluff, use of petnames (my love for shoto and sweets, babe and idiot (lol) for katsuki), katsuki is an asshat but when isn’t he, shy katsuki, shoto is a bit of an airhead, kissing, biting, reader is petty asl lol, lemme know if i missed something else !

todoroki shoto ♥︎

“yn, my love.”

“yes, shoto ?”

the corners of shoto’s mouth pull into a tiny frown at the usage of his first name. no baby, no hun, not even sho. just shoto.

“did i do something to upset you ?” he asks carefully from his spot at the foot of your dorm bed he seems to be stuck at, he can’t bring himself to move until he knows if you’re actually mad at him, and he has an inkling you are.

you look up at him for no longer than a second then look back down at your phone screen “what makes you think that ?” you question back nonchalantly.

“you posted something on your tiktok account..” shoto doesn’t have a clue how to have this conversation with you and it makes him a little nervous, he regrets not going to izuku for advice after all.

“mhmmmm~” you hum, urging him to continue knowing damn well you know what he’s going to say. you wanted to hear him say it himself.

you know shoto’s had no previous relationships before you so these type of things probably don’t mean as much to him as they do to you, but doesn’t everyone want their boyfriends to ask them to be their valentine ? you sure do, and your boyfriend hadn’t asked you to be his yet, so as petty as you know you were being at the time you posted the tiktok he’s no doubt here for right now.

shoto feels like a criminal on trial desperately trying to plead his case with you being the judge. tentatively, he asks “ you said you were..putting me up for sale ?”

immediately it’s like a switch had been flipped. you place your phone down onto your bed next to you, shoto wishes he could take your phone’s place. you cross your leg over the other and bring your hands together like a super villain revealing their master plan “yes. yes i did.”

“oh.”

silence. nothing.

shoto tried—he’s trying. he’s trying so insanely hard to make sense of everything that is you but he simply can’t. he breaks eye contact to think of more to ask but his attention is quickly pulled back to you when he hears you whine.

“uuuuughhh shotoooo~” you moan, throwing your head back against the headboard. “you’re not supposed to say ‘oh’ !” you’re face changes from grumpy to deadpan as you lower your voice slightly to try and mimic him. on any other day this would’ve made him laugh but he’s beyond lost at this point. he clears his throat before speaking again.

“ i don’t know what i’m supposed to say—or what i did for you to want to sell me.” he thinks “and for 3 dollars at that.”

you let out a laugh when you process his words and shoto’s shoulders magically feel lighter at the sound. carefully, he slides a little closer to the side of your bed so he can stand at your bedside. little by little. you pretend you don't notice.

"it's what you deserve for not askin' me to be your valentine."

the secret’s finally out and you get to see how the cog wheels in his head are starting to turn in real time, it has you holding back a giggle when he looks up at you like a deer in headlights.

“is that..why you were mad ?” you nod, humming out a playful mhmm

“ya really hurt my feelings you know ? to think my own boyfriend wouldn’t ask me” you clench your fist over your heart and fake sob dramatically.

shoto huffs out a laugh, relieved to see you’re not actually mad, and goes to sit down on your bed. he tentatively reaches for your hand and squeezes it twice when you let him hold it. before bringing it up to his lips and placing a sweet little kiss to it. it feels as if pop rocks are going off inside of you.

“ i’m sorry for not asking you to be my valentine.” he apologizes, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing your hand “ i was thinking i should’ve, but i didn’t want you to think it was weird since we’re already dating.” his thumb goes to run over your fingers “ i was worried me being too intense would scare you off.” he mumbles.

your eyebrows furrow, you lean towards him to make him look at you “ you wouldn’t scare me off, who told you that ?”

“kaminari. he said ‘coming on too strong scares away the babes.’ ” shoto quotes

you sigh. of course it was that bigmouth portable charger filling his head with this stuff.

you pull your hand out of his grasp and he looks up to protest but you grab his face in your hands before he can say anything, you can practically see him start melting at the contact as he blinks at you slowly, he reminds you of a cat.

“sho” you purr, rubbing his cheeks “ rule number one is never ever listening to kaminari’s dating advice. most of the time it is very wrong.” you explain.

shoto presses his mouth to the palm of your hand “yeah, i’m starting to regret that now.” he speaks into it, you snort. he leans in closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips and you reciprocate, pressing a few more kisses on his lips for good measure “ i’m really sorry for not asking you.” he says in between pecks. you hum in response to him placing even more kisses all around your face. “s’okay. i’m also kinda sorry for putting you up for sale.” you say, running your fingers through his hair while he places kisses on your shoulder.

he lifts his head up to look at you then, an eyebrow raised with an amused expression on his face “kinda sorry ?” he asks.

you nod “mhm. kinda sorry.”

he chuckles to himself, then gets up so he can climb into bed next to you. when he’s positioned how he likes it, with his head in your lap while you comb through his hair with your fingers, he sighs peacefully “well, it wasn’t all bad. i’m glad you think i’m a good cook.”

“what about the crusty feet ?”

“i’m choosing to ignore that part.” shoto smirks lightly to himself when he hears you laugh at his joke, clearly proud of himself for it. “and i will buy you anything you want, to make it up to you.”

“i don’t need you to buy me anything, sho” you roll your eyes with a lovesick smile “ all you gotta do is ask.”

he blinks up at you, looks off the the side as if he’s deep in thought, and suddenly gets off your lap to sit right in front of you. you never think you’ll get over how pretty your boyfriend is and being reminded of it with how close he is to you makes you flustered. he leans in to kiss you passionately and you don’t know if it’s the love he pours into it or the lack of air that has you so dizzy, you don’t dwell on it.

when he pulls away he’s looking at you like you hung up the stars in the sky and he simply, almost shyly smiles at you and asks.

“ will you be my valentine ?”

bakugou katsuki ♥︎

you did not expect katsuki to come barging into your dorm room five minutes after you’d posted your tiktok. the loud sound of someone banging on your door and proceeding to let themselves in seconds later causes you to let out a squeak.

in comes katsuki, phone tightly clutched in his hand and the moment his eyes zeroed on you he’s like a bull charging at a red flag. he stands right in front of you, angry frown on display before he shoves his phone in your face.

“explain this. now.” he growls, you have to hold back a laugh, keeping your face as calm as possible you look between him, his screen then back at your phone.

“what’s confusing about it ? i thought i was being pretty straight forward.”

his eye twitches. “why the hell did you put me up for sale ?! and for three dollars and fifty fuckin’ cents ?!” he exclaims, you can’t help the snort that bursts out of you, though katsuki doesn’t look as amused as you are.

“explain.” he deadpans.

“i think you can figure it out.” you shrug back.

he mutters insults to himself that you can’t catch “well obviously fuckin’ not, cus I wouldn’t be askin’ you if i did.” you simply shrug and look back at your phone. “i wrote it in the caption.”

it takes him a second to process then he’s tapping his password and opening the clock app at super sonic speed. his eyebrows furrow and you see him tapping away at his phone. his eyes widen when he reads your caption and he looks down at you with a mix of desperation and disbelief.

“you’re mad cus I didn’t ask you to be my valentine ?” your bratty huff and turn to the side as you shrug again is all the answer he needs. he looks at you for about 5 seconds longer then sighs.

he sits down on your bed and keeps staring. katsuki bakugou hates a lot of things and one of those things is you ignoring him. a warm hand on your ankle startles you and you can’t even ask him what he’s doing before your being yanked towards him. you squeal, almost missing the smirk on his face or the huff of laughter at your reaction. almost though, so you glare at him. katsuki looms over you until your noses almost touch, then you turn away with a huff. he chuckles, pressing his lips to your neck.

“ yer such a baby, y’know that ?” he mumbles, smirking against you neck. you huff but make no effort to shrug him off “ no i’m not, jerk. is it so wrong for me to want my boyfriend to ask me to be his valentine’s ?” you grumble, trying to ignore the feel of his warm lips against your skin, it’s not working so well for you.

“s’not what i’m sayin, sweets” he nips at your earlobe “‘m sayin’ ya coulda just told me ‘stead of bein’ a baby about it.” you can’t tell if this is his way of trying to apologize. either way, you don’t want to give in just yet.

“i’m not supposed to tell you to ask me to be your valentine’s katsuki, that’s not the point~ !” you huff petulantly. you feel a but childish but, c’mon ! it’s a given to have your boyfriend as your valentine and it wouldn’t hurt your demon spawn of a boyfriend to be a little but romantic once in a while.

he playfully rolls his eyes at you “see, what’d i tell you? big baby.” leaning forward he nips at your nose making you groan and trying to push him away with your palm. katsuki being the powerhouse that he is, doesn’t budge. “ i didn’t think to ask ya cus you’re already mine. so why should i need to ask something that’s a given ?”

your heart beats faster at his words and katsuki takes his chance when he feels you loosing up more and more. suddenly he’s got your wrists in his grip, holding them above you and looking down at you with that sickeningly handsome smirk. you’re almost there, he can practically feel it.

“i—i’m..still mad at you” you stutter out weakly, your defenses are down.

“yeah ?” he taunts.

“yeah. apologize.”

he scoffs, rolling his eyes lightheartedly “why should i apologize ? you said my fuckin’ feet stink.”

“ ah, ah, ah.” you tut “don’t put words in my mouth, i said your feet were crusty.”

“yeah, thanks babe. that makes it so much better.” he sasses, you laugh “and i complimented you ! i said you were an amazing cook !”

“yeah but that ain’t a compliment, ‘ts a fact.” he says matter of factly, you’re eyes threaten to get stuck at the back of your skull with how hard you roll them and he snickers.

he dives in and steals a kiss, and then another one when you don’t stop him. when he pulls away to catch his breath, ready to steal another kiss you stop him by placing your hand on his chest. he looks down at you questioningly and you give him a raised brow in response. he groans.

“fine. m’sorry” he concedes quietly

“foooorrr ?” you urge.

he narrows his eyes at you as if saying “don’t push it” but swallows his words down “ for not askin’ you to be my valentine’s or whatever the fuck” he shoves his now hot face into your neck and mumbles “now quit bein’ all pissed at me.”

you’re happy enough with that, so you wrap your arms around his neck, one of your hands creeping up his nape and into his hair. he sighs contentedly, clearly enjoying the attention you’re giving him.

“thank you. i’m also sorry for saying you have crusty feet.” hearing him scoff at the accusation makes you giggle “and for putting you up for sale.” he hums, happy with your apology.

“..kinda.”

“oi.” he warns. you giggle in response continuing your ministrations in his hair.

“you still haven’t asked me so..” you trail off. he lifts his head up to look at you with a blond eyebrow raised.

“ does this valentine shit really matter that much to you ?” he asks.

you respond immediately “yes.” nodding aggressively to make your point.

he sighs, shaking his head. he looks at you, then looks off to the side in embarrassment, he can be so cute when he wants to be. steeling his nerves he looks you straight in the eyes. fearless with fierce red cheeks and all.

“b-be my valentine, idiot..”

[helen-with-an-a]

On Top (18+)

Hiiiii - sorry for the inactivity/hiatus but I life has been kinda rough for me the last few weeks. Anyways, I had this idea in my head and could not get it out, so I wrote it. An absolutely massive shout out to @vixwritesagain for helping me out - I greatly appreciate it. Forehead smooches for you.

Also, this is the first time I've written anything outright 18+/smutty, so your comments are most definitely welcome. I hope you enjoy it.

Ona Batlle x Reader

Description: Ona wants to try being on top for once

Word Count: 4.3k

TW: Smut; 18+ only

could you tell I couldn't decide on a picture

“I want… Quiero –” she broke off with a sigh as your teeth grazed her jaw.

“You want …” you trailed off mockingly.

“Quiero est–” another pause. You took pity on her, leaning down to kiss her. 

Before you could make contact, Ona spoke again. “Quiero estar en la cima.” You pulled back, meeting her dark eyes.

It wasn’t unexpected – you had an inkling that had been growing for a few weeks. She had been trying to be more … assertive. 

The first few times she demanded something from you, it made you giggle. Even before you started dating, she had been the more submissive. She always allowed you to take the lead, eagerly waiting for your gentle instruction and quiet praise. When things had finally progressed into the bedroom, you weren’t surprised to find her moaning and whining beneath you as you sent her flying again and again, relishing in the sounds that spilled from her.

It had started a few weeks ago, after the pictures from Cuba had made their rounds on the internet. You had seen the comments. You had seen her blush as the notifications went off. You took pride in knowing that despite the internet going crazy over her, only you got to really see her, to feel her, to taste her. 

The first time she had asked for something in a more authoritative tone, you had chuckled, raising an eyebrow at her shocked look - like she couldn’t believe she had just done that. She had asked for something small, so inconsequential that you don’t even remember it. But it was the way she had asked, with a firmness that you only heard from her on the football pitch. Almost instantly, it had faded again – her eyes had widened into a perfect look of innocence and a rosy hue spread across her cheeks. You had just pressed a few kisses where the colour had appeared until you felt her smile against you and went to do what she asked.

The next time and the next and the next, it was very obvious she was trying to become more assertive, more brazen with her authority. Each time, you had done exactly as she asked. A kiss, some food, a massage, company in the shower. All things you were more than willing to give her. But it was the tone. And the way she quickly changed her mind as soon as it left her lips. 

What really cemented the idea that Ona was trying to be more dominant was when she squeaked a muffled ‘buena niña’ after you fulfilled her request to help her dry her hair after a long shower. You’d smirked and kissed the top of her head before moving into the bathroom yourself.

You had also sensed it when you were pressing her against the door of your bedroom, your tongues moving in harmony as your hand squeezed her waist – she had gently pushed you before changing her mind as quickly as the thought had appeared and pulling you back in with even more eagerness. 

You could tell she was trying to get the upper hand when you lay her down gently on the mattress and began kissing your way down her body. She grabbed at your jaw, halting your descent and pulling you back up, her finger tracing your lower lip before whispering a gentle ‘bésame’ before pushing her lips to yours. Of course, you had obliged, who were you to deny her? Each time you had let her take the lead, thinking that she wasn’t quite sure how to ask for it. But when you had begun to roll over, she had seemed so unsure. Big, brown eyes staring up at you as you tried to figure out what she wanted. 

You were surprised that she’d actually asked to be on top, to be in control.

She whined up at you, her lips brushing against your own as you pressed her further into the mattress. “Is that so?” You teased, granting her a slow, languid kiss. You could tell she was fighting for dominance again, so you let her control it – Ona pulled you closer and set the pace. 

You chuckled at her surprised hum. “Hmmm, I don’t know, Onita.” you mused as you broke away.

“Si us plau,” she whined, sounding utterly pathetic. It was music to your ears.

“You want to eat me out?” You whispered, letting your teeth graze her earlobe. She nodded, breathlessly sighing as you sucked a light hickey into her neck. “You want me writhing and moaning underneath you? Screaming your name? So the whole world can hear who makes me feel so good?” 

“Sí, sí, sí,” she moaned.

“You want to pin me to the mattress?” You asked, effortlessly pulling her hands above her head and pressing your hips into hers to hold her down. She nodded, eyes wide and pupils dilated. “Have me at your mercy?” 

Ona writhed against you, your words conjuring up wicked images in her mind. 

“You want to have me in any position you want?” Your lips drifted further, latching onto her exposed collarbone. She let out a loud whine, her hips searching for some friction against you. You allowed it, slowly letting her grind against your thigh. She nodded, her breath coming out harshly

“You want to control how and when I cum for you?” You paused, taking the time to nip at her chest, right above her heart. “You want me to be your good girl?” She let out a loud wanton moan, her back arching off the mattress.

“Sí, sí, sí, a tot plegat,” 

You had a little knowledge of Catalan. You were fairly sure you had just described most, if not all, of her fantasies. You hummed, pretending to mull it over in your mind. You sucked another mark to her neck, smiling as her hands threaded through your hair.

You pulled back abruptly. “Ok,” you said, staring into her coffee-coloured eyes. She blinked, clearly shocked by your answer. She hadn’t been expecting this. And now that it was here, she was unsure if it was really what she wanted. 

You could see her hesitation. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. Or if you’ve changed your mind.” You ran your hands soothingly up her torso, placing a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth. She sighed softly, bringing her arms around your neck and keeping you close to her.

“No, no, I … I want to … I really want to,” she whispered, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. “I’ve never done anything like this before,” she confessed. 

You grinned. “Think about what I normally do. I have an idea, I ask you. You say yes or no. Just think about what you want to do and ask me. We can start slow. Really slow. I’m not used to being on the bottom either,” you reminded her. “We can use our colours at any point, remember?” 

You smiled as she relaxed, her head pressing back into the pillows. “I can guide you, just like you did for me our first time together.” You said as you let your fingers drift across her abdomen. 

Ona moaned quietly. Her fingers tightened in your hair.

“What do you want, baby? Me on my back? You on top? Your mouth, your fingers, your cock?” You whispered.

She was clearly turned on; her chest was heaving and her cheeks an even brighter pink than before.

“Vine aquí,” she commanded. You smiled, following her demand. She pulled you into her, her soft, smooth lips dancing with yours. You reminded yourself to let her lead, but it didn’t stop you from letting your hands wander.

You had already taken off her shirt, relishing in the smooth expanse of skin. You felt her push gently on your shoulders, trying to make you roll onto your back. You couldn’t help but smile as you flopped over and pulled her with you.

You settled down, head against the pillow, arms at your side as Ona straddled you. 

“Esta bien?” she asked. You nodded, smiling reassuringly at her.

“Do your worst, Oni,” you teased gently. You could see her eyes narrowing at your challenge. You smiled up at her as she began to think. Her tongue darted across her lips subconsciously, her fingers fiddling with the waistband of your shorts. God, she was a vision. You waited patiently, letting her decide what her next course of action was. 

“Quiero comerte afuera,” she whispered eventually. It wasn’t unusual for Ona to go down on you, but you had a suspicion that tonight would be different. Usually, you were in control, using your hands to guide her to where you wanted. She glanced down at your body, her eyes flitting across your torso and shoulders, but never once making eye contact. You could see she was still nervous. More nervous that you had ever seen her in the bedroom.

“Oni, look at me,” you said definitively, breaking away from the submission you were forcing yourself to embrace. Her eyes snapped to yours in a way that told you tonight would probably need a little more input from you than she had originally planned. “Soy solo yo,” You reminded her, taking a hand in yours.

“It’s just you,” she reiterated.

“Breathe, Bubba.” 

She nodded, taking some deep breaths as your free hand rubbed soothing circles into her thigh. She squeezed your hand tightly.

“I want to eat you out,” She said with more authority this time. You nodded, your hips squirming in hopes of getting any form of friction to ease the growing ache. You succeeded slightly, the shift of your hips causing the fabric of your underwear and shorts to move deliciously against your skin. 

“Stop,” she ordered. With immense effort, you did as you were told, your heart jumping at the bright grin she let out. You held your breath as she leant down. “I liked that,” she murmured. 

You huffed out your displeasure.

“I didn’t,” You scowled, the look less effective as your voice cracked slightly when her fingers palmed at your chest, squeezing gently over your shirt.

“Be good and I’ll reward you.” It was a sentence you had said hundreds, if not thousands of times to her. You wanted to growl at her, abandon this whole plan, flip her over and have your way with her. But you didn’t. You let out a soft huff but nodded all the same. “Mi buena niña,” she praised, licking at the skin on the valley of your breasts.

“Oni,” You panted as her fingers danced under the waistband of your shorts.

“Can I take these off?” She asked. You nodded. “Words, por favor, mi vida,” she chided gently – just like you always did. She shuffled backwards, manoeuvring herself off you to lie flat on the bed.

You lifted your head, glancing at her place between your thighs. She was such a sight. Her eyes were wide and doe-like. You could tell she was unsure of what she just did. You lifted your hand, your fingers lightly grazing her cheekbone, smirking at her hesitance and nodding encouragingly.

“Yes, Bubba. You can take them off” You paused for a moment, allowing her time to press a small kiss to your fingertips. You decided to follow the same rules you expected of her – sensing that familiarity might be a source of comfort to her.

Her fingers dug into your flesh as she drew your shorts and underwear away. The cool air made you twitch as the wetness on your thighs was revealed.

“Estas mojada,” She commented.

“All for you, my love,” You sighed back as she settled back down.

She looked up at you again with that nervousness, like she was questioning if she was really going to do this. 

“Colour?” you asked with the dominant tone again, knowing that she wouldn’t ignore it, and you expected an honest answer.

“Yellow.” You sat up and reached for her. 

She sighed but moved to sit next to you while intertwining your legs. You brought her closer still by wrapping an arm around her waist, pushing her hair off her forehead.

“Bubba, do you want to stop?” You asked her. She shook her head, not looking at you.

“No,” she answered. You took her face gently in your hand and pulled her focus to meet your own. 

“Do you want me to take control again?” 

She shook her head again.

“I’m just … nerviosa. I’ve never been … en cargo … before. But I want to at least try it.” 

You nodded, understanding where she was coming from. Dominance had come naturally for you, but it was still nerve-wracking the first time you were with a new partner or trying something for the first time. 

“I keep … thinking … about things.” She whispered into your ear.

“What things, my love?” You hummed, gently smoothing her hair and trying to keep the mood light.

“You … on your back.” She paused, her breath quickening as images flooded her mind. “I’m … kissing you. And then you ask me to …” She stopped again. She was creating a fabulous picture for you. “You ask me to finger you … or eat you out. Cambia cada vez que lo imagino.” 

You took a shuddering breath. You think the last part was meant mainly for her, but she had imagined this multiple times? She was going to be the death of you, and you were going to die a happy, happy woman. 

“You tell me that you’re about to cum, and then I stop completely. You get all huffy and pouty,” She broke off with a grin. “But then I make you cum … twice,” she whispered the last part like it was a secret only you get to know. “And then you tell me I’m your good girl, and you tell me how proud you are and that I’ll get many, many rewards for doing exactly what you asked.” You stopped; this wasn’t what you had imagined when she asked to take control earlier. You thought she wanted to be in complete control like you normally do with her. But what she was describing made it sound like she still wanted you to be in charge, telling her what to do and how, but with your body being the main focus, not hers.

“I’m confused, Oni. I thought … I thought you wanted to be in control?”

“I …” she stopped, clearly trying to think of how to articulate her thoughts. “Every time I picture us, I want you to be telling me what to do whilst I’m on top,” she continued. “I like the idea of touching you and making you feel so good. But I want you to tell me what to do … I don’t really know,” she trailed off.

With each confessional sentence, you got a clearer picture of what she wanted. She wanted to be on top, but not necessarily in charge. You could work with that.

“First off, you always make me feel so good,” you clarified. “But I think I understand now. Thank you for telling me.”

You hummed, drawing her to you, settling yourself back against the pillows. She shifted too, straddling one of your thighs. 

You brought her lips to yours, kissing her softly. She let out a throaty hum as you slipped back into the normal dynamic. 

You weren’t quite sure how long you made out – it could have been minutes or hours – but you sensed that this was something you both needed. The familiarity of it all was grounding for both of you as you started to navigate uncharted waters. You felt yourself getting wetter with every passing beat, and based on the subtle grind of her hips, so was she.

Pulling back, you took in Ona’s dazed expression. Her lips were kiss swollen and full, her eyes were glazed, and her hair tousled.

“Oni,” You gasped out, arousal evident in your voice, “Tocame. Your fingers, por favor.”  Gone was the dominant voice you usually used. This was filled with lust, and want, and love. You could see the excitement dancing across her face. She began to move away somewhat reluctantly. You didn’t want her going anywhere, either. 

“Stay?” You almost begged. “Stay close to me.” 

She nodded, grateful that you wanted her near too. As much as she loved to go down on you, she wanted to have you physically close, and she could do that a lot easier with just her fingers.

You felt electrified as her fingers drifted along your shirt. You looked down, smiling at the differences in your attires. She was still in her bra – a lacy wisp of dark blue satin that told you she had probably planned for this – but her Barça issue shorts were still on. If you had to guess, she was wearing the matching knickers that hugged her in all the right places. In contrast, you were naked from the waist down, the unflattering granny knickers you used for training discarded at the edge of the bed. Your top half was still covered by last season's training shirt. 

You gasped as she finally touched you where you wanted, using her legs to keep you open for her. You knew she had caught on that you were willing to fulfil her fantasy. You knew what that meant. Edging. 

You had only been on the receiving end of that particular form of torture once, and you didn’t really use it on Ona either, preferring overstimulation rather than denial. 

The prospect wasn’t entirely unwelcome, however. A small part of you, one that was growing with every movement of Ona’s fingers, was getting more and more excited for what was to come. You felt your heart quicken as she added more pressure. You gasped as her fingers moved expertly, alternating between rubbing a few quick circles to your clit and dipping just inside, teasing you with the promise of more.

She smirked, watching with a raptured expression as you pressed your head back into the pillow when she finally sunk one finger fully inside. You moaned as you felt the heel of her hand brush against your clit. 

“More,” you gasped after a minute or two, needing another finger. She obliged, kissing your cheek and moving some escaped hair with her free hand. 

“Ona,” You panted, leaning your head against hers as you felt your toes curl as the waves of impending pleasure start. You felt her fingers brush that spongy spot inside of you. Your hand flew to her wrist, hoping to keep her exactly where she was. After a few more moments and another couple of brushes of your clit, you knew you were close.

“Bubba, … I’m – I’m gonna …” You moaned loudly, warning her of your imminent orgasm.

You could imagine her smile, her position offering a great view of your body. Just as you were about to fly over the edge, her fingers stilled, and she was gently tugging out of your grip. 

“No! God, Ona –” You whined, trying to stay still for her as the pleasure started to ebb away. “You’re so mean,” you chided. “I was so close.”

“I know, mi vida,” she laughed teasingly, leaning down to kiss the pout forming on your lips. 

You hummed, lifting your hand to hold her in place as you licked into her mouth. A spark triggered in your mind, thinking back to what she had confessed. You let her go, moving away but keeping her close, so close you could feel her breath fan across your face.

“Oni, I want you to make me cum,” You ordered. She nodded, drifting her fingers further up your leg.  “Good girl,” You added, grinning as she rubbed her legs together at the praise.

Her fingers dipped back in, her slender digits quickly finding all the right places. Maybe it was because you were already so close to your high, or maybe you were just incredibly turned on by the whole situation, but you felt the band in your belly tighten a lot quicker than usual. Soon, you were a gasping, moaning, whining mess as you pressed yourself further into Ona.

“Gonna – gonna cum,” You managed to squeak, your eyes making contact with Ona’s. She smiled, nodding at you as you finally tipped over the edge. Your eyes slammed shut in ecstasy. You were fairly sure you screamed. What made it all a thousand times hotter was the feeling of Ona’s eyes never leaving your face as she worked you through it. Ona felt her heart swell with pride that she had managed to make you feel that good, and the undercurrent of comfort she felt knowing that she was being good for you. 

You barely had time to catch your breath before she was leaning in for another kiss. You knew in her fantasy there were two orgasms, but could you really manage another? 

You were conscious that she had never done the dominant role when it came to aftercare. You also didn’t doubt she would need some love and reassurance from you, too, but you were fairly sure you could navigate that later.

“Again,” you whispered against her lips. She paused, moving back.

“That one was intense, mi vida. Are you sure? What’s your colour?” You took some time to consider the state of your body – yes, you were tired, but no more than usual when it came to sex. You wanted to make every single part of Ona’s dreams come true.

“I’m green, Bubba.” You answered her truthfully. “Be a good girl and make me come again.” 

She groaned softly, a surge of security and want flooding over her. She reached over once again, kissing you deeply as she trailed her nails along your inner thigh.

You squealed as she circled your clit, sensitive yet craving more as you pressed yourself into her. You kept your eyes shut as you felt the pleasure begin to rise again, turning your head into Ona’s shoulder as you moaned loudly.

“Tan bonita,” She muttered, biting her lip and drinking in the sight of you writhing beneath her. This was a million times better than she had pictured. 

You blushed at her praise.

“La meva nena bona.” It was one of the few Catalan phrases you knew like the back of your hand. You were surprised you were able to get the full sentence out with how good Ona was making you feel. Her fingers moved expertly, pressing against the spots inside of you. You felt your skin begin to tingle, electricity coursing through your veins with every passing stroke and brush of your clit. It didn’t take long to feel the familiar bubble build. You felt your hips grind down of their own accord, seeking as much pleasure as possible.

“Close.” You nodded, focussing purely on the tightening band and the way your body was coming alive with every stroke. Your back arched off the bed a little, your head thrown back in pleasure as you went soaring.

She worked you through it again, her fingers skilfully drawing every bit of pleasure they could before slowing. 

You both took a few moments to catch your breath. You focussed on grounding yourself, letting each cell in your body feel Ona’s warmth, the blanket beneath you, the chill of the room. 

Ona was fairly sure she almost came herself. That was the hottest thing she had witnessed. The push and pull of being on top but not in charge, the way you moved and moaned, the way you had satisfied her fantasy so completely. She didn’t think anything could best it.  

“That was …” She trailed off with a laugh.

“Lo se,” You giggled, your heart filling with warmth as she joined in. “You were so good for me, Bubba.” She preened at the compliment. 

“So, so good. For telling me what you wanted. For letting me be a part of it. For giving me two absolutely mind-blowing orgasms. For checking in on me.” With each comment, she blushed even deeper. She was fairly sure her underwear was ruined, and probably her shorts, too. Her skin felt on fire as you carefully dragged a solitary finger up her body.

“Tomorrow, I’ll give you whatever you want,” You vowed, smoothing your thumb across her cheek.

“Wh-tomorrow?” She squeaked. She had been hoping for her reward now. Not that she had done all of this just for a reward, but … she had hoped.

“Sí, Bubba. Tomorrow.” Before she could interject with her objections, you continued, “We are both tired. I don’t think I’m in the headspace to make sure you’re ok. I wouldn’t feel comfortable with it. And I don’t think you would be either.” She frowned, moving to complain again. 

“I know that was probably incredibly sexy for you, and trust me, it was for me too. You probably feel absolutely fine, better than fine. But it was a lot. For both of us.” 

Ona listened, taking stock of her body. She did feel boneless in a way she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Maybe you were right. 

“What’s your colour?” You asked her.

“Ver-” she began, but she knew you knew she would be lying. “A-amarilla.” 

You nodded solemnly, thanking her gently for being truthful with you. 

“Tomorrow, or maybe the next day. Whenever we both decide we are ready, I promise to give you the best reward. You were my best girl today. You always have been, and you always will be,” You said earnestly. 

She was always perplexed at how you were always able to say exactly what she needed to hear. 

“Now then, I think a bath is in order, sí?”

“With candles? And the nice bubble bar thingy?” She grumbled.

“Whatever you want, Bubba. My good girl gets whatever she wants.”

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3

[6esiree]

A Jealousy-Fueled Makeup Session

Imagine Alastor and Lucifer leave you after you jokingly break up with them, but they immediately regret it when they watch somebody else get close to you?

Notes: Not proofread, I think I have brain fog </3

Alastor:

Alastor watched Husk console you from the shadows, his eye twitching and his sharp nose crinkling in displeasure as a clawed-hand delicately swept down your spine, your back arching at the sensation and consequently bringing your sides flush together. The scene that unfolded before him was too intimate for his liking, the relieved sighs the bartender was unrighteously eliciting from you driving him mad.

But how could Alastor intervene when he had been the one to initiate your separation, ignoring the desperate, apologetic pleas that seeped past your quivering lips that fateful night you broke up with him in jest? It was only natural you yearned for comfort in his absence, even though you’d found it in somebody that made his stomach churn with jealousy and an inkling of betrayal, the grip on his cane unfathomably tight.

“S’alright, babydoll, I’m here for ya,” Husk’s low, baritone voice alleviated the pain in your aching heart, his cold nose gently bumping against your temple. “Don’t ya stain that pretty little face with ya tears no more, alright?”

Alastor’s claws irritably flexed at that, eager to summon the invisible chain Husk was tethered to under his contract; however, that wasn’t a side of him he liked to display in your presence.

But oh, was he asking for it, especially as he spared him a knowing glance over his fuzzy shoulder, pursing his lips and placing a tender kiss on your tear-stained cheek. Your body stiffened, instilling some hope in him—until you relaxed once more.

“Husker, may I have a word with you?” Alastor’s static-like voice suddenly penetrated the parlor, the crackling and the popping assaulting your ears, but it wasn’t until he said “Now,” in a demanding tone that you pulled away from Husk.

You watched him get up from the couch, staring at him in a way that would hopefully communicate how apologetic you were for seemingly getting him into trouble, but all he did was wink at you. Your brows scrunched together, confused, your eyes following his receding form. You only made sense of his response when you manifested on Alastor’s bed not even a few seconds after their short-lived conversation ended.

“Out of all the residents in this God forsaken hotel,” Alastor hissed against your cheek, forcing half of your face into the pillow, your wrists held hostage above your head as he menacingly loomed over you. “Why did you choose Husker?”

“What? I didn’t choose anybody,” You whimpered, your eyes clenched shut as two of his fingers pumped vigorously into your cunt, his thumb circulating your swollen clit. “He was just trying to make me feel better.”

Your words hardly repelled the jealousy in Alastor’s gut, however, the memory of Husk’s filthy lips kissing you still fresh in his mind. At least the breathless moan that graced his ears reminded him that only he could have you like this, his cock painfully straining in his slacks, eager to replace the fingers hitting up into that spot within your warm, wet gummy walls that had you writhing and squirming underneath him.

“And what about the kiss?” Alastor asked you as he picked up the pace, the sound of his knuckles wetly smacking against your cunt enveloping the room. “I didn’t know he was going to do that!” You said, “But you didn’t pull away,” he bit back.

Alastor’s eyes narrowed and the corners of his mouth twitched downwards when you didn’t have a response for that. He pulled his hand out of you, a trail of your slick draping down his fingers and staining his slacks as they worked away at his belt, the sound of it hitting the carpet snapping you out of your shock. ‘I’m sorry, I just felt so lonely,’ You eventually admitted, but there was nothing you could say at this point to comfort Alastor.

He suddenly snapped his hips forwards, a loud cry escaping your throat as your hole pulsated around his thick cock, desperately trying to accommodate him. He sighed against your cheek, the hand that had been pleasuring you only a few moments ago holding onto one of your legs, spreading your cunt apart. It was then that you finally turned your head to look at him, your lips brushing against his in the process.

In Alastor’s jealous-addled mind, you deserved the painful intrusion. But as he finally took in the full extent of the prominent rings encircling your usually lively eyes, your clumped lashes, and your tear-stained cheeks, he realized that he couldn’t punish you for accepting Husk’s gesture. Evidently, you had spent much of your time lamenting over him, only seeking out comfort when your loneliness drove you to do so.

“Oh, my darling,” Alastor’s lips glided against yours as he spoke, the hand once holding your wrists hostage now tenderly cradling your jaw. While you were confused over the sudden shift in behavior, you didn’t dare question him.

You missed him, and you made that clear through your actions, carding your fingers into his hair despite your aching wrists to bring him in for a slow, passionate kiss. And oh, would Alastor be lying if he said he hadn’t missed you too, his pelvis rubbing against your clit as he leaned in to indulge you. A pleasured gasp seeped into his mouth, his cock instinctively throbbing inside of your cunt, making you jut your hips forward.

“I’m so sorry, Al, truly. I love you and I never meant to hurt you,” You said after you pulled away from him, your eyes nervously darting across his face. “You don’t need to forgive me, I just wanted to let you know that—“ But he interrupted you.

“Enough,” Alastor demanded, pulling out of you as he leaned back, hastily removing his clothes, yours soon following afterwards. “We can speak of that later—this moment is reserved for us and us only, understood?”

Your breath hitched as Alastor pushed you towards the center of the bed, his clawed-hands pushing your legs back until they were on either side of your head in a mating press, his exposed chest heaving at the way your hole excitedly fluttered. ‘I love you too,’ He murmured—and with no static behind his voice. You clutched onto his back, kissing at his neck while the head of his weeping cock leisurely parted your folds.

It wasn’t often that the two of you had sex, so when you did, you made sure to enjoy every second of it. But his hard, even-paced thrusts and the barely audible huffs and puffs that tumbled past his lips as you unashamedly moaned into his ear about how good he was making you feel was just different. You raked your nails down his back, eliciting a proper groan from him, but he quickly muffled it by dipping his head into your shoulder.

“No, no, don’t do that,” You whined in a mixture of disappointment and pleasure, your words almost drowned out by the sound of skin on skin. “Do what, hm?” Alastor shakily asked, feigning innocence. “I want to hear you too, Al.”

Alastor chuckled before revealing to you that you had the rest of the night to procure all sorts of lovely noises out of him, his mouth latching onto your shoulder, sucking a generous bruise that would surely be present for days. You grabbed his hands and placed them over your breasts, his thumbs pressing against your hardened buds as you locked your legs around his gyrating hips. ‘Eager, aren’t we?’ He teased you.

You reached up and tugged Alastor’s ears back, his eyes widening and his mouth falling open with a bleat, burying himself to the hilt as his cock spasmed inside of you. You arched up into him at the feeling of his thick, hot cum painting your walls; and to make matters worse, you rubbed your clit underneath him, quickly bringing yourself over the edge so he could feel your cunt clenching around him, overwhelming him.

What a dirty move you had pulled—but Alastor flipped you onto your stomach, entering your cunt once more. He was set on fucking you till you couldn’t form a single coherent sentence and his cum was trickling down your thighs in a heaping, squelching mess. Why? Because he was secretly broadcasting your lovemaking on Husk’s radio in revenge, his shadow making sure he didn’t touch himself as he restlessly tossed and turned in bed.

Lucifer:

Lucifer never anticipated that a separation would result in Alastor befriending you, regret immediately sinking into the depths of his stomach as his wretched, clawed-hand slowly familiarized itself with you in the span of two weeks. He always seemed to be touching your shoulder, the small of your back, but mostly your face, his knuckles kissing your cheekbone whenever he happened to walk into the room.

But what right did Lucifer have to intervene when he had left you? None—or at least that’s what he tried to remind himself as he stole longing glances at you from the bar, the glass in his hand threatening to shatter with Alastor gallantly twirling you around, the elated gasps he elicited from you almost drowning out the soft jazz music playing in the background. All of this had to be purposeful, the timing too convenient.

“Oh, isn’t this just fun, my dear?” Alastor asked, pulling you into his arms, your back flush against his chest. You stared up at him through your lashes, offering him a shy nod. “I told you! You younger folks are, hm, what is the term again?”

You let out a laugh that had Lucifer’s heart aching. He used to make you laugh like that, he bitterly recalled, taking a generous gulp of his whiskey.

But as you answered Alastor’s question, he rolled his eyes. ‘Lame?’ It was such a common term, and yet the old-fashioned bastard refused to utilize it for whatever reason. Lucifer cringed at the way he repeated it.

“Ha! Yes, lame indeed,” Your breath audibly hitched as he grabbed your jaw to meet his face, his breath caressing your lips. “Well, except for you, of course,” He hummed, his smile too genuine for Lucifer’s liking, “You’re quite alright.”

Lucifer quickly downed whatever was left of his drink without even grimacing once, sliding the empty glass towards Husk before addressing the creases in his hat and his coat. He couldn’t stand seeing you in Alastor’s arms for a second longer, the suggestion that tumbled past his lips to head out to Mimzy’s club encouraging him to ask you to dance—well, that and the alcohol churning in his bloodstream, of course.

“Oh, hello there! Uhh, you two seem to be having a lot of fun,” Lucifer snapped his fingers, the friendliness in his voice forced as Alastor glanced down at him from over his shoulder. “I’d love to join in. Perhaps I could have this next dance?”

“It’s hilarious that you think I’d want to dance with the likes of you, ha-ha!” Alastor tossed his head back, well aware that he was referring to you, but he couldn’t help but poke at him. “I meant the lovely lady here,” Lucifer deadpanned.

The tension hung heavily in the air as Alastor effortlessly turned you around to face Lucifer, his clawed-hands gripping onto your waist in a possessive manner. ‘Tell me, dear, do you want to dance with this buffoon?’ He leaned down, his lips moving against your temple as he spoke, the sensation naturally sending a shiver down your spine. Lucifer narrowed his eyes at that, silently seething at the effect he was having on you.

Your fingers anxiously twitched towards Lucifer’s direction, your body yearning to touch him. But with Alastor practically breathing down your neck, you couldn’t help but hesitate. The two of them didn’t like each other—that was a known fact—however, you only opened yourself up to the man holding you because he had been the first one to offer you some sort of comfort, alleviating your loneliness with his charming nature.

“I think I’m going to call it a night,” You eventually said, pulling away from Alastor. He shot Lucifer a displeased look before nodding, ‘Very well, then,’ grabbing your hand and bidding you a goodnight, his lips tenderly pressing against your knuckles.

Your face flushed, flattered by the gesture; but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that Lucifer had to see that. You hardly spared him a glance as you promptly turned on your heel, leaving him feeling hurt and somewhat betrayed. Still, that didn’t stop him from following after you with a silent precision, only becoming aware of his presence when his shoe stopped your door from shutting closed.

“Lucifer? What are you—?” You tried to ask, but he slammed the door behind him with his tail, tackling you with a searing kiss. “I’m sorry,” He shakily spoke against your lips, his hands hastily undoing your pants.

“About leaving you—about coming back to you because I couldn’t handle seeing that asshole touch you,” Lucifer continued, eliciting a gasp from you as he suddenly pushed you back into your dresser. “I’m so fucking sorry, honey.”

Within a matter of seconds, your pants and your underwear were pooled around your ankles, the cool air causing goosebumps to litter your flesh. You braced yourself on the dresser, your nails threatening to splinter the wood as Lucifer shoved his face into your cunt, his forked tongue parting your folds. A part of you wanted to be upset at him for barging into your room, taking you like you belonged to him, but oh, had you missed him.

While Alastor distracted you from your sorrow, comforting you with his gentle caresses and his kind words—that’s all he had been to you, a meager distraction. Every night you cried yourself to sleep, hoping, praying even, that Lucifer would spare you a simple glance. And now he had his arms wrapped around your legs, moan after moan tumbling from your lips as his tongue relentlessly kissed, flicked, and sucked at your swollen clit.

“Fuck, Luci, I’m the one who should be sorry,” You said, burying a hand into his soft hair and affectionately scratching at his scalp. He shook his head as he focused on your clit, the action making your thighs tremble. “Yes!”

Lucifer couldn’t tell whether your ‘Yes’ was directed at him or simply a product of his ministrations; either way, he refused to let up on you. He dropped one of yours legs, using his free hand to collect your slick. Your gummy walls welcomed his fingers with a warm, wet, tight embrace despite the two weeks you had spent apart, his cock stirring in his pants. But he had to focus on you first.

The pads of his fingers curiously felt around your walls, the spongey spot inside of you that usually had you crying out in ecstasy in the forefront of his mind. ‘Oh, fuck!’ You cried out, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. ‘Right there—yes!’ He had found it. Lucifer stared up into your heavy-lidded gaze, the sight of your furrowed brows and your flushed cheeks spurring on his passionate assault on your fluttering cunt.

“Oh, thank you,” Lucifer groaned when you finally came, immediately replacing his fingers with his forked tongue, your thighs clenching around his head at the feeling of him lapping at your walls. “Thank you so fucking much, honey.”

You pulled him back by his hair when you began to feel overstimulated, a blush creeping up your neck as you observed the dazed look on his face, his chin glistening and his cock painfully straining against his pants. He looked absolutely fuckable like that, sinking down onto your knees to join him on the ground. A strangled groan escaped his throat as you pushed him back onto the carpet, capturing his slick-stained lips.

You straddled his hips, your fingers fixing to undo his pants, but he quickly snapped his fingers and had you pinned underneath him on the bed, nude. It was a surprise, but a welcome one nonetheless, clutching onto his back as he parted your legs and leisurely pushed past your folds with his weeping cock. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of him buried deep inside of your cunt, his pelvis soothingly rubbing against your swollen clit.

Lucifer’s mouth latched onto your skin as he pulled out entirely, slamming his cock back into your hole, a loud whine gracing his ears. He etched your shoulders, your throat, and your jaw with his teeth—every part that would grant him a scolding. It was an attempt to ward off Alastor, but he would find out the next morning that that would do nothing to deter his efforts, his wretched lips kissing at your supposed injuries.

Taglist:

@cosmiiwrites @pumppkinlynn @spookieroz @gxstiess @polyo-nym-y @vvzhyxx @shinynewboots @freakyfrye @leonotlara @angelicribbons @megumibbg

[ryukatters]

a/n: Inspired by that one scene from the apothecary diaries of jinshi interrogating maomao lamaksomsosk (kaiji tang you will always be famous) but with a diff twist

pairing: satoru gojo x gn! reader

content: jealous! Gojo, Gojo really likes reader but reader is kind of dense, reader is a grade one sorcerer younger than Gojo

You give Yaga a quick yet thorough debrief of your mission. You made Nanami go home, insisting that you’d handle all the technical work, since he went out of his way to save your ass when you called him for backup. Your mission had taken an awry turn from a simple investigation of some odd activity near a detention center to having to fight off not one, but two special grade curses.

Sometimes missions don’t go the way you expect them to. That’s normal. Checking in with Yaga after coming back from said missions is also customary. What isn’t normal though, is the way Satoru Gojo is standing behind you grumbling under his breath with each sentence you speak. You can practically feel the menacing aura emanating from his very being. It seeps into your bones and you have to suppress a shiver.

There’s not much you can do. The Jujutsu world’s strongest sorcerer can do whatever he wants. And if he wants to breathe fire down the neck of his poor junior? Then so be it.

“That’s all for my report, sir.”

You bow to Yaga before turning around to get the hell out of the office, far away from him. You give Gojo a slight nod of acknowledgment with the full intention to skitter out of there, but you’re stopped by a large hand gripping your shoulder firmly.

Satoru leans down to whisper into your ear, “I’ll be waiting for you in my office.”

You can’t suppress the way you shudder at his touch and the low timbres of his voice.

And with that, Satoru whips around with a slight ‘hmph’ before sauntering down the hall.

You hear Yaga sigh behind you as you shut the door. You take your time walking, dragging your feet as the ball of anticipation in the pits of your stomach sinks deeper and deeper. You take a deep breath as you grip the door handle leading to Gojo’s office.

Gojo’s sitting down when you enter. Even with his blindfold on, you can tell that his expression looks miffed. His body language too— impatiently drumming his fingers against his thigh. His uncharacteristic silence seeps into every nook and cranny, filling you with an even deeper sense of dread.

Was he upset with you? You hope you’re overthinking things.

“You asked to see me?” You start.

“So…your mission. Heard you had to fight two special grade curses.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. Which gives you the inkling feeling that Gojo isn’t all that interested in actually speaking about your latest assignment.

“I did.”

(You want to remind him that he was in the room when you told Yaga, but you bite your tongue.)

“I see,” he hums noncommittally.

“…And?” You can feel the way his six eyes sear into you even with that stupid blindfold on. You wish he’d just cut to the chase already.

“And when you needed back up, you decided to call Nanami?”

“Yes,” you say with a slight hint of hesitation. You’re not entirely sure what he was trying to get at here. “He was the first sorcerer I saw on my recent calls.”

“Funny how I called you this morning yet you didn’t think about seeking me out for help,” Gojo pouts, idly playing with some empty candy wrappers that were on his coffee table. “Or do you just prefer Nanami over me?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to say,” you respond honestly. Because you don’t. Why is he making such a big deal out of this in the first place?

Gojo looks at you, flabbergasted. He groans in exasperation. Were the random (but constant) phone calls, lunches (and dinners), and just generally wanting to be with you not enough? What more does he have to do to make you realize?

Jealousy is a fickle thing. Satoru hates uncertainty, especially when it concerns him. It makes him feel weak. The good thing about fickle feelings is that they can be replaced by something more consistent, more complete, more gratifying. And he’s pretty fucking sure that he loves you by now, even when you’re too thickskulled to recognize that.

Satoru stands up and makes his way in front of you. He towers over you easily, bringing a hand to cup your chin and look at him.

“The next time you need something, and I mean anything— you tell me,” he says. He lacks his usual air of playfulness, instead replaced by a more stern tone— one that forces you to listen. “I can give you whatever you need.”

It’s your turn to stare now. You can feel your ears run hot at the implications with what your senior just said. “Okay, I will,” you whisper. “Thank you, Gojo.”

“Satoru.” he all but demands.

“Thanks, Satoru.”

*throws this into the tags to distract everyone from the fact I haven’t finished his bday fic*

[worldsewage]

Hehe may I ask about evil Callie?

(The evil/brainwashed) Callie here functions a bit differently… as I also use her to explore what exactly mud mouths are… and the octarian’s relationship with their ally, Salmonids…

Explanation under the cut. 🚧

Due to constrained relations between them and the other main dominating species— (salmonid/octarian vs inklings)— most Inklings, namely younger generations, are more desperate to fix and mend the relationship.

(There is plenty more to this! But I don’t want to make this come across as far more convoluted than it needs to be, so here have this for now:📒)

Octavio contacted Callie directly, albeit in secret, telling her that he has plans that would be a step forward in ending the tension between the Inklings and Octarian-Salmonid groups. What he had introduced was a new type of “ink” that would make their species “salmonid friendly”, and he wanted Callie to be the one to be the first public appearance with this new Ink in hopes to reach a wider audience…

Most of that isn’t true— but to Callie— who is a direct descendant of a war leader, was raised as an agent, and lives in a fairly dangerous city zone that floods, that sounded like a better step towards a better life, and she went for it.

This ink is known as MUD— and this “ink” isn’t technically ink at all, as mentioned in a previous post, most inks are a synthetic toxic poison, designed for warfare, but this ink on the contrary, wasn't designed by Inkfish, it was designed by Salmonids.

MUD is a slimy corrosive ink designed to rival Inkfish’s ink, namely in salmon runs and Ink Wasted territories, one that blends into the grounds and spreads out quickly and efficiently much like Inkfish ink, but one that corrodes Inklings by absorbing into them, and leaves salmonids completely safe from any burning effects.

The Octarian were the ones tasked with creating this new bio-weapon, as an added benefit being it would not affect their species, (they would be safe from it regardless, considering Salmon-Runs are an Inkling exclusive event, and Octolings were surprised when they learned about them.)

They tried different methods of testing it, and ultimately, the project failed— Mud uses both Salmonid and Inkling DNA in its creation, and when Mud was being developed, it melted Salmonids like Ink typically does due to its hyper-corrosive nature, but because it carried Inkling + Salmonid DNA, the salmonid’s skin would attempt to mimic the properties of inklings and constantly try to reconstruct itself into the “swim” form, which made Salmonids a walking (or rather, squirming) sludge, these monsters became known as MUDMOUTHS, and are not truly considered alive, since they run exclusively on the Running Instinct that exists in Salmonid DNA.

And in turn, when the ink was absorbed into Inklings— the previously noted “running instinct” would have an almost Kraken-Esque affect on inklings before corroding and splatting them.

The running instinct would work as intended, everything they eat immediately converts to growth in preparation for an arduous journey, they’re extremely aggressive, and they have a desire to return to the salmonid birthplace.

Mud would splat inklings upon prolonged contact, but Inklings who were test subjects for mud were slowly injected with Mud over a course of time. These subjects were disoriented and had a sort of “positive” aggressive attitude that didn’t falter even in the face of family or friends.

They are easy to persuade and it’s unclear if this is due to the pain of getting the ink-content in their bodies replaced by this synthetic fake-ink, or if the running instinct muddles their thoughts. It’s probably a healthy mix of both.

Dj Octavio, kept Callie by his side, since in her current state her mind would be too fogged up to dispute or make sense of what he’s making her do.

He planned on using Callie to stir up trouble in Inkopolis solely for the sake of rising tension. Octavio is constantly searching for reasons to make Inkling’s an enemy in the eyes of everyone who sees them, and painting Callie— a well known public figure; a known descendant of Captain Cuttlefish— as vicious would do wonders for allowing most people to view the Octarian as a force that would more desirably be backed up, it would reinforce their armies. And make them overall stronger if people felt they had reason to target Inklings.

He didn’t get this far due to Agent Four’s interference.

But, he got to accomplish many theft missions using Callie— which included robbing Inkopolis of some of the Zapfish Generators, which are giant machines that are powered thanks to the Zapfish, and thanks to the Zap-Ink— ⤵️

(Above image is from here) — Octavio was able to use said generators to restore power to many of the war-affected bio-domes that have been obsolete for decades, WITHOUT the need for a Zapfish.

But his reasoning can still be dumbed down to a petty move on Octavio’s part— who despite having a safer ground in the domes due to a good trade relationship with Salmonids and a vast space away from water— he still feels bitter about losing the remaining lands. And because of this the Octarian are plenty more war driven, and they are more likely to easily fall to the fervor of these schemes and battles.

[daycourtofficial]

Prophesize Me

Summary: Everyone finds out you and Azriel are mates before the two of you do.

Author’s note: I really love this concept, and I hope you guys do too!! 💕

“I would ask you how my niece is doing, however I have an inkling that she’s doing quite well, and will be better soon.”

Rhysand hated whenever Helion got like this. With all of Helion’s knowledge, occasionally he would like to speak in riddles. After receiving confused looks from Feyre and Rhys, Helion handed them a piece of paper, with the words,

“6 becomes 8,

Shadows dance in his wake,

Cobalt light, night skies,

Golden string ties”

Rhysand and Feyre look at each other, both looking incredibly confused, when Helion chirps in.

“My sister was loved by the Mother and the cauldron. When she had all 7 of her babes, the cauldron blessed each of them with a mate.”

Their eyes go wide, searching for you in the crowd of partygoers, and Feyre’s surprise makes her blurt out, “she has a mate?”

Helion chuckles. “Yes, she and her brothers all do. But none of them know who their mate is. Just that they have one somewhere. They were each blessed with a prophecy denoting the identity of their mate.”

He looks pointedly at the paper in Rhys’s hands.

“I started having suspicions when I visited you in Night a few weeks ago, so I went back and reviewed their prophecies and I think we can take an educated guess as to the subject of hers.”

All three of them look at you and Azriel, the two of you engrossed in conversation with one of your brothers.

“Six becomes eight. Azriel has two brothers, me and Cassian. She has six brothers already.” Rhys says, shock all over his face at knowing his brother, who deserves this so much, is going to get his mate. He’s almost vibrating with happiness.

“Do they know?” Feyre asks Helion.

“No,” Helion sighs, “The curse of the prophecy is that the subjects can’t know. If you talk to them about it, it’ll just sound like you’re speaking nonsense.”

“Could we tell Azriel?”

“My assumption would be if he were her mate, if you tried, it would just sound like nonsense. It could be a way to test the theory.”

Feyre and Rhysand couldn’t stop smiling at each other, speaking mind to mind.

“This is incredible. She’s wonderful, she’s adorable! We’ve known her for a while, we all like her, she’s already part of the family.”

“And we know her family! She’s related to Helion - whom we love dearly.”

“How the hell are we going to keep Azriel’s mate a secret from him?”

“How the hell are we going to keep Azriel’s mate a secret from Cassian?”

Cassian wasn’t a spymaster, but he always had a sixth sense when it came to knowing things about his friends. One look at Feyre and Rhys and he’ll know that they know something.

“Do you know what the golden string ties?” Helion asks, genuine curiosity on his face.

Feyre and Rhys look at each other, trying to recall a golden string. Feyre’s eyes go wide as she remembers, “I saw a box In her room a few days before solstice with a gold ribbon around it, but I never saw it in the pile of gifts.”

Rhys turns to her, “I saw Azriel carrying a tiny box with gold string around it a week ago. He wouldn’t tell me anything,” Rhys thinks for a moment, “and I don’t recall seeing them exchange gifts.”

Helion is interested in this - you confided in your uncle about most things, but your love life was not one of them. Helion loved gossip, but when it came to you, it wasn’t just fun gossip. It was your life.

“Solstice was just yesterday - if the prophecy is directly mentioning something that happened on Solstice, then if they are mates, the bond should snap any day now.”

The three of them continue watching you, Azriel, and one of your brothers converse, when Azriel says something that makes you and your brother howl with laughter.

“It can be hard knowing how things will turn out - prophecies are a deep interest of mine,” Helion says, watching you with a smile on his face, “it’s nice that this one will have a happy ending.”

-

Feyre and Rhysand kept the secret from Cassian for twelve hours, a brand new record for them. They were all standing in the kitchen of the house of wind, telling him what they knew. They weren’t too concerned with you and Azriel finding them because the two of you stayed behind in the day court for a few extra days.

When they told him, they honestly thought they had short-circuited him. He just kept going “her… and him… and her…” until eventually the biggest grin spread across his face and he lunged and pulled Feyre into a bone-crushing hug.

“I have to get the feelings out and she’s not here for me to do this to so I’m pretending you’re her!” He says, while spinning Feyre around while she giggles.

Once Cassian is done spinning, he sets Feyre down and looks at them and goes, “okay, so what do we do now? Any schemes?”

“Why are we scheming?” Feyre asks, a little wobbly from the spinning.

“Well we could lock them in a room together,” Rhys says, not answering his mate.

“We could send them on a dangerous mission together, and they’ll be so shaken by how close they come to death, BOOM, the bond snaps,” Cassian says animatedly.

Feyre looks at him, assessing him, “Cass, are you reading romance books?”

He stutters a little, “sometimes Nesta reads out loud so I can fall asleep more quickly.”

“Aww reading really is so boring to you it puts you to sleep,” Rhys coos, reaching over to pinch Cassian’s cheeks, “she reads you bedtime stories.”

“Anyway,” Cassian draws out, trying to draw attention back to the matter at hand, “what are we going to do about our little shadowsinger and our little princess of day?”

-

Cassian was asked to keep his mouth shut and tell no one. So naturally by the time the sun rose the next day, the entire inner circle knew, as did Cassian’s favorite barista and Rita.

“He’s going to be pissed you’re telling all of Velaris his private information, especially before he even knows it,” Rhys tells Cassian, in their war council like meeting.

“He won’t be pissed in the slightest - it’s going to snap any day and we won’t see them for months. Besides, he already struts around town with her, no one was going to be surprised at this,” Cassian says, and Feyre’s shocked his face doesn’t hurt from how hard he’s been smiling since he heard the news.

Cassian did have a point - tons of Velaris citizens had come up to Feyre to ask if the you and the spymaster were together, most feeling disappointed when she said no, none being brave enough to ask the shadowsinger himself.

Mor was buzzing with excitement, her guilt from leading Azriel on has dissipated since you entered their lives, but now even moreso that you’re his mate. She’s especially happy that that means you’ll likely become a more permanent resident in the night court. The inner circle adored you, but they were always afraid you’d eventually just go back to your home in the day court to be with your brothers and Helion.

“I mean, they’re still in day, so maybe the bond did snap, and we just won’t see them again until the spring!” Mor laughs, true excitement coming from her. “Is there a way to know about the bond long distance?”

“I like Cassian’s idea of sending them on a mission, send them to winter so they’ll have to snuggle for warmth,” Lucien, who happened to be one of your oldest friends, speaks up. Elain hits him on the chest, rolling her eyes at her mate.

“Oh oh oh,” Mor pipes in, “we get a male to hit on her, oooh that would really piss off Azriel.”

“He’s already going to be super territorial once the bond snaps, if that happens he genuinely might try to hide her away for years,” Rhys replies, knowing how territorial Azriel already was over you.

“What if we all just disappear for a few days? Leave the two of them here in the townhouse?” Elain says, and Lucien rubs her thigh.

The group considers it - most of them do have their own homes in the city, leaving you and Azriel mostly by yourselves in the townhouse, but the inner circle usually drops by throughout the day. Cassian alone probably comes by five times a day - even more when Nesta’s upset with him.

“None of us visit, and we can’t allow them to come visit us.” Feyre says.

“Just want to point out this was essentially the first idea I had of locking them in a room together,” Rhys grins.

The group continues arguing, with Elain’s idea being the frontrunner.

-

You and Azriel stayed in the day court for an extra night. You got incredibly drunk at the late solstice party with your family, and you also wanted to show Azriel around the day court palace.

You two spent most of the day in some of your favorite libraries - just the sight of one taking Azriel’s breath away. You two spent hours walking around the libraries, telling him about growing up here. You also showed him around the museums - noting to him one of the paintings that was donated by Feyre. You had joked that of course it featured Helion on his pegasus.

Now you were back in your private chambers, showing him your much less impressive personal library.

“Do you miss living here?” Azriel asks, the question on his mind since you all came to the party, after seeing how happy you were with your family.

“Mm, yes and no. I like spending a few weeks here out of the year, I love coming for holidays or just to visit, but it feels like a distant home, like I’m 9 years old,” you say, turning to face him, “I’ve traveled a good bit around Prythian, and honestly I never felt as at home as I do in Velaris.”

The confession hangs in the air. The unspoken words sitting on your tongue, not being brave enough to utter them - “I never felt at home until you.”

He can’t help the grin on his face as he says, “if I may, night court black suits you very well.”

Your cheeks flame as you reply, “it suits you very well, too.”

The two of you somehow closer than you were, only about a foot apart, when a knock shatters the moment. Azriel swears he hears a tiny groan from you as he steps away from you, looking over the shelves of your books, when one title catches his eye. As your attention is focused on the fae who came in to let you know that dinner is ready, he slips the book into his coat pocket.

-

The two of you had winnowed back to the townhouse, directly into your private chambers.

“Can I ask you about something?” Azriel looks at you, curiosity all over his face.

“Anything,” you reply, neither of you moving from the tight hold you had on each other while winnowing.

“Why do you own this?” As he says it, he pulls out a book that you received for Solstice from Amren, one you were especially trying to keep hidden, which is exactly why you brought it with you to leave in your library in the day court.

“Ilyrians: Pleasing a Partner with Wings?” He asks, reading the title. Your mouth is wide open, looking like a fish without water.

“There’s an inscription,” you reply, and Azriel can barely hear it. He’s a little concerned his teasing has gone too far, when he opens the inscription to find Amren’s handwriting.

“Sun Girl,

make a move on the shadowboy. Here’s a guide on how.

Lukewarm regards,

Amren”

Azriel was shocked that Amren would get involved in any of their love lives, much less yours. He didn’t even know if Amren liked you, as much as Amren can like anyone.

“Amren gave you a solstice gift?” Azriel asks. You nod, still hiding behind your hands in embarrassment.

“And she wants you to fuck me?”

You choke on air at his bluntness, “well - uh- I mean - yes but maybe like not in a casual way?”

He looks at you, taking in how clearly embarrassed you are at this gift, at his discovery of it.

“So not in a casual way?” He asks, loving how cute you are in this moment.

You look at your hands, you look around your room, for anything, really, when you say, “not um in a casual way, yes.”

“So you would fuck me in a non-casual way?” He asks, clearly enjoying watching you squirm through this conversation.

You pause, and Azriel’s again afraid he’s gone too far, when he hears you say, “yes.”

“Do you.. have feelings… for me?” He asks, none of his own feelings showing on his face.

You look up at him. Now or never, you think.

“Yes,” you say, looking him in the eye, “yes.”

He continues looking at you as he responds, “good.”

“Good,” you say, not sure what he means, but not wanting to ask.

“Good,” he says, and before you can say the same, he pulls your face into his. Kissing him was an experience for your entire body- you could feel his hands on your face, his body pressed against you, when you felt something in your chest go pop!

You stopped kissing him to look at him in shock, when he’s already smiling at you. “You know!” you shout, “you knew!”

He laughs at your reaction, taking a moment before telling you, “it snapped when we exchanged gifts. I uh needed a few days to process it.”

You nod, Azriel was not someone who took change well, and this was a big one. You can understand him taking a few days to tell you.

“Needed time to process it, but do you uh regret it?” You ask, trepidation coating your voice.

“Not at all. I just… never thought I’d have this. I didn’t want to start things off by saying or doing the wrong thing.”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness, feeling the warmth of the bond in his chest.

-

Rhys was no fool - he knew you two were in day and could return at any minute, so he shielded the room so if either of you came you wouldn’t be able to hear the discussion. He didn’t account for the fact that maybe you were already upstairs, and if you walked by and saw all of your friends gathered not making a noise, it would terrify you.

Which is exactly what happened.

They all heard you scream and turn to see you in the open doorway, Azriel’s shirt hanging off your body. Rhys starts to pull the shield down, wanting to make a crack at you wearing his brother’s clothes, when they’re all hit by the smell. It was so incredibly strong, they all were practically suffocated by it. It smelled like the early morning, when the moon kisses the earth, allowing for night to meet the day.

It all happened so fast, your scream, the shield coming down, Azriel winnowing in a defensive position after hearing your scream from upstairs, all of your friends screaming at the scent of the bond.

Azriel’s in front of you, ready to defend you, only to find Cassian charging at the two of you. He engulfs both you and Azriel in a hug, picking you both up and spinning you. You, in Azriel’s shirt, and Azriel, in his undershorts.

“It’s been like six hours, I thought they wouldn’t know until at least tomorrow,” you muffle into Cassian’s chest at Azriel, who huffs in response.

After what feels like a lifetime of spinning, Cassian sets you down, and you have to brace yourself on your knees to keep from throwing up.

“What are you guys doing here? In a shielded room?” You ask, hands still on your knees, and no one wants to meet your gaze, until Amren speaks.

“They discovered your prophecy, girl.”

Azriel looks to you, confusion on his face. You had honestly forgotten all about the prophecy - you didn’t know the contents, so you didn’t ever let yourself think of it.

You turn to Azriel, “my brothers and I have prophecies about who our mates are, but we can’t hear our own prophecies until they’re fulfilled. I never knew what it stated, just that I had a mate somewhere.”

“And you all heard it?” Azriel asks, looking around the room like everyone was a threat. If the smell didn’t give the bond away, Azriel’s hyper focus on his family as threats certainly did.

“Well,” Cassian interjects, “Helion told Feyre and Rhys, who told the rest of us.”

Nests hits his arm, “they told Cassian and he told the rest of us, big blabbermouth.”

“We just found out last night, and we were meeting to see if there was anything we could do about helping it snap, but it seems like that was a bit pointless.”

You look at Azriel, everything is so new, you have no idea how he would feel about being a pawn in your prophecy, much less about his family knowing something so important with you two being the last ones to know.

The room is still loud, Mor and Cassian found wine bottles and are popping them open. Everyone’s celebrating, while Azriel leans down and whispers to you.

“So, the mother made you for me,” he quirks his mouth into a grin.

“Actually, I’m three days older than you, so I think the mother made you for me,” you retort.

“Oh no, however will I go on? Being made for such a thing of beauty and brains?” He asks. Then he pauses, insecurity taking hold of him for a moment, “are you disappointed? I mean surely growing up knowing you had a mate, you dreamt up imaginary males whisking you away. How do I compare?”

You really take a look at him, a rare moment of vulnerability from him, as you consider a reply. “The males always whisked me away, off to foreign lands.” You look ahead at the chaos of the sheer joy your shared family is experiencing at the news. “You have brought me home.”

You grab his hand, rubbing your thumb across the back of it, hoping that that answer was enough for now. You have centuries to show that the imaginary males are nothing to the real thing.

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Mine (All Mine)

Request: None A/N: Please enjoy some short smut and possessive!cooper. Nothing important otherwise :) Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, attempted SA, P in V sex, Cooper licking blood, 18+ MINORS DNI! Summary: Cooper doesn't share what's his, and he sure as hell doesn't let anyone take it by force.

Word Count: 2.4k+

(Gif Credit to @victoryrifle)

“Keep walkin’!” 

You stumble over the rusty leg irons binding your feet. The slave trader yapping in your ear proceeds to shove you once again, but you bite your tongue. 

Nothing could ever just go according to plan. 

Running low on both Vials and sustenance, you’d led a hacking Cooper into the nearest town. It was desolate, but what town wasn’t in this age? You weren’t planning on staying long anyway; you just needed to get Cooper somewhere relatively safe and barter with whoever happened to be running the pharmacy that day.

Too bad the entire town was run by Slavers, up to and including the old Mister Handy running its dingy medical outpost. You were sedated and down before the inkling to fight ever came along, left to wake up in a wood cage with your hands and feet bound. 

You went hoarse from screaming pointlessly at your captors. Your wooden prison was sat carelessly in the open, unbearable heat beating down. The whipping wind ensured that sand found its way into every crevice. There was no doubt your skin was scorched from the sun.

And they left you there, until the sun set and you could hear the roar of a raucous crowd from the town center. 

Cooper was back there somewhere, probably having hacked up a lung in the empty shell of a house you’d broken into on the outskirts of town. You were careful to board the door back up when you left, and hoped no one had retraced your steps. 

“I said move! You fuckin’ deaf?” A Slaver grabs you painfully by the ear and yanks. “Bein’ deaf drops your price.”

The other women you’re chained to - in a single file line behind you with very little slack on the chains - cower in fear. You glare at the man and decide headbutting him is the best course of action, knocking your skull into the soft part of his nose. 

“Wish I was so I didn’t have to hear you run your mouth.”

The Slaver cracks his most-likely broken nose back into place and smirks. “Maybe I’ll buy you myself. Teach you a damn lesson.”

He turns away then, letting the rest of the guards lead you down a narrow alley between two buildings. Creaky wooden stairs greet you, and you step up them without hesitation. If nothing else, you’d give the Slavers no sense of satisfaction by putting fear on display. 

The town square has been converted into a makeshift stage and audience area, where tens of people sit, stand and holler as you’re all led on stage. They all hold small signs with numbers, and it doesn’t take you long to realize it’s an auction. 

They start with the woman farthest to your left, yelling out how many caps they deemed her worthy of. It continues down the row until the auctioneer, who you realize had four eyes total on his face, stops in front of you. 

“Mint condition, this one is.” He yells into the crowd and slaps a firm hand onto your shoulder. “How many caps for her?”

You try to keep up with the people throwing numbers out, but there’s too many faces and not enough ambient light to see them all. Eventually the auctioneer moves away, and you’re left to stand there. The other women are given the same treatment, until each of them is labeled with a price and effectively sold to the highest bidder. 

The auctioneer makes an announcement about cap exchange as the crowd is dissipating, but you’re still bound in chains. Your eyes dart around, looking for any unbecoming figures that come towards you. Men meet with the auctioneer one by one, and are slowly allowed to leave with their prizes. The women are a mix of cryers and defiers, some simply accepting their fate with tears in their eyes while others scream and thrash as they’re dragged off. 

You look to the auctioneer when it’s only you left, trying to figure out what was going on. One slaver makes his way to you, grabbing at the iron cuffs  to unlock them. 

“Nah, man. Leave her cuffed.”

The slaver in front of you grins at the one who’d spoken. Coincidentally, the same whose nose you’d broken minutes ago. He steps into your field of view, and you realize he wasn’t bluffing when he said he’d buy you. Ice-cold terror flows through your veins at the helplessness of being cuffed, but you refuse to show it.

“Nasty, huh? Just how I like 'em’.”

Broken Nose grabs you by the collar and yanks you close enough that you can smell the teeth rotting out of his mouth. “Oh, I’m gonna like it. That’s for sure.”

In what is probably a poor choice, you spit in his face. Just like the headbut, it was impulsive and split-second. You don’t regret it, but you realize it’s not a great idea. Regardless, you weren’t about to go down without a fight. 

Unfortunately for you, now he’s not worried about damaging goods before a sale. The slaver backhands you, and the force sends you tumbling to the ground. You’re struggling to your hands and knees, tangled in ridiculously long chains and fumbling with your cuffs. Broken Nose kneels in front of you and grabs you by the neck. 

“Need a lesson in manners, huh?” He growls. 

You take your first good look at him. He’s probably ten years older than yourself, with yellowing teeth and greasy black hair that hangs in a stringy manner around his face. The bridge of his nose is bruised, yellow and purple all over. Dried blood is still caked around his mouth. 

“Fuck you.” 

He finally snaps, and grabs a hold of the chains. You’re dragged off the stage and pushed into the darkness of the alleyway. One fist latches into your hair, and the other replaces itself around your throat. 

“We’ll start here.” He shakes you, bringing your face within centimeters of his. “When I say something, you fuckin’ listen!” 

You’re on the ground before you know it, and large hands grab at the old leather belt around your waist. You kick and thrash to the best of your ability while bound, screaming like a banshee. The slaver manages to pin you down and crawl over top, one hand fumbling with the zipper of his pants while the other holds your cuffed wrists down. The sound of belts jangling encourages you to fight more, and you thrash upwards. He might be bigger than you, but he’s a sloppy fighter and lets one of your wrists slip free. 

Without hesitation, you swing the iron cuff and chain as hard as you can into his face. 

“Agh! You’re a dead bitch, you know that?” He stumbles to the side, leaning against a building for support and clutching his now-bleeding forehead. His pants hang loose, dirty boxers on display.

You’re on your back, covered in both your blood and his. Your chest heaves, and you stare down your would-be assaulter. 

“Y’know, I missed that last exchange.” A familiar drawl echoes from the back of the alley. “You mind repeatin’ it, boy?”

The Slaver snorts. “You want some? Go ahead and try. She’d be better off in the fuckin’ ground.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’d have to try.” Spurs clank down the empty alleyway from behind you, “Somethin’ tells me she’d come willingly.”

The Ghoul stands firm in his place, hand hovering over his gun like an old western standoff. Your head drops to the ground in relief. The slaver, though, looks more and more irritated by the moment. He glares at the Ghoul who’s now only a few feet behind you.

“Fuckin’ ghoul.” Broken Nose growls, and pulls a pistol. “Why don’t you get lost?”

Cooper takes a few more steps forward, sidestepping your body. The Slaver keeps the gun level with him. “‘Fraid I can’t do that.”

“Oh yeah?” The slaver gestures wildly with his pistol. “Why’s that?”

The Ghoul darts forward like a puma, ducking the shot that’s fired at him. You see a knife glint in the dim light, and hear it cut through flesh. 

“‘Cause nobody touches what’s mine.”

A flash of heat shoots through you in spite of the circumstances. You watch Broken Nose fall to the ground, barely alive as blood gushes from a gash across his neck. Cooper’s knife drops from his hand, falling to blood-stained dirt. He turns to you slowly. 

“You alright?”

He’s covered in blood, obviously pissed off, and has never been more attractive. 

“Fantastic.” You breathe. The fiery determination and blatant possessiveness on display by the Ghoul shoot bolts of want straight to your cunt. 

The Ghoul steps over Broken Nose’s legs to get to you. His eyes are dark, but do a once over to check you for injuries. 

“He touch you?” Cooper’s drawl is thick. So much so that it almost twists his words into a snarl. 

You push yourself to sit up. “Not anywhere delicate.”

Cooper hums and uses your chains to pull you up. Your legs are sore from kicking, and arms raw from the cuffs. “Whatta ‘bout this?”

You look down as he reaches to you and fiddles with the unfastened belt. His hands linger at the button of your jeans, tugging at the fabric. 

“Oh, he tried.” You shiver as Cooper’s fingers  dance over the skin of your stomach. “But I wouldn’t let him.”

His leather gloves fist into your shirt and yank you close. You trip over the chains and fall into his chest. 

“Damn right.” His breath washes over your ear. “Nobody touches you like that but me.”

You’d be lying if you said wetness didn’t gather between your legs faster than a speeding bullet. Cooper’s eyes jotted town towards your dangling belt once more before he used your bounds to spin you back against the wall. One of his knees jammed between your thighs, and his hands landed heavily on either side of your head. 

You wet your lips as he hovers mere centimeters away. The Ghoul’s eyes are transfixed on your chest and stomach, where your white tank top is bared and covered in red stains. He lowers a hand to brush up your stomach, between your breasts and through rivulets of crimson. It’s immediately stuck into his mouth, and you moan shakily as his tongue darts out to taste your attacker’s blood. 

Cooper turns his head and spits. “Slavers always taste foul.” 

You readjust yourself on his knee to send pleasant waves of heat to your core. “Cooper Howard?”

He looks down at you, hat brim drawn low on his brow and desire burning bright in his eyes. There’s a bulge visible just below his belt that makes you salivate. 

“What could you possibly want, darlin’?” His marred face leans in close, lips brushing your ears. Teeth nip at your earlobe, “Couldn’t be to fuck right here in the open where you was attacked by some other fella, now is it?”

Now, you know that sentence should give you pause. 

However, this world is fucked beyond belief. 

You whimper out your answer, and the Ghoul continues his steady ministrations down your neck and in that sensitive spot behind your ear. With your hands bound, you can’t do much more than tangle your fingers in his shirt and hold. 

When he resurfaces, your neck is wet with saliva and sweat.

“I’ll take care of you, babydoll.” He purrs. “Right here, right now. You just gotta do one thing for me.”

You fist your hand in his shirt, but are surprised to find the cuffs slipping away after he fumbles with them for a moment. A quick glance shows him pocketing a key, but you’re too worked up to focus on one thing for too long. 

“What do I gotta do?”

You really don’t mean to sound so desperate, but something about Cooper always has you heated and dripping as soon as he initiates anything intimate. 

“Just tell me.” He grunts as you tug at his belt with newly freed hands. “Who do you belong to?”

Oh, you’re fucked.

“You. Fuck, I belong to you.” You gasp as you free him from his pants. “I want you to use me to get off.”

A scarred hand wraps tight around your neck and forces your head upwards. “Damn straight.”

It takes no time to yank your pants low enough for him to enter you. You’ve flipped so your front side is pinned to the building, legs spread. Cooper takes long, slow thrusts at first before picking up the pace. Large, strong hands hold your hips steady. You brace yourself with your hands, moaning in time with his thrusts. He’s stable throughout, only growling pet names into your ear when you let out a whine. The Ghoul begins to stagger when he’s close, and it’s not long before you feel his release coating your walls and dripping out onto the dirt. 

You don’t realize how unstable and sore your legs are until he’s sliding out of you, filthy noises following. His cock pulses against your swollen slit before you fully collapse. 

“Easy now.” Cooper catches you, one hand attempting to fasten himself back into his jeans, “Seems that we gotta go back to camp, huh?”

Your mind is alight with want for him, and you whine in his absence. “Coop, please.”

“Oh no need to beg, sugar.” He fixes your pants as well, “I plan on taking good care of you when we get there.”

Back at camp, he fulfills his promise and more. 

You beg and plead for your release, and it’s granted with enthusiasm. 

And after it’s done, you both ache for sleep, to rest sore muscles and heal new bruises. Some from fights, and others from passion. A blanket of stars coerces you to shut your eyes, and you’re helpless to resist. This night could have ended much differently - namely, with a bullet in your head- so you think about how grateful you are to have the legendary Ghoul at your side, protecting you on your shared journey for the truth. Willing to fight through his own suffering and dependencies to keep you safe in spite of his rocky exterior. 

You like to think he’s a big teddy bear, but you didn’t dare put it out into the world while in his vicinity.

The thoughts are fleeting, and you fall into oblivion while tucked into the side of vengeance itself. It’s a place many others, even in this hellscape of a Wasteland, wouldn’t dare to get near. 

The big, bad Ghoul.

And he’s all mine.

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

[hrdenha]

— little love | l.hs, s.jy

synopsis: there you are in between of the two of your favorite people, so caught up in comfort that they gave after a long, tiring month. well, feeling your holes getting filled by them wasn't a bad idea either.

pairings: bestfriend!lee heeseung x reader x bestfriend!sim jaeyun

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! twisted little story thus, twisted heejake. reader is sleeping at first. somnophilia as a consented fantasy. threesome, oral s*x, penetr*tion, kind of has corruption k*ink.

AUTHOR'S NOTE — !

since it's heetober and soon to be jake-nover (?), i decided to write polysmut (? not sure if that's what its called). lol, who am i kidding? It doesn't have any connection with hee and jake's birthday month. i just want to lessen the growing number of this blog's drafts. this smut has been accumulating spider webs since last year so i decided to finally continue and release it. well, i hope you enjoy it and pls let me know what you think. i need feedback so MUCH

There's this unknown wet yet slippery feeling that was constantly pulling you out of your dreamless sleep. Your mind was somehow groggy, your head filled with empty spaces but it's rather heavy.

The wet thing travels all over your body until it stops on top of your nerve endings. As the heavy feeling in your head was slowly but surely lifted up while you woke up so were your senses.

You felt a pair... no, not just a pair but even two sets of hands stroking your body. One has you down there while the other dominates the uppers.

A thin line between pleasure and distraught was drawn. You can't help but sigh in comfort, doing so as if it were the signal that finally blurred the said line.

You huff, eyes trying to slowly open on their own, seemingly alarmed by the new fiasco inside your head. One can even feel the dust formed on your cornea from the long sleep you just had. Slowly, albeit surely. As though, you were afraid that this fine affection would vanish as soon as you woke up.

Oh, but you were wrong.

The room was dark and silent. Still, it has a familiar inkling. There's an opened yet volumed TV in the corner thus, it was the only one that lightens the room though in a minimal manner.

Right, you remembered. It's Friday night. Heeseung and Jake decided to visit you for another movie night of the month. You recall how you laughed at Jake's corny jokes with Heeseung while all of you had your favorite food and drinks on hand. How Jake pouted, complaining you forgot about them. Of course, you responded with a peer smile, which you don't want to admit despite it being true for some reason.

You're so busy these days with your college life that you don't have the time to worry about other matters. Thus, this arrangement also takes a toll on your health. And as much as you like spending time with both of them, you can't help but fall asleep. Being in between the two of your favorite people helped you be lulled into the arms of sleep. Completely oblivious about what comes next.

As your mind processes the daily events, you hear a moan in front of you. Looking down at the sound, you saw Jake wholeheartedly sucking your breast. The sight caught you off guard though, in a good way, your lips can't help but release a mewl.

The sound causes Jake to open his eyes, looking up to meet yours, something that makes your breath shake.

The darkness and lust lurking in his eyes fight in contrast to how fluffy his black hair comes undone just above, covering a little portion of his eyes. And, the way the moonlight shines brightly just behind him, makes him look more ethereal.

Jake smirked before releasing your right breast with a pop, "Little love was finally awake! I thought you were gonna miss the party just like what you always do"

You wanted to ask, but suddenly —

A chuckle was heard from behind— at the same time, vibration rolled over your back, "You're awake, y/n?" Heeseung whispered lovingly in your ear before sucking it.

"Wh-what?" You managed to let out, demented blood flowing in your veins as the two men before you released low laughs at your reaction.

"Are you loving it? Does it feel good, love?" Jake coo-ed, humming at the end of his sentence before licking your bare nipples with his soft tongue, eyes boring into you.

"We didn't forget about the promise we made last time, little love" Heeseung whispered, taking in your scent with his eyes closed, rubbing his hands lovingly on your sides.

"We told you that we're gonna take care of you and look how we're doing well" Jake cheered while still assaulting your breast. He said those phrase unconcerned, as if there's nothing wrong to begin with.

You didn't say anything but Heeseung felt your doubts and he's determined to blur it down. "Y/N..." Heeseung whispered, and you felt like heaven just stumped on you.

Why is he calling you by your name? It should be little love, right?

You hummed in protest, courage wasn't enough for your voice to come out. Despite this, the older of the two understands it without problem.

Heeseung smiled when his eyes meet with yours. Hesitation was nowhere found everywhere on your orbs. Not one bit.

Unconsciously, you put one of your hands behind his head pushing heeseung onto yours as both of you share a messy kiss. Tongue on each other, exploring every cavern of your mouth.

"Fuck, this is the hottest scene I've seen in my life" Jake whispered causing you to cut your connection with heeseung ang look at the man who just talked.

You were sitting so well-behaved on his hyung's lap, like a pretty canvas displayed for someone with artistic eyes, waiting to be worshipped. And that someone is Jake, the one who's vocally appreciating every curve and flaw you have with deep fascination.

Heeseung's tongue brought you back to the reality of land. His clapper traveled on your neck, right hand etching fine circles on your clit. His left hand prodded on your hips keeping you intact on his lap while Jake deliciously suck on your breast, his right hand playing with your left nipples whilst his left hand caressed your body lovingly leaving you breathless.

It was fucking crazy. You were going crazy. Perhaps, that's their unsaid vow and it is definitely effective. You just can't help but want more.

"hmm— S-stop..." Both of them stared at you further observing your reaction though their hands continuously doing it's god-given work.

"Oh, really?" The younger asks, "Do you really want us to stop?" You felt him pinching your buds painfully yet surprisingly, it just made you yearn for more. "Do you really want Heeseung hyung to stop playing with this?" He whispered, putting his finger inside you. His eyes held a mischievous glint at the sound it released.

You didn't answer but the way you swallowed your objections was enough for Jake to continue his rendezvous. He smiled at you, so sweet, so innocent. A smile he always gives you on a daily basis. It made you feel safe, made you melt in their arms.

"Do you trust Seungie?" Heeseung suddenly asked peeking from your side, his eyes bare an innocent hue. "Y-yes..." A flick was felt on your clit, making you flinch in pleasure.

"Then, do you also trust jakey?" He asked once again, and this time your voice came back in an instant, letting you shout a frustrated, 'Yes!'

Both of the perpetrators chuckled, humming with their honey-glazed voices while gazing at you with lust-filled eyes. Jake lick your nipples goodbye one after another before standing up. Heeseung then pulled his hands on your cotton shorts before lifting you up like a bride.

"Let's continue this in your bedroom, little love" Heeseung whispered pecking your lips.

The next thing you knew, the older of the two gently laying you back flat on your bed.

Jake immediately abolished your stubborn cotton shorts, panties still intact while he disregard the way your tight tank top curled on top of your boobs, which he causes because of Jake's lazy antics to push it up onto your chest to soothe the burning flame on his mouth a few minutes ago.

A pair of hands folded your legs up, not sure who it is as you keep your eyes closed feeling the comfort from every soft touch they did.

"Just like that, love... relax for me" You sure it's jake pecking your forehead his hands gently pinching your nipples, his mouth working on the sweet spots on your neck.

On the other hand, heeseung affectionately caressed your thighs. leaving soft kisses from inside and out, purposely not giving your pussy the attention it needed. You're despairing, from their touch and from the fine dust of lust they wanted you to feel.

There's no doubt that the two men hovering above you, want nothing but you begging for more. And their antics just proved effective.

As heeseung's soft lips travel on your right thigh, jake was taking his time leaving feathery kisses in between your breast. You had enough, whimpering to them as your hips unknowingly lift up.

Unbeknownst to you, so did they. The two of them know how to play this game. They can be patient as long as they need it, but the wet patch on your cotton panties was getting harder and harder to ignore.

Heeseung chuckled, "Someone's impatient..."

You opened your eyes, braving yourself to look straight at both of them. "Please..." As if on queue, a single tear slid down your face then came another staining your naturally blushed cheeks.

That made the men melt on top of you. Spewing nothing but affectionate words in your ears in an attempt to coo you. They wanted this. This is the moment they desire so bad and it's finally here.

You don't know how relieved you are when Heeseung slowly pulls your panties, leaving you with nothing and completely bare. One might feel vulnerable and weak if they're bare and the other party isn't. But surprisingly, Heeseung and jake ensure that you will never ever feel that.

A soft light lighting up the room, soft sheets around you building a soft wave together with your dark brown hair. You felt like an ancient goddess, ready to be filled with love from your loyal devotees.

Heeseung part your legs apart, like someone who's parting the sea. The cold wind made contact causing you to shiver, but heeseung doesn't faze. After all, Jake's up there ensuring your warmth.

"Delicious...", he whispered looking at your folds glistening with your juice. he brought his finger slowly entering you. "And, hot as fuck"

As heeseung did his business, so did jake. He released your lips, looking so proud of how swollen they got while you lay there with your head on the edge of the bed... waiting. Jake then steps back, eyes still on you or rather on your lips. "I want to feel that little mouth you have, little love." Jake whispered, unbuckling his belt. His cock springs out, the tip slapping on his navel with pre-cum oozing out of its head. It looks angry and pink.

"You have a pretty dick, jakey..." You absentmindedly said. That made the two of them chuckled.

"Then, can you help me out with my pretty cock?" You released a shaky 'yes'. "Open wide, little love" And, you did. You opened your mouth as Jake pushed inside. He was so thick that you gag immediately even before his tip reached your throat. And when it does, you feel like you're floating somewhere.

He started slowly, pumping his veiny and thick cock in and out with affection as if he's scared it might scare you. That made you relax. You didn't know having a dick inside your mouth can make you float somewhere.

But then, someone has to pull you down to from the heavens. You flinched when suddenly you felt a tongue on your sensitive clit, teasing it.

It's heeseung, practically torturing you and your pussy from the other side of the bed.

You were so focus on pleasuring jake that you forgot heeseung had you down there. Nothing to worry about though, it's part of the plan. You just didn't know it yet.

Heeseung then had enough, you felt his presence standing up towering over you. The clanking of metal on his belt was the next thing you heard aside from the groans jake was voicing.

"Hurry up, hyung. I can't take it anymore."

The older one didn't bat an eye, instead he immediately brush his cock on your folds tainting it with your love juices. Heeseung even got cocky when he decided to slap your clit with his dick, sending waves through your body.

"A little patient, Jake. I'm still having fun..." Upon hearing it, you softly tap jake's thighs that were still rutting in your mouth. Thankfully, he understands it as jake slowly pulled out.

You lift your head, gazing your eyes to heeseung. "Please, seungie. I need you inside."

The way you fucking beg. "Fuck. Alright, love. Can't say no to that"

Heeseung then, without a word sink deep inside you. "Ugh! Fuck, heeseung!" You moaned in pleasure.

"You're so tight, little love! So. Fucking. Tight." He groaned hovering over you before taking your lips.

"Okay, you guys. I'm gonna get jealous if y/n wouldn't give me her attention now." Jake complained as heeseung released your lips. "You're such a baby, jakey." You teased looking at him as you lay your head back on the bed, your hand taking his length and pumping it before opening your mouth.

The next thing you knew, both of their dicks buried inside you. They started slow and light then gradually picked up their pace. The way heeseung thrust deep inside you made your legs quiver. Jake wasn't letting you go, either. His pretty balls slaps on your nose every thrust making your breathing limited as the tip hits your throat and his free hand travels to give your nipples some attention.

"Fuck, y/n! You're taking me so well." Jake groaned, tracing the bulge from his cock that formed on your throat.

"She's clenching me so well. Our little love is such a slut." Heeseung added. "Are you gonna cum, love? Do you want to cum?" He asked, anticipating an answer from you even though Jake's cock was buried deep inside your throat.

You didn't need to answer though, heeseung knows. That's when he started putting pressure on your lower abdomen, feeling you clenching and moaning even though jake occupied your mouth. You moaned like you didn't care. The pleasure was intense. It feels so fucking good and you can't even scream. So, you moan even if Jake hits your throat with such precision. It sends continuous vibrations to his cock that made him a moaning mess on top of you.

"Naughty" Jake whispered, his hands making it's way on top of your throat giving it a little squeeze.

The pleasure then doubles as the sounds of groans, moans, skin slapping, and cussing gets louder and louder. The room practically smells like sex. You're getting dizzy from the intense pleasure their cock was giving to you. You're getting crazier, you even swear like passing out. The pleasure on your pussy and your throat meet at the center of your body. It didn't take long to feel the bubbling feeling inside you.

"You're gonna cum, love? Cum on my cock, y/n" Heeseung groaned still putting pressure on your lower abdomen as he mercilessly thrust inside you.

"Shit!" Jake cursed feeling your throat tightening more than ever. And before you know it, you let go. It didn't took long before the two men on top of you released their frustrations inside. Jake deep on your throat while heeseung deep inside you, mixing his cum with yours.

Jake slowly pulled out before letting his body fall beside you, giving you the chance to swallow his cum before trying to stabilize your breath. Heeseung on the other hand is still buried inside you, afraid that a drop can be wasted.

You tried to keep your eyes open and your mind alert. But, your body was the one complaining. There are black dots travelling across your vision and it didn't took long before you finally black out.

-------

You didn't know how long you sleep, you're still tired but you're also loving the comfort. You silently opened your eyes, as your throat unconsciously released a hum that you regret after.

You looked around, you're still in your room but everything was changed. Your sheets are new. You don't feel sticky or sweaty just like what you always feel after sex. You're on your favorite clothes which is heeseung's clothes, which is also very big compare to you.

The door on your room opened, revealing two men walking closer to you.

"Hey, little love. How do you feel?" Heeseung asked, taking a seat on your bed beside you while Jake took the part behind him as both of them put all their attention to you.

"I-m... fine" You tried to say but your throat still hurts. It's not a surprise though knowing how intense the evens earlier. So, instead of your full voice, you just tried to whisper it, trying not to irritate your throat more.

Heeseung then look at jake with sharp glares albeit jokingly, "Why are you so harsh and intense?" He questioned the younger one before hitting Jake's thigh that was place on top of your bed. The poor man yelp, screaming as he didn't anticipate the action of his hyung

Jake then pathetically put his arms up, "I'm sorry! Can't help it. And, beside..." But then, he put it down. His face now full of mischief with that teasing smirk, "Y/n loves it. Right, little love?"

You blushed but nodded otherwise. The two men chuckled, cooing at the way you got shy.

"You did good, little love" Heeseung whispered kissing your lips and Jake with your forehead. They both smiled at you as they started to take care of your needs. That's when you realized they have a food with them this whole time.

Breakfast in bed, just for their little love.

---------

FEW MOMENTS BEFORE YOU WOKE UP

"You think we pulled it off, hyung?" Jake whispered, eyes focused on your sleeping face.

"Yeah" Jake thought the Heeseung will say something afterwards but silence wrap the room.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure so."

"This wouldn't drive her away from us right?" Jake once again, asked. His voice suddenly filled with worry at the thought that they might've scared you away. They still haven't had the chance to propose to you the idea of that relationship, so what if you run away before they do that?

Heeseung clicked his tongue, finally meeting his younger friend's gaze, "Jake, relax..." he said patting the man's shoulder. "She's the one who request this from us. She love this as much as we love it."

Jake hummed recalling how you literally beg them to fuck you at the same time.

So, we're not the only one feeling this?

You don't know how long they've been waiting to make you sit there and just beg on their knees to allow them to fuck you at the same time. How relieved and happy they are when you're thinking the same thing.

Well, The only thing is that you're drunk when you said that. But that doesn't matter. As long as they give you what you need then that's what matter the most.

"... I just know this wouldn't be the last time we're doing this with her so, your worries shouldn't be welcome here" Heeseung said, now looking at your sleeping figure.

Jake smiled, tucking your hair behind your ears. "We're ready when that happens."

"Yes, we are. We always are."

— note !

since it's heetober and soon to be jake-nover (?), i decided to write polysmut (? not sure if that's what its called). And, who am i kidding? It doesn't have any connection with hee and jake's birthday month. i just want to lessen the growing number of this blog's drafts. this smut has been accumulating spider webs since last year so i decided to finally continue and release it. well, i hope you enjoyed it and pls let me know what you think. i need feedback so MUCH

© hrdenha | 2023

[barleyo]

Prom Queen. (Re-upload)

Real Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: tumblr took this down. I'm re-uploading it because idgaf. No tags because I'm lazy, read at your own risk. Obviously reader is of age, and obviously, if you DON'T LIKE what I write, DON'T READ what I write, thanks :3

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT AHEAD

You had always dreamed about your senior prom. Even as a young girl, you thought exhaustively about how the night would go. You would wear a gorgeous gown, drink spiked punch, dance and laugh with friends, and most importantly, you would go with a cute boy.

Those dreams fell flat when your strict father outlawed prom for you. He said that prom was just an opportunity for hyped up, hormonal teens to gyrate on each other on school property. Prom was a night where girls opened their legs for their subpar dates who barely made the effort to scrounge up a corsage for them. Prom was the chance for unwanted, "happy accident" babies to be made by teenaged fuck-ups.

In short, prom was for whores. Leon would be damned if he would have a nasty whore of a daughter. It made him sick to even think of you wasting your sweet, nearly virginal body on a shit-for-brains boy whose only sexual experience no doubt came from his own right hand.

So, yeah. Prom was a nonstarter.

Of course, this angered you to no end. You could be heard sobbing each night after Leon's declaration of war on you having any fun was drawn up, but a small part of you thought it was the best.

You knew that prom wasn't like how it was shown in the movies. You wouldn't get an invitation from the hottest boy in school, you wouldn't get there in a decked out limo, and the punch would be lukewarm and watered down at best.

You wouldn't dance: you would have no one to dance with. You would sit alone at one of the tables eating fun sized candy bars aimlessly scattered on the repurposed lunch room tables in your school's gymnasium, while a horde of your peers would dance nasty on each other, being free and young.

The whole time, nobody would look at you, aside from the sly glance paired with a snicker shared between two gossiping teens, indulging in the rumors that floated around about you.

Nobody would want to dance with the girl who had an overprotective daddy that fucked her. Especially when that girl liked it.

The more you thought about it, the more you came to peace with the idea of staying in with Leon. Technically, being demanded to stay at home with him meant that you were sort of, kind of asked on a "date" with a hot guy, even if you shared DNA with said hot guy.

On the day of the dance, Leon had the decency to let you skip school. You sulked in bed the entire day, thinking about what could have been, rather than what was. He did not bother you, having enough sense to let a sleeping dog lay, but at exactly 10:00 PM , you felt your phone ding under your pillow.

'Come downstairs. Wear a dress. Not one of your church ones.'

His texts were always sharp and to the point, just like he was. Commanding. Strict.

You, as always, obliged. You put on one of his favorites, the one that always left his eyes lingering on your body a little too long. As you made your way down the stairs, you heard the faint sound of romantic music playing in the living room, which you naturally followed like a trail of breadcrumbs.

"Dad, what's all this?"

Your living room looked like a scene stripped from a cheesy romance movie. Rose petals scattered on the floor, lights dimmed low, and a tall, hot stud in the midst of it all. Your father's face was stern, but past that you could see the inkling of excitement in him.

"Your prom. I know it meant a lot to you," he said gruffly, adjusting the collar of the nice shirt he wore, "so I did what I could. Hope this'll make you forgive me."

Your feet pattered softly against the cool flooring, bringing your body along with them. You took a final look around the room and let your eyes lock onto your dad.

"I do. S'okay, I'm not mad at you, daddy."

How could you ever be mad at him? Your perfectly stubborn, grouchy, yet sexy father? Your father who—

"You know I just want the best for you, right peach?" Leon grasped you in his arms, snaking both arms around your lower waist while he rested his chin on your head. "Just wanna keep you safe."

"I know."

You both stood like that for a moment, neither speaking. The soft sound of the music slowly playing in the background was the only noise filling your sense. Well, that and the husky sound of your father's breathing. And his manly, leathery scent. His strong hands placed on your body, too.

You heard him clear his throat briefly and snapped to give him your attention, something you found yourself doing often. He liked when you listened to him quickly, made him feel respected.

"May I have this dance?" Leon asked, giving you a rare smirk when you nodded.

One of his hands stayed on your waist, while the other took your hand gently and clasped it in the air, leading you into a sweet waltz. With each step, he guided you with rigid, calculated movements. His movements were neat, as if he had been planning every moment of your shared dance.

The longer you danced with him, the closer your bodies pressed together, creating a faint friction between the two of you. In that moment, any negative emotion you had felt before faded away, leaving only the image of him in your mind.

Leon knew your signs. He'd spent a long time decoding them, and the look on your face was one he read easily. With a tilt of his head, he leaned in, a soft chuckle escaping his lips when he felt your increased heartbeat against his chest.

You made the first real move, pushing your tongue deeper into his mouth. Kisses were the only time he let you take on a dominant role. He thought it was cute, feeling your smaller tongue fuck into his mouth like you were in charge. Not wanting to spoil your fun, he softly guided you backwards to the wall, giving him a surface to work with.

"You're a bold one, I'll give you that," he said, breaking the kiss. "Can't ever actually ask for what you want, but you go wild once you get it, don't you?"

You hummed, letting him pull you up and wrap your legs around his waist. His hand slid under your dress and pushed it up, giving him a view of your panties.

"God, you're soaked. So wet f'me." Leon stuck his fingers in his mouth, slurping on them and covering them with spit before he forced them past the band of your underwear. Tight, quick circles were made around your clit, denying you of any time to think. "Nobody else can play with this, you hear me? This is all mine, you don' let anybody else have you," his voice was a warm whisper that fanned across your ear.

"I promise, 'm all yours. Don't want anyone else, only you, daddy," you swore desperately, meaning every word even if it sounded like you were just babbling on.

"Fuckin' slut." He spit a fat glob onto his fingers and spread it around your cunt, lubing you up. "Thought I raised a sweet girl. Bet you act like this for the boys at school too, huh?" Your panties were slid to the side.

His teeth clenched together jaggedly as he prodded the tip of his cock at you entrance, drawing in a deep breath when he pushed it fully in.

"No, never! I don't want any of them, just want you. They aren't good enough."

"Yeah? Greedy little cunt only wants her daddy, is that right?" The ego boost he was getting from this ran through him immediately. He wound your clit up with his thumb, quickly zigzagging on the little bud to match his thrusts. "Good. They don't deserve to feel you—"

You cunt fluttered around his length at his words, leaving him biting down on his lip.

"Just like that. Gonna make me cum if you keep that up, baby."

Your mouth hung open, pathetic mewls leaking from it. Each sound he drew out of you was nearly pornographic. He bullied your guts and hit deep, far deeper than your fingers ever could, and left you far more needy than your digits did.

"Inside this time?" You had wanted it so bad for the longest time, and instead he would pull out of you and coat your soft tummy or the fat of your ass with his ropes. "I need to feel it, please. I don't wanna be empty again, jus' fill me up," you slurred, drool spilling from the corner of your plush mouth.

"Yeah," he huffed, nodding along with you words, ready to finally jump at the opportunity, "yeah, inside. I need it too, baby, you have no idea. Daddy wants to spoil you real bad, he wants to give you all the babies you want."

Your lower body tensed, squeezing him tightly as the familiar rhythmic pattern of your orgasm set in. It felt so right in that moment, like your body was made for this exact purpose: being a warm hole for your dad to fill with his hot cum.

"Ready?" He said it more like a demand than a question, and within seconds he was creaming into you, still pounding your cunt like he hated you. "Take it, don't spill."

He kept his dick sheathed away inside of you, hoping that if he kept most of his cum in you, it would take. His brow was slick with sweat and his face was flushed. He had never looked so attractive before.

You ran your hand through his hair to get his attention. When he darted his eyes up to you, you mumbled something about wanting to go again.

"Anything for you baby. Night's still young, isn't it? We got time."