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animeyanderelover · 7 months ago

Note

This will be my first request, I am very happy because I LOVE your writing.

Alas aside, Yandere falls in love with a woman older than them who is very maternal for having a child, when he proposes she rejects him because she feels that they should not waste themselves on a woman who already has a child (You can do with the father whatever you want ).It would be with Atsushi, Akutagawa, Daichi Sawamura, Oikawa and if you want to add any more I don't mind

Sorry for my bad english😘😘

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, clinginess, manipulation, stalking, threats, violence

Tags: @shumidehiro @leveyani

You shouldn’t waste your time on me

Sawamura Daichi

🌅Cries of a small child are what guide him through the crowds on that day, his eyes flickering over the people before they finally land on the boy who is standing there all alone. Upon asking him what happened the child tells him that he got distracted and lost his mother. As not only a police officer but also a decent human being Daichi immediately helps, asks the boy where him and his mother were last together and if he knows where his mother planned to go. If worst comes to worst and he won't be able to find the boy's mother he'll just ask the boy where he lives and will bring hm home to wait together with him until his mom returns. Luckily it never comes that far as Daichi is able to find you after half an hour of searching, the boy instantly leaving his side and running to you with tears in his eyes. He's far too humble in your eyes as he is confronted with your gratefulness, tells you that he only did his job and that anyone would have helped a crying child. Still, you make some small talk with him as you ask for his name and both of you start talking for a while with each other. That's how he finds out that you recently moved to the Miyagi prefecture with your child and live close to his neighbourhood.

🌅The fact that he doesn't live far away from you and that he helped your child are major reasons that aid the two of you in getting so close to each other. Also, your son's dream is it to work for the police later on so he obviously views Daichi as his hero, something that flusters the man deep down a lot more than he shows. He visits you once a week when he has a free day, often bombarded with questions from your son about his job until you softly chide your child for his uncontrolled excitement. You admit to him relatively early that you moved here because your husband died and your parents live nearby as you also need to work and need someone to look after your son. Hearing that your husband died strangely enough makes more sense to him than if someone would have divorced you as only an ignorant fool would have let someone like you go. Daichi is not even going to deny his own feelings, he knows that he's extremely attracted to you. You're kind yet not too coddling, you're responsible and patient, you listen to the worries of others and are always willing to help where you can. Watching you raising your son sometimes reminds him of his high school days, a fond look on his face.

🌅Daichi is able to stay patient in spite of his obsession, especially if the loss of your husband has been very recent. He gives you time, he allows you to grieve and focuses in the meantime on helping you and your child to integrate into the new city. The thing is that he fills that role of a supportive husband and father so nicely that neighbours and even your own parents and son can't help but support the two of you getting together. When you reject him he is a bit disheartened but he takes it really well because he realises that you didn't do so because you do not love him. You reject him because you feel not good enough but that in itself is still quite hurtful. You're such a wonderful person after all. He doesn't mind the little age gap nor does he think of you less because you have a child. In fact he's grown very fond and protective of your son who you have raised wonderfully. Still, it's wiser to not pressure you so he steps back for now. His confidence remains though, knowing that you didn't deny not being able to see him as a partner. He'll just stay in your life as a pillar of support for now and will slowly make you realise that you are everything but a waste to him.

Oikawa Tooru

👑After a difficult divorce you make the decision to completely change your life and decide to try to reach for a dream you had when you were younger but gave up later on, deciding that you might not make it. It's better to try and fail then to never take the step. After many months of interviews, exchange of mails and documents you receive the news though. You did it. You're one of the managers for your favorite volleyball club, Club Athletico San Juan. You're so joyous, almost feel like a school girl all over again as you read the letter over and over again, kicking your feet and grinning like an idiot. Oikawa is still Oikawa even if he is by now an adult, his charming attitude still there as soon as you're introduced to the team as their new manager. His other teammates just watch with half amusement and half pity as Oikawa's charm ultimately never works. Sure, he manages to charm people quickly but he never manages to hold a relationship and they would hate for their setter and new manager to be on bad terms from the very start. You, with the divorce still freshly on your mind though, put your foot firmly down and clarify it to Oikawa very clearly that you have no intention of dating.

👑Obviously Tooru is miffed about your blunt rejection yet another part of him can't help but respect your determination. You know what you want to focus on and he wants to acknowledge that, especially since he is essentially the same. The keyword here is want because who would have thought that his feelings would slip out of his grasp of control so quickly? You know when to put him and his childish antics in his place, chiding him almost as if he were a child and the experience feels only more realistic when he realises that you're a few years older than he is. The fact that you work so closely with him only enables him to be very overbearing as he dreams up all kinds of minor inconveniences so that he has something to complain about to have your attention on himself. Your daughter is a shocker as you have never talked about your private life before and whilst other players gush over your child he gives her a strange look at first, his mind trying to process what it could mean. He pesters you privately about it, his eyes desperate and his body tense. The tension leaves his body at least partially when you admit with a heavy sigh that you had a rough divorce before you started working here.

👑Oikawa doesn't take the rejection very well, his heart dropping even though it doesn't have to do with the fact that you don't see him that way. Still, it is hard to stay logical with a heart as sensitive as his, especially since he is prone to being delusional. He just doesn't understand. What is it that he could have done better?? He has made it more than obvious that he is deeply in love with you. He's showered you in presents, constantly demands your attention and has even made the effort to get closer to your daughter despite initial caution he held. Is that still not enough?? What do you want him to do?? Please tell him what he as to do in order for you to accept. Honestly, your maternal instincts will come quite in handy as you're confronted with Tooru whilst his feelings threaten to burst out of him. Because it helps him to calm down and gives him the reassurance he so desperately craves from you in that moment. Nevertheless though, he ramps up his affection from a 10 to an 11 after that incident. If the problem is simply that you don't feel good enough he will change your mind. You're forgiven this one time. Do not reject him a second time though or else he might just make your job more difficult.

Nakajima Atsushi

🐅The gentle love of a parent is a notion so foreign to Atsushi that the first encounter he has with you leaves him almost on the edge. Your kind words, the patient look in your eyes, the warmth and comfort you provide him with by simply being in the room threatens to burst his heart right at the seams. After cold deprivation for as long as he can remember your presence feels like being drowned in a bathtub filled with hot water. It's overwhelming almost, scorches his skin yet he gladly submerges himself in the heat and the sensations that come with it. He's almost immediately infatuated with you, finds himself yearning for your affection in his dreams as well as in the real world. The age difference is something that weights on his soul though as he realises how experienced you are and how clumsy he seems to be in comparison. There's a lack of knowledge with certain machines or customs that he hasn't been exposed to due to his time in the orphanage but he is always too ashamed to tell you about it. Adamant to not let himself look like a young fool in front of you, Atsushi simply refuses to ask for help or advice from you. He wants to prove to you as well as himself that he can provide for you.

🐅As shameful as it is, there is an undeniable twinge of jealousy directed against your own child. He envies the little boy for being able to cling to you as often as he does as those are all things Atsushi desperately wishes to do as well. He wants to be held, comforted and loved by you too but he could never admit such things as he stares at your son. What would you think of him after all if he were to confess to you that he feels jealous of your own child? It doesn't stop him from clenching his hands into fists every time he witnesses you giving affection to your son, nails turning into claws as he imagines what it would be like if he were to be the one in your child's position. You and your husband have parted ways a few years ago but you still keep in contact due to the child and that just about kills Atsushi. It takes always more willpower than it should to not outright growl at the man whenever he visits. Atsushi can't even fathom how a man could let someone like you go and occasionally he imagines what it would be like to just tear that man apart whenever his jealousy gets the better of him. Chances aren't exactly zero for Atsushi to confront your ex-lover and accidentally kill him during an argument.

🐅The beast within him tries to tame itself as good as it can for you even if results are mixed. With time he grows closer to your child though he struggles to be a parent for the little boy as he more than once acts just as childish and needy. Still, he does his best to show you that he can protect and provide for you and your child all whilst seeking emotional comfort from you. It has taken him a good chunk of courage to finally confess to you only to be met with a direct blow to his heart. The shock of your rejection numbs him for a few seconds before the weight comes crushing down. He hyperventilates, he cries, he bites his bottom lip bloody and his nails threaten to rip through the skin of his palms. That is only because he does misunderstand your rejection as you telling him that you have no interest in him. Once he has come to understand that you didn't reject him for that reason hopefully he manages to calm down at least a bit. That means that he still has a chance, doesn't he? Still, he feels like it's his fault for not having made it clearer to you just how deeply infatuated he is with you. That has to change now. Hopefully some of his seniors can give him useful tips how to woo you.

Akutagawa Ryunosuke

⬛It is through Gin that Akutagawa finds out about you as his beneath the mask quite shy sister has befriended you and finds herself visiting your small shop once a week. Whilst he is anything but an overbearing brother this piece of information still manages to stick to him. It's the first time he has heard that Gin has made friends with someone outside the Mafia and initially he starts directing hostility against you. Akutagawa isn't an individual to trust easily as he distrusts with far more confidence and this is what he finds himself doing against you. Who are you? Are you really just a regular citizen? His sister assures him that you are not some spy nor does she plan to give you any information about the Port Mafia or her real identity but for Akutagawa actions speak louder than words. He finds himself stalking you occasionally, dark eyes trailing after you. A scoff appears on his face the moment he notices the boy following you, realising that you have a child. How naive you must be, keeping a child whilst involving yourself with a mafioso. If you really are just a normal person you must have no motherly senses at all or else you wouldn't hang out casually with Gin.

⬛Akutagawa never had a mother who raised him as he has grown up in a violent environment from a very young ago. None of his mentor figures have ever given him even an ounce of affection which has led him to believe that love is a weakness. A weakness he has fallen victim to. A part of him itches to use Rashomon to tear you and that little brat apart yet he holds himself back. Partially because his emotions are messy and partially for his sister's sake as she cherishes you. It's Gin he turns to as his curiosity grows and it is through her he finds out most information about you. The most pressing issue for him is who the father of your son is and even if Gin tells him that you have parted with the guy long before your child was born that doesn't stop Akutagawa's urges to rip that man apart for his mere existence. Stalking you becomes quite difficult, his possessive side flaring up the moment you talk to another man and give him a smile. It's the horrified gaze of his sister that holds him back but that is no guarantee that it'll work every single time. Only to his sister is he able to admit his conflicting feelings to you and both of them know that it is only a question of time when you will find out.

⬛Still, even if it comes that far Gin wishes for her brother to not terrorise and hurt you even with his obsession. She cares for Akutagawa but you're still her friend and she likes your child as well. She wants him to attempt to confess to you the normal way at least once and if you reject him she kind of knows that there's little she can do. Unable to live with herself if she wouldn't try though Gin introduces her brother to you who finds himself incredibly awkward as he is completely out of his comfort zone, easily irritated and with little patience, especially when your son is around. Big chance that Gin is lurking around in the distance when Akutagawa tries confessing, already looking like he is glaring at you. He honestly only knows what to do in case you reject him because you don't like him which is instantly doing what he can do best. Inflicting fear upon you whilst using Rashomon. He isn't prepared for you rejecting him because you think he shouldn't bother with you and is left so perplexed with that answer that he just stares at you for a good while. Ultimately this only delays the abduction though because it'll still happen. He's promised Gin to not harm your son though.

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dollishmehrayan · 7 months ago

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DAMIAN WAYNE HCS WITH A MIXED RACE S/O ── .✦

a/n: this was a request by a wonderful anon tysm (here) and omg tysm I love requests like these and I want to make different hcs series like these for them and how cool it would be like “Japanese s/o x batboys” or smth yk?

(Tags: damian wayne x east asian and european mixed!Reader)

CULTURAL INTEREST ── .✦

Damian would be deeply curious about your cultural background, eager to learn about traditions, history, and languages. Expect him to ask thoughtful questions and immerse himself in understanding your mixed heritage.

He insists on trying to learn the language(s) spoken in your family and, of course, perfects pronunciation with his usual perfectionist streak.

“You said it wrong, Damian.”

“No, I didn’t. Your dialect is just different.”

He reads up on your culture’s history with the same intensity he uses to study combat techniques. He doesn’t just skim—he knows everything.

“Did you know that in (any historical period)…”, “Yes, Damian, I know.”

FOOD ADVENTURES ── .✦

He becomes obsessed with authentic cuisine. He’ll try to make it himself, often with varying results:

“This isn’t supposed to taste like charcoal…”

“Maybe because you slightly burnt it?”

He’ll accompany you to markets, sampling street food with serious fascination, though he keeps a stoic expression even if something surprises him.

“It’s good.”

“You’re sweating.”

“…It’s just warm.”

If your family cooks traditional meals, Damian will be politely intense about helping in the kitchen, wanting to learn everything. Expect him to get bossed around by your relatives, which humbles him in the best way.

PROTECTIVE IN A SUBTLE WAY ── .✦

He’s always been protective, but with you, it’s different. He knows how important family and culture are, so he’s especially careful about making sure no one disrespects you or your heritage.

“If anyone makes an ignorant comment, tell me.” He says it with calm menace, but you know he means it.

He admires the balance you strike between cultures and often finds it inspiring. He quietly considers it a strength and respects how you carry yourself in both worlds.

“You make it seem effortless.” He’ll say this when he thinks you aren’t listening.

TRADITIONAL DRESS LOVER ── .✦

Damian adores seeing you in traditional attire from both cultures. He’s quietly mesmerized but would never be too obvious about it, despite he himself being arab Chinese he definitely feels connected to you being a mixed race.

“You look beautiful.” He’ll say it under his breath, but you can see his ears turning red.

If there are festivals or cultural events, he’ll dress the part, too, wearing traditional clothes with pride, looking stoic but secretly enjoying the attention he gets standing next to you.

RESPECT FOR ELDERS ── .✦

He knows the importance of respecting elders, and while he can be standoffish, he’s surprisingly polite to your family. He’ll even tolerate the cheek-pinching and blunt questions.

“Are you feeding him enough?” one aunt asks.

“I am fully capable of feeding myself, thank you.” (He then looks to you for help.)

Your relatives might joke about how serious he is, but they appreciate how much he cares for you. He’ll earn their approval through quiet acts of service—like helping clean up or taking care of you when you’re tired.

GIFTS WITH CULTURAL MEANINGS ── .✦

Damian gives gifts that have cultural significance. He’ll research deeply before buying anything, ensuring it’s meaningful and respectful.

“I read that this symbolizes prosperity. I thought it fitting.” He says it like it’s no big deal, but you know he spent hours researching.

He memorizes proverbs or sayings from your culture and sometimes quotes them out of nowhere. It’s both impressive and endearing.

(In your language) “As the proverb goes, ‘Patience is a bitter plant, but it bears sweet fruit.’”

“Did you just… quote that to me in perfect [language]?”

“I did.”

TEA AND LATE NIGHT TALKS ── .✦

He becomes a tea connoisseur if your family drinks tea regularly, perfecting the brewing method until it rivals even your grandmother’s.

He’ll sit with you during late-night talks, pouring tea and sharing quiet moments, appreciating the calmness you bring to his otherwise intense life.

“You make everything seem quieter,” he admits one night, watching steam rise from the cup.

SUBTLE ACTS OF LOVE ── .✦

Damian isn’t overly affectionate in public, but in private, he’ll hold your hand and rest his head on your shoulder when he’s tired.

“Just for a moment,” he’ll mumble, eyes half-closed.

He appreciates the balance you bring into his life and constantly falls deeper in love with the way you combine grace, strength, and compassion.

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silkscream · 2 years ago

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HEAVEN SURROUNDS US

ੈ✩ summary: gojo likes that you make him feel human. admittedly, he also likes that sometimes, you make him feel like a god. ੈ✩ warnings: smut (18+), fingering, unprotected sex, slight dacryphilia, begging, soft dom!gojo, kind of mean gojo lol, workplace relations, reader can see curses but that's it, gojo has a god complex, dirty talk, not proofread bc i do not give a fuck ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k ੈ✩ a/n: i am having intense gojo brainrot. i was thinking about 'i'm your man' by mitski the entire time i was writing this btw. ALSO I LITERALLY HAD A GRAPHIC AND DIVIDERS FOR THIS BUT EVERY TIME I INCLUDE THEM this shit doesn't show up in the tags. i've given up!

Gojo Satoru has the smell of death burned into his senses to the point of complete apathy. He’s sure that Shoko feels similarly, though as a healer and a doctor, she’s often only met with the aftermath – the quiet decaying, the dried blood.

Gojo has encountered it all. The stench, the last pleas for salvation, the battered and torn-apart limbs. Even when the dying beings are cursed spirits suffering from the carnage created beneath Gojo’s hands, sometimes he wonders if an angel is nearby that weeps for them.

He has held grief inside his core to use as a weapon ever since he lost Geto. Nothing fazes him anymore. After the tragedies of his late teens, Gojo chooses to devote himself to his students rather than ruminating in sanctimonious thought loops. Gojo Satoru knows he isn’t a god, but sometimes, when he levitates in the sky with blood on his hands, he certainly feels like one. It’s safe to say that he may be the closest thing to one in the world of Jujutsu sorcery. It’s nothing that he despises – he’s known since his powers took shape in the awkwardness of his child-body.

Gojo likes to think he isn’t as cruel and indifferent as a god should be because of how protective he is. The warmth he’s had in his heart for Megumi alone confirms this as such, and now for Yuuji. Despite toying with the idea of divinity, he likes to remember that he’s human.

You are the only thing that reminds him of this.

Ever since Gojo had laid his eyes on you, he figured you were a delicate thing. He’s not completely wrong – although you can see curses, you lack any techniques. After becoming an assistant at Jujutsu Tech, he had taken more than a liking to you, more than he would be willing to admit to anyone else. He also never thought that the girl who was so quick to sardonic banter with him would be so vulnerable.

When you’re underneath him, maybe he does consider himself a god, just for a second. And then he feels the silky touch of your skin and he can’t help but wish for a life of mundanity with you until the earth stops spinning.

He likes that he can feel how fast your heart is beating. He likes that you become so pliant just from having his hand on your thigh.

It’s not like he exploits the little affair you have. It’s not that he wants to exploit you either, but the power trip that surges through him when you preen to his touch feels better than winning any battle. It’s those big eyes of yours. It’s a miracle you had reciprocated your attraction to him – he doesn’t know what he’d do to any other man who happened to pursue you. The thought of that kind of violence doesn’t make him feel any guilt. He’d do it in a heartbeat if it meant that he could have you forever, unconditionally.

Within the few months you’ve been working at Jujutsu Tech, you learn a few things about Gojo Satoru. He has an incredible sweet tooth. He cares about his students. He likes the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair. Lives for it, even, but he could never tell you that.

That’s how you ended up here, you suppose. Writhing and wet and oh so obedient for him.

You like that a man that is worshipped by all enjoys worshipping you.

“Satoru,” you whisper. The sound of your voice makes him fucking melt.

God, it’s so much worse when you beg. Satoru wants to be gentle with you, careful, because he knows that if all of his morals were thrown out the window, he would devour you completely, leaving bruises in your wake. But he waits, titillatingly, smirking as his long fingers grasp the flesh above your hips.

“Please,” you whine. Your lower half bucks up into him, squirming just a little, but he grounds you with his large hands once again.

Satoru knows better than to toy with his prey, but the flush on your cheeks is so fucking cute that he wonders what you would look like with tears rolling down the soft blush of your skin.

“Be patient, baby,” he rasps. “Just like lookin’ at you.”

“You look at me all day.”

“Someone’s got quite the attitude.”

You’re about to protest until you feel his knuckle brush against the peak of your clit, teasingly. A nasty grin spreads across his face as he grazes his fingertips along your slit, marveling at how wet you are when he’d barely touched you.

“So pretty for me,” he muses, mostly to himself.

“Should see how pretty I am when you’re inside me.”

Satoru scoffs. Despite being so human, you have quite the mouth, so much confidence in the way you move and speak that he often forgets how easy it would be to lose you. To break you. Though, of course, that privilege is for him and him only.

He kisses you to shut you up, but not nearly for long enough. You can’t even get your tongue inside his mouth. You whine pitifully as he pulls back.

“Poor baby,” he coos. “So on edge today. What’s got you so desperate like this, huh?”

“Just want you,” your voice is meek, which is an anomaly. The honey-sweet cadence of your words is barely above a whisper.

“You have me.” Unbeknownst to you, you always will, whether you tire of him or not.

He makes his point by circling the pad of his thumb to your clit while his other hand claws at your chest underneath your dress shirt. The sound of your gasp has him reeling already, has his cock rock-hard in his slacks.

“More,” you whimper. “S-Satoru, please.”

You’re surprised when you feel the palm of his hand over your mouth. You whine against his hand, soft gasps dissipating underneath his touch as your eyes roll back. You feel two fingers enter your sopping cunt and it renders you brainless, docile just how he likes you.

The rhythmic ministrations of his fingers touch upon the spot inside your core that makes your legs shake. You like being smothered by him despite your personality. You don’t even have to tell him – he knows already, he’s known ever since he noticed your reactions to him touching you casually during the working day.

The more you crave his touch, the more you become dependent on him, even when you don’t realize it. You always pride yourself on being an independent soul, refusing his insistence to pay for your meals, the way you express to him quietly that you want to be able to fight back one day. You could perfect a certain violence in between your fingers just like he can if you put your mind to it. But you have too much dignity to request his guidance as a mentor or teacher.

He thinks about it now as he touches you. The idea of him training you to use cursed techniques. The idea of him making you in his image, shaping you like he had created you himself.

If anyone truly knew the extent of how you are the object of Satoru’s affection, of his obsession, one would render him pathetic. But he knows he’s too powerful. He knows it’s easy to make you seem like the pathetic one. You’re already begging for his cock, after all.

“I‘m gonna… I’m–”

There’s a squelching sound when he retracts. His fingers are wet with your slick and you’re on the verge of tears when you feel the loss. You’re already falling apart without his touch. It doesn’t help when you watch him lick your wetness off of his own fingers.

“Why are you being so mean to me today?”

“‘m not,” Satoru purrs, licking a stripe from your collarbone to your earlobe. You try to kiss him since his face is so close to yours, but again, he restricts you. His long, slender fingers squeeze the base of your neck. “I could be a lot meaner to you, y’know. You’re lucky. This is mild compared to what I’ve thought about doing to you.”

“Wanna cum,” you whisper. You don’t even realize that there are tears falling because you’re too focused on Satoru. It isn’t fair, the way he’s toying with you. The moment he relinquishes his grip, just barely, you reach over to palm his cheek. He lets you pull the blindfold from his eyes.

“Dunno if I can let you. You’re being so greedy. Such a selfish fucking girl.” He pinches your nipple as he says it. His voice is smooth, dripping like honey, dulcet in the way his words manage to make your eyelashes flutter despite how filthy the subject matter is. He’d ruin you if he could. Perhaps, he’d ruined you the moment he touched you.

He’s touching your clit again, but not rhythmically. You feel a sense of loss every few seconds. He’s fucking teasing you now, but you’re smart enough to not snap at him despite how much you want to.

So you say his name instead. Like a hymn or a prayer. Like it’s the sweetest thing to come from your tongue. From the way your voice sounds, Satoru is convinced that his own name is a blessing just because it comes from your lips. He can’t get enough of it.

You make Satoru feel human, but the way you react to him at the moment makes him want to pretend he’s a god.

“S-Sat–Satoru. Oh.”

“You cryin’ already, baby? Thought you liked it when I played with you.”

His voice is low, raspy. Almost cruel.

Your brain is so foggy that it feels like he’s been doing this to you for hours. You can’t even form words, can’t bitch to him or dominate him the way you often attempt to. There’s a secret part of you, deep inside, that is unlocked by the way Satoru handles you. As much as he loves control, he still doesn’t know the extent of what you would let him do to you. How you wished he’d wrap a silk ribbon around your neck and collar you like a puppy. How you think you would do anything for him if he asked.

You don’t even know that he would do the exact same for you.

Now, you’re at your peak again. Your legs are wobbly, senses so heightened by the way he plays with your pussy that it takes you a few moments to notice that his cock is prodding against you, bare and pink and fucking leaking.

Maybe if you tell him you’re close, he’ll stop. You can’t stand the thought of it. So, naturally, you cry instead, and the sight makes him want to keep you for as long as he’s alive. Satoru would make sure nothing slights you, and that nothing out of his control could possibly vex you. This desire usually scares him. At the moment, it doesn’t. At the moment, he feels drunk with it.

He knows when you cum because he has you memorized. It’s a little death, truly, because when your legs tremble and your moans fade into a sharp gasp, Satoru knows for sure that your brain has turned to mush. Your body melts against his. Maybe you’d melt right into his mattress if he didn’t have more energy to play with you.

Gojo Satoru does not believe in a higher power, but he thinks that if one existed, one that was more powerful than him, he would thank them. He would thank them for you, the creation of you, the very essence of you living and breathing in the same wretched world as him. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, you were made just for him.

You recover in a succession of exhales. Blinking rapidly through blurry vision as you feel Satoru’s face nuzzling your neck, almost too domestic and sweet to bear. You had never thought of anything serious with him because of his reputation, but every time he has you like this, underneath him, you often wish that he would reassure you that he wants to keep you.

And he does. He is devoted to you in a way that feels holy. He just doesn’t know how to tell you that. Satoru hopes you can figure it out just from the way he touches you.

And maybe, like him, you’re just above human. An angel, he thinks. A set of wings would suit you.

“I– I– please–” you strain. You feel embarrassed from the tears, but Satoru cherishes you. He kisses and licks them right off your face.

“I know, baby. I won’t make you beg any more than you have,” he sneers.

You’re fucking doe-eyed, angelic when he enters you. Just the tip, for now, just so he can see how you react. It isn’t the first time but you are certainly acting the part from the way your whole face screws up. Your perfect mouth parts and he touches your bottom lip with his thumb.

You whimper like a wounded thing. Like you should be begging for mercy. He hasn’t dipped too far into his God-complex yet to coax that reaction for you.

And without a warning, he pushes himself into you completely, bottoming out. He groans at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. So warm. So fucking wet.

“Fucked you enough to mold the shape of your pussy to my cock, huh? Feels so fucking– fuck,” he exhales, rutting into you with eyes shut.

You whine his name, clutching at him, scraping your nails across his pale back. He loves the way you need him. He wouldn’t trade the feeling for anything else in the world.

Made for me. God made you for me.

You slur your words against his neck and his chest as he thrusts into you – cries of his name, of begging for more, of your usual expletives. He grins like a predator. He bends you in half and thinks briefly about breaking your limbs for the sake of his pleasure. (He doesn’t. You’re too delicate, too human.)

In reality, you’re sarcastic and sometimes brash. When Satoru has you writhing underneath him, you’re a little more shy. He wants to tease the desire from you, whatever filth that permeates in your brain.

“Tell me what you want.��

“Want– I want– aah!”

“Feels so good for you, I know. Use your words for me. I know you can,” Satoru taunts.

“Want you to make me cum on your cock. Please,” you beg. “Need it deeper, ‘Toru. Need you.”

“Need me, don’t you? Say it again so I can hear it.”

“Nngh– Need– Fuck, I can’t–”

He slows the speed of his thrusts and rubs the length of your jaw softly with his palm. His other hand rubs your clit gently, making your body spasm. He tucks the hair sticking to your forehead behind your ear so he can see all of you. You and your swollen mouth and glassy eyes.

“Don’t do that,” you whine.

“Do what, baby?”

“Teasing me like this. Wan’ it rough.”

“What else?” he breathes into your neck, palming your breast as he thrusts into you deeper.

“Want everything. Want it to hurt.”

And with that, he gives it to you. He gives you all of it.

You drape your arms around his body so that you’re closer than ever, both of your bodies ready to mesh into one if they could. Satoru pushes your legs up, knees bent and ankles near your ears, and he basks in the sound of your pathetic mewls.

“Such a good… fucking girl,” he groans. “‘m so close.”

“Me too,” you reply in a hushed tone. “Right– right there.”

Satoru has fucked you plenty of times. He’s called you a slut, a greedy whore – but he can’t bring himself to degrade you like that even though he knows you like it. You’re splayed out for him, limbs limp and grateful for his embrace. You’re too fucking precious for him.

You’re too dazed to think about the moral implications of your affair. It's a miracle you can't enter his mind so deeply when you're fucked out like this. Where his thoughts flash from lecherous to monstrous, yours are rendered sluggish. There’s almost nothing in your brain, save for him and his blue eyes and the feeling of his cock. It consumes the best of you. You welcome it with open arms.

Another kiss. It’s mostly Satoru working his tongue into your mouth and you dissolving under his tongue. He tastes so sweet, so fresh all the time. His lips are so fucking soft it drives you insane.

“Pleasemakemecum,” you cry out in a jagged mumble. “Please. Need it so bad. Please!”

He groans in response. You’re begging more than usual. You are frantic and desperate and welcoming his hand to shape you in his image.

The way he grinds into your cunt becomes more aggressive, which is easy for him. There’s no resistance – your pussy is so fucking wet for him in that way. The cloying heat in his pelvis spreads to the rest of his body, warmth enveloping him like hot water in a bath.

You whine his name again and it dissipates into his mouth.

“Cum with me, fuck, I can feel you–” he moans. Both of you reach your peak in the way he grasps your body, calloused hands worshipping the length of your waist until his fingertips bruise your thighs.

His hips stutter as he indulges in his pleasure. In the sound of your hushed whimpers. In the way your nails claw across his back.

Both of your labored breaths fill the silence. Even in the dark, you admire the brightness of his blue eyes. They could replace the divinity of the stars themselves, you muse.

Both of you are hazy, intoxicated on the touch of each others’ skin. You shiver in your skin. You’re only soothed when he buries his face into your neck, long limbs splayed over your smaller frame.

“I should fuckin’ marry you,” he breathes into your skin.

“What was that?” you raise a brow.

He clears his throat. Despite the daze, he’s able to give you one of his signature cocky grins. Something flashes in his blue eyes, you think.

“I think I wanna keep you.”

If he was god, you were his seraphim, he’s decided. He almost tells this to you, out loud, because your big eyes drink him in. He knows better.

“You have me,” you reply softly, echoing him from earlier in the night. The way he smiles reminds you of the sun.

Gojo Satoru knows it’s an affirmation from you, maybe even pillow talk. But he knows that sentiment to be truer than anything he’s ever known. He is yours and you are his.

For now, you don’t know the half of it. Maybe someday you will.

#gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jjk #ree.writing

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pocketsizedquasar-3 · 4 months ago

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[ID: 6 panels of a digitally drawn comic showing Daggoo doing twist-outs into Pip’s hair. Pip looks a little nervous through the process, with a warm & encouraging Daggoo, and by the end of it he looks at his reflection with surprised joy. More detailed IDs for each panel in alt.]

i finally finished what i was working on for @creatingblackcharacters’ Black History Month Challenge!

so for those who don’t know, for a few years now i’ve been working on adapting Moby Dick into a webcomic. as you might imagine, a text written by a white man in 1851 is oftentimes Very Racist with how it treats its characters of color, and this very much includes its Black characters, of which there are two of note in the cast, Daggoo and Pip. there are parts of the original text in which Melville tries (and even sometimes doesn’t completely fail) to say poignant things or critiques about racism in the text (and much of the text does very explicitly and intentionally deal w/ racism and racialized dynamics, something literally 99% of adaptations ignore), but for the most part, his nonwhite characters are flat, stereotypical, often violent, racist caricatures.

and i won’t get too much into that here (god knows i’ve rambled at LENGTH abt all of this many times & i will many more), because the point of this challenge is to share art about Black joy, but suffice to say that! I am doing my best to intentionally engage with the race & racism of the original text, whether it’s for characters of my own racial identity that Melville bastardizes (like Fedallah), or those of others (like his Black characters, Daggoo and Pip, and his Indigenous characters, and so on). It’s important to me not only to be in conversation with and to challenge Melville’s racism in my work, but also to allow these characters to be more than the one note racist stereotypes Melville writes them as.

So!!! that’s some long winded context, but here’s Daggoo doing Pip’s hair for him and showing him how! I’m extremely fond of Pip getting to be loved and cared for by others of the crew, especially the harpooners (of whom Dag is one). i just think Pip deserves his comically large number of dads who will care for him and make him feel safe and shelter him from the absolute Horror that is 19th century American Whaling (and the Horror that is their white crewmates!). i just think this little Black boy deserves love and joy 😭😭 and i think Daggoo deserves to be a soft, gentle caregiver who can give that to him.

I have lots more thoughts about this and about them and about their hair which i may expand on under a cut or in the tags, but because this is already getting so long!:

to my Black viewers, and my Black readers, you belong in classic literature spaces! you deserve to see yourselves represented thoughtfully and carefully in the ‘canon’ of literature, and to challenge when you aren’t, and be supported in your critiques! your contributions to both literature as a whole (whether “classic” or otherwise) and to literary analysis and critique are invaluable and irreplaceable, both when you discuss the racism in these works and spaces and when you engage in any other kind of analysis or creation. And I want you to be able to enjoy stories of all kinds without people brushing aside your existence or pretending your concerns are invalid or don’t matter because ~it’s a great classic!~ or ~it was a different time.~ your voices and your creations and your art matter.

& on the smallest scale, i hope at least to bring you a little bit of joy.

I'm tagging some of my art friends! I know the lateness of this in the month means it’ll be hard for anyone to probably do anything of their own for the challenge, but hopefully y’all can still check out & support all the lovely art that’s already been made for this!! @coulson-is-an-avenger @fricklefracklefloof @layalu @brainwormterrarium @seaflying-fliptuna @rootscorrode @holocephal1 and anyone else who wants to!!

& thank you to Ice for making this wonderful challenge, and thank you for all the lovely, incredible work you do on @creatingblackcharacters. truly a blessing to this world 💖💖

anyway, some more notes, because i can’t help rambling:

i referenced a lot of images & videos of people doing twist outs for this but i wanna shout out the video i watched and rewatched and paused and zoomed in on the Most; it’s by kbmaria on YouTube and called “Twist Out on Short TWA 4C Hair | Big Chop Hairstyles”!! def go check her out :]

i loved looking up 1800s hair combs (and afro picks, though it seems they were all just called ‘combs’) & 1800s sleep bonnets for this! the details of the bonnets kind of got lost in simplification (they really do just look like modern ones but with more lace!) but drawing them and the comb was still fun. i also was looking up specifically a lot of Black hair care history and there is some really cool stuff about the original invention and spread of the hot comb (used for straightening hair) and Black people’s role in that (there’s again more i could get into but i won’t right now but do look it up if you’re interested! the library of congress has a good presentation article with sources about Black hair care history. much of it is later the timeline that’s relevant to these characters in particular, but still very interesting!)

i always defaulted to giving Daggoo an Afro when i designed him (mainly because he’s described with one in the book). over recent years, i’ve definitely thought more about this decision and about whether/how to incorporate different hairstyles into representing him. whaling is a…unique situation—long, long stretches of time (we’re talking months) of extreme lethargy with no tasks to do punctuated by unpredictable short bursts (days to weeks at a time) of incredibly high intensity, life threatening, and laborious work. it leaves lots of time to do more complicated, time-intensive hairstyles (which his hair definitely could benefit from in an environment where he’s getting very sweaty, sea-salty, and wet frequently!), but any of that time could be interrupted at any moment; it’s impossible to Plan for when the whale hunts happen and put your hair in a more protective style ahead of time. i don’t really have a specific answer to this yet, but it’s smthn i’m thinking about a lot and researching a lot! visual historical references we have (that i’ve seen at least) of Black sailors of this time tend to have their hair natural and short-cropped (which is how Pip keeps his), but i def want to draw more hairstyles on Dag at different points.

in any case, i do love the idea of him doing Pip’s hair for him (even if the style will be Very temporary due to the nature of their work — he’ll probably get wet very soon 😔) and showing him how to do different ones. starting with something maybe a little easier to do (like this twist out) and maybe showing more complex ones as time goes on.

as far as hair moisturizers go, ive also done a good amount of reading over the years of what kinds of hair moisturizers were available at diff time periods (did you know lots of victorian women used egg washes in their hair to keep it moisturized? i didn’t). i like to think that Dag keeps his own personal stash of natural oil of some kind — he may have access to coconut oil/cedarwood oil/smthn like that. and if he’s ever in a pinch, apparently whale oil is a fine hair moisturizer! and was even used in cosmetics in the 20th century! so hey. got plenty of that around lmao

i think that’s all i have to say for now lmao. thank you again Ice for making this challenge 💖💖

#cbc bhm challenge #black history month #daggoo #pip #mobydick #moby dick #herman melville #melville #art #my art #quasartalks #anwyay in case the me rambling for 482948293 years wasn’t clear: i care themmmm 😭 theyre so dear to me

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redfoxwritesstuff · 1 year ago

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A Bed Of Electric Flowers (18+ Vox x Reader)

Vox x Reader Rated: Adult Content: Established long term relationship, Sex pollen trope, sex toy use, female masterbation, Vox's glowstick dick, way too many tv details, Male receiving oral, cowgirl, vox blue screens, missionary.

Summary: A unexpected floral arrangement is delivered to your door as you're trying to ignore the lingering absence of your flat faced boyfriend. When Vox returns home and finds you in a compromising position, he's eager to assist even without a clue as to what has you so worked up.

AN- Header done in part by the wonderful, amazing, fantastical @redvexillum (I could cry it looks so good- that’s a lie, I *am* crying)

Join Us at VoxTek today! A discord server dedicated to Vox and the rest of the Hazbin crew.

The ringing of your doorbell startled you out of the tv trance you had been in for the last few hours. Vox was working late, as was typical, and you deserved to have a couch potato night with popcorn, trash tv and, comfortable pajamas that you may or may not have stolen from your boyfriend’s drawer.

“Delivery,” A voice called from the intercom at the door.

As was building policy, the delivery person left the item on the table by the door as soon as you acknowledged them and left. You were not expecting any deliveries at the moment but it wasn’t uncommon in the slightest for you boyfriend to send gifts and trinkets on a whim.

At times it felt like he was trying to buy your affections. You knew that simply was just how Vox was. It didn’t help that in the past he had had partners who had to be bought to forgive his long work hours and dedication to maintaining his position, both in life and in death.

You didn’t need gifts and jewelry but that didn’t stop him from getting them for you.

What you needed was his time and fortunately, that was more often than not what he had in short supply. Vox worked hard and he worked a lot. That left you alone a lot of the time. You loved him though and because of that love, you were committed to making it work.

Opening the door, you found a vase full of the most beautiful blue and purple flowers you had ever seen. The arrangement contained some you knew from life, some you had only seen in death and some you’d never seen before at all. It was clearly an expensive arrangement, flowers from up top came with price tags few in the Pride ring could afford.

The simple gesture warmed your heart and made you smile, though it wasn’t needed. No matter how many times you told him though, the gestures would never stop.

You had always loved flowers and while Vox thought it was silly since they would just wilt and die, it wasn’t uncommon for him to indulge you when he’s realized he had been away for longer than you liked.

You hummed as you carried them inside, setting the vase on your nightstand after clicking the TV off. It was getting late and it was clear Vox wasn’t going to come by again tonight if he sent flowers. May as well get your beauty sleep, right?

You ran your hand along the back of your neck as you brushed your teeth, wiping the sweat away. The weather in Hell was predictably hot and sometimes the AC couldn’t keep up, even in Vox tower. It seemed like tonight was going to be one of those nights.

After a look to the comfortable embrace of your bed, you turned on the shower. The cooling sheets would help but lowering your body temperature first would help you get off to sleep even more.

Slipping out of the old fashioned button down shirt and loose shorts, you stepped into the shower. The water was warm but not hot as it ran down your back and soaked through your hair. It felt nice. Really nice.

If you closed your eyes, it almost felt like Vox’s hands running over your body instead of the water. Your mind ran away with that thought. Soon you were standing in the water, imagining the feeling of his firm hands running along your curves. If you tried hard enough, you could feel the way his screen would warm the back of your neck.

The shower wasn’t helping cool you don’t in the slightest.

With a sight, you shut off the water and reached for a towel. There was no one in your apartment to hand it to you, to make some thirsty comment about how good you looked wet.

You decided you were just lonely.

That was why you were restless. That was why you were hot all over. It had been two weeks since you had seen Vox and even longer since the two of you had last had sex. It wasn’t for the lack of attraction or desire, you were just at that comfortable stage of a relationship where when you’re tired and busy, quality time was more important.

You were just tired, lonely and horny. That’s all.

You wiggled your until your slightly damp arms made their way into into Vox’s button up sleep shirt. Every time you slipped into one of his shirts, it made you smile. It always reminded you of the way he would complain about how he missed the ease of a pull over shirt. All his tshirts had wide necks, comically so to accommodate his head.

It smelled clean, laundry fresh and not like his cologne. The only thing in your apartment that smelled like him was his pillow on your bed. The smell was fading on that too. He had been gone far too long, once again. But that wasn’t new. It was the same old routine, just getting longer each time he was away.

He was gone more often than he was there even though he had claimed to have all but moved in. You told yourself that you were okay with it. He worked a lot, often sleeping in his office for a little bit here or there instead of coming home.

Self pleasure wasn’t something you had particularly enjoyed but desperate times called for desperate measures. You were restless and heat settled into your core that simply wasn’t disappearing. Falling face first onto your bed, you let out a sigh.

“Vox,” You whined as you rolled onto your back, “I miss you.”

Silence answered your confession. He didn’t zap into the space with a loud, “Hey, hey, hey!” He didn’t didn’t even walk through the front door. He didn’t come home. Not that you expected him too.

Alone, again.

Your hand snaked down your body, slipping into the pair of Vox’s shorts you wore. May as well indulge, you decided. You were so horny and it’s not like Vox was there to take care of you.

As you caressed your clit, you thought about texting Vox. If you called him, would he come? Or was he in a meeting? With a sigh you decided it didn’t matter. You were so horny but you could take care of yourself. It wasn’t worth interrupting his work.

Your flinger ran lower, gathering slick from your opening to pull up to your clit. You were far more sensitive than you expected, gasping at each teasing pass of your fingers over the bundle of nerves. Normally you wouldn’t be so wet, so sensitive without something or someone to get you going.

Your finger slipped inside you easily. You were so wet and though you knew what you liked and how you liked it, you struggled to bring yourself close to your orgasm. Each caress left you gasping for breath and yet all it did was make you want more.

A second finger slipped inside as you palmed your clit, trying to find that place inside you that Vox was so good at hitting. It was no use.

Minutes ticked by as you were left panting and writhing under your own touch as nothing seemed to be good enough.

With a groan, you pulled your fingers out from your core, smearing slick up your mound as your hand went to rest on your lower abdomen. You were so horny, it wasn’t fair. You shouldn’t be so horny.

In the back of your mind, you knew something was wrong.

Reaching into your nightstand you grabbed the small box inside. Within the box was the long smooth vibrator and the perfectly average dildo you’d had for longer than you cared to admit. It didn’t get much use and wasn’t worth upgrading.

The reality was, you hadn’t had much need for them after you had fell into a relationship with Vox. Before Vox, you simply had your old trusty tools to get yourself off quickly and move on with your nights.

As the vibrator came to life with the press of a button, you slipped the length easily into your sopping hole. The vibrations had your back arching as they moved through your insides. You moaned as you thrust it in and out slowly, ensuring it was coated with your slick before letting it run up to your clit.

Again you tried to bring yourself to orgasm and yet all you managed to accomplish was working yourself up even more, making yourself more desperate as you clenched around nothing. You rarely had to go through this much effort to satisfy yourself and yet you still couldn’t get there.

“Fuck,” you whined, grabbing the dildo and running the soft plastic along your slit to coat it with your slick.

You were so wet and so sensitive and yet nothing was enough. The dildo filled you, slipping inside with the ease of a good fit. It didn’t stretch you or fill you the way Vox did but it felt good enough to have something to clench around.

Working it in and out, you moaned. It wasn’t enough. You added the vibrator to your clit, holding it in place as you worked yourself over with the dildo. It still wasn’t enough.

Rolling onto your stomach, you pulled your knees under your chest as you tried to fuck the dildo into you the way Vox would when he took you from behind. Closing your eyes, you tried to pretend it was Vox fucking you but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough.

“Vox,” You whimpered, imagining his hands on your hips. When you couldn’t will the dildo inside you into being Vox’s, you tried to imagine it was his hands holding the vibrator against your sensitive clit. You tried to tell yourself it was his hands working the dildo in and out of your weeping hole.

It didn’t stretch you the way Vox did. It didn’t fill you the way vox did. It didn’t call your name the way Vox did.

“Please, Vox.” You whimpered, eyes closed as you tried so hard to bring yourself to the peak that still eluded you. Tears gathered in your eyes as you worked the dildo in and out, your arm sore from the repeated movements. “Miss you. Need you. Want you, Vox.”

~~~~~<3

Vox walked into the dark apartment and glanced around, the dim red light of the windows filtered in through the privacy screens combined with the light from his screen to allow him to see his way.

You hadn’t waited up for him but that was alright. It was late and you deserved your rest. He was mildly disappointed though, having wanted to spend some time with you. There wasn’t anyone he could blame for it though. He made his bed, may as well lay in it.

He had been working too much lately, he knew that. The fact that you were so accommodating, so gracious about his work schedule was something he never wanted to take for granted. He had been, though. He knew that and he knew he needed to make it up to you.

Dimming his screen, he tossed his jacket on the barstool next to the kitchen island and made his way through the space. It had been your apartment but in his heart, it felt more like home than his own penthouse did. That was why he never pressured you to move up into it with him or to find a better place.

This was a space where Vox could just be Vox, not the King of the Tower.

A sound caught his ear, one that he didn’t expect to hear. Turning toward her bedroom, he followed the sounds of soft sighing and squelching. It was the sounds of sex.

His heart pounded in his chest, blood pumping hard through his audio processers. He had spent too much time away and if what he feared was happening was actually happening, he couldn’t blame you. He wouldn’t blame you.

Would he kill the man? Without a doubt. Would he be hurt? Sure. But he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to blame you. You wouldn’t have been the first to get tired of waiting for him and go on to find another to fill the place he so often left vacant.

Opening the door, he wasn’t prepared for what he saw.

You were on the bed, on your knees and head down. Your ass was up, legs spread as you worked a pale pink dildo into your sopping cunt. Each weak thrust squelched as you gasped softly. A vibrator was held weakly in your hand, pressed against your clit from below.

Your eyes were hardly more than slits, distracted by what you were doing. His presence wasn’t noticed as you softly called out his name again and again.

There was no one else. There was no other man. You hadn’t replaced him, at least not with anything with a heartbeat. The attempt to replace him artificially was clearly unsuccessful.

He knew you were not one that often took pleasure into your own hands. That wasn’t to say he had thought it never happened, just that he knew what was in the boxes in your nightstand just as much as he knew they had a lot of dust over their lids that had begun to build up.

Never did he expect to walk into the bedroom and see this. The sight made his knees weak as he stumbled to the bed. The emotional whiplash of the last few minutes had his mind fuzzy and heart pounding.

He wished he could smell the room. Did it smell like sex? Did it smell of your juices?

You didn’t notice he was in the room even as he fell to his knees at the foot of the bed. Reaching out with trembling hands, he longed for the feeling of your skin under his touch. He was too entranced by the way you worked the dildo in and out of your wet cunt.

When his hands made contact with the back of your thighs, you jumped. The dildo slipped from your hand and the vibrator fell to the bed as you turned to look over your shoulder at him. Vox couldn’t help but reach out, steading the dildo that was slowly was slipping from your hole.

“Vox?” you whimpered as he pushed the dildo deeper.

“What have you been up to?” Vox slipped the dildo out before pushing it back in again, fucking you with it again and again. “You seem needy. Been thinking about me?”

“Please,” you whined, rocking your hips back into the dildo, “Please Vox. Need you.”

“Alright,” Vox slipped the dildo from you, watching intently as your hole twitched, seeking the feeling of being filled. Rising from his knees, Vox set himself on the edge of the bed to toe off his shoes. “Let me-”

“Need you,” you whined, crawling across the bed to join him.

You ran your hands along his back, moaning at the strong muscles under your hands. Pressing your naked front to him, you reached around to caress his chest and abdomen. You ran your hands across him, feeling the way he leaned into your touch.

“You’re making this hard, dollface.”

“I’ll make this harder,” you said, reaching down to palm his cock through his pants.

He was already hard, straining against the fabric prison he was in but you were determined to make him even harder. Breasts pressed tightly against his back, you worked his pants open and pulled him free before he had a chance to protest.

The slight glow to his erect member was always one of the most beautiful sights. You loved that you could always find your way to him in the dark. His hips twitched, jumping under your hand as you caressed his length.

“You gonna let me get undressed?” Vox’s voice glitched out for a moment, bright blue light flashing to bathe the room for a short moment. “I’m a bit overdressed still and you’re being distracting.”

“I need you,” if asked, Vox would say you poured around his side as if you had become liquid.

“Be patient,” Vox ordered as you all but curled around him, mouth drawing close to his glowing cock while he worked his tie free from around his neck.

You licked at the head of his cock, tongue greedy for the taste of him. His hands trembled as you wasted no time pulling his cock into your mouth, working to take him as deep as you could.

“Fuck,” Vox’s fingers curled, claws slipping into your hair as he fought the urge to push your head down on his cock.

Your pace was slow and greedy as Vox leaned back. He could see the curve of your breast , the soft lines of your body and feel your overwhelming warmth as you bobbed up his shaft until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

His palm pressed against the back of your head, forcing your head down his length until the head of his cock pressed tightly against the back of your throat. You gagged on him, throat spasming around his length as you fought for breath. He let your head up so that you could gasp a breath, sputtering and coughing before he shoved your head back down again.

As soon as he let you up again, you started crawling around him. Before he had a chance to think more about getting his clothes off, you were in his lap. With knees on either side of his hips, you kissed at where his neck peeked out from his open collar.

“What are you-?” Vox’s voice was choked off as you sank down on his cock, sighing at the way his larger size stretched you in a way your little dildo didn’t.

You shifted your hips as you sank lower and lower, all but purring into him as your weight settled into his lap. Your hips rocked, rising and falling ever so slightly as you let your body adjust to the significant increase in size from your little dildo, letting him stroke every spot deep inside you.

“Please,” your lips moved against the soft column of his neck, tongue tracing the line between his dark blue skin and the collar of his shirt. “Need you, Vox. Need you so bad.”

“You have me, doll.” Vox’s hands grip your hips as his voice distorts, static snow covering his screen for a moment. “Fuck, you have me.”

You rose up off his cock until only his head was kissing your entrance. After a moment, you sank again, slowly. You bounced as his hips and thighs made contact with you again. Each time you repeated this process, you did it a little faster.

You were fucking yourself with him just as you had fucked yourself with the little pink dildo. Each time his cock filled you, it was so much more satisfying than anything you had been able to achieve yourself.

Bouncing on him, you panted and gasped. Vox’s screen bathed your face and chest in a soft blue light as he sat, gripping your hips and watching you. His attention was divided, split between watching your cunt swallow his cock, staining his pants with your slick and the way your breasts bounced with every thrust.

His audio input was flooded with the sound of your sopping core squelching around his cock and your panting breath, cries of his name on your tongue. He struggled to focus on you as the fans in the back of his screen kicked on.

“Hold on,” his voice was garbled and his screen flashed bars and blue, “Babydoll-”

Vox’s screen went blue, too bright as was his default setting. The message “Error 34.420 virus found: Came too fast, damn Babygirl” was written in bright white on the screen as his torso fell back, hitting the bed with a soft thud.

You kept riding, working yourself on him as his cock twitched inside you, painting your walls with the seed that was so unique to him. In the dim light of your bedroom, if someone had been looking in on their private moment, they would see the slight glow from his cum around your opening, coating his shaft as you lifted yourself off of him and smearing it onto his pants as you let yourself slip back over his length.

“Error 404 message not found cowgirl position too good,” Displayed on the screen.

Hiding your face from the bright light in his shoulder, you whined as you continued to ride him. Vox was nothing if not able to please, remaining hard inside you even as his systems came back online.

It wasn’t enough, nothing felt like it was enough.

Grinding against him, you fucked yourself with him as his systems processed. Tears pricked at your eyes and as you struggled to find the right way to stimulate yourself on his cock to make the fire burning in you lessen and bring the orgasm you so badly wanted to surface.

Something was wrong with you and you knew you needed Vox to fix it. He was the only man in all of Hell that could fix it.

His face went dark for a moment before coming to life again with a bright spark that grew and extended across the screen. It pulsed with his heartbeat for a moment before fading to reveal his bright eyes blinking to life with a deep moan.

His fingers twitched against your hips as he finished booting up and returning to life. Strong hands and hard claws gripped you, running up and down your back as you fucked yourself onto him.

“Doll,” His voice was thick as his nails lightly scratched down your back. “You good?”

“I need-”

“What do you need, Baby?” As more systems came online again, he began trusting up into your lazily. “Tell me what I can do for you?”

“I want to come.” You whimpered as his arms tightened around you. “I get so close but I can’t. Please. Please make me come.”

He leaned up, shifting your weight back into his lap as he pulled your face from his shoulder with a fist in your hair. You bumped your head on the corner of his screen but you hardly noticed the pain. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last time you too a blow from his sharp edges.

Vox kissed you deeply, static lips parting yours as he drank up your moans. He maneuvered you as if you weighed nothing, lifting you and placing your back on the bed. Your hand traveled down your body, fingers caressing your clit as you watched him lean back to admire the view. Arching, you writhed under his eyes, gasping as you fingered your sloppy hole, not giving a thought to the slightly glowing cum spreading on your fingers.

“Please, Vox. It’s so much- so much better with you inside me. It hurts less. Please, I need you back inside. Vox.”

Clumsily, he kicked out of his pants. He shrugged his shirt off next as he covered your body with his. He wrapped your legs around his waist, mouth leaving electric kisses along your breasts as he lined himself up again.

“I’m right here, Doll. I’ve got you.”

He slipped in easily, spreading your walls around him. He groaned as he sank until his balls were flush with you. Your arms wrapped around him, clinging to him. Nails dug into his thick blue skin.

He wasted no time, beginning to thrust into you immediately, slowly at first but becoming quicker as you urged him on. You begged, pleaded as his pubic bone brushed against your clit with each thrust.

Vox grabbed your hip with a hand, grip so strong his claws indented your skin. You only whined, ignoring the very real risk that his sharp claws would puncture your skin, placing all your trust in him to not hurt you.

He hiked your hips up, snaking his hand under your lower back to do so, changing the angle of your body. This new angle forced the head of his cock to push and drag harshly against the front of your walls, bulging slightly against your abdomen. Harshly, be bullied the spot inside you that he knew would reliably have you seeing stars.

He was not disappointed in the slightest with your reaction. Your mewls and gasps only encouraged him to continue, hitting that spot faster, harder.

Leaning back, he pulled your hips up higher. You were spread out on the bed, hands gripping his strong forearms at times only to flop down to the bed when he would hit your core just right.

“Vox,” his name was a prayer you couldn’t stop saying, “Please. So good, you make me feel so good. Want to cum so bad. Want to- need to.”

“I’ve got you.”

Vox’s claws dug into your skin, holding your hips tightly, allowing him to hold your hips and core suspended in the air as he rose on his knees, thrusting into you harshly. Your upper back and shoulders rested comfortably on the bed as you looked up at him through lust glazed eyes.

Parted lips gasped his name as he gave you what you wanted. Your breasts shifted with every violent thrust into you. Your toes curled and fingers twisted into the blankets. The dim blue light of his screen reflected off your skin, highlighting every curve, including the ever so slight bulge as his cock continued to push out against you with each thrust.

Vox’s hands were one of your favorite features. They were strong and powerful, yet capable of such sweet and gentle touches. There was another thing they were capable of. His claw rubbed against your clit, your lower back supported by his hand splayed under you.

“Want to feel you cum, Babydoll.” Vox panted, fans whirling as he maintained his body temperature.

Warmth spread over his fingertip before it shifted, static tingling over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Every thrust into you was paired with a rise in the static tingling against your clit.

“Please,” tears rand own the sides of your face as you felt the way your slick dripped down your body, running up your back. Never had you been so wet. Never had you been so needy. Never had Vox gone more than one round with you but if you could think straight, you’d be thankful to know he could.

“Going to make you come undone,” Vox promised, smile and eyes both wide as he took in the fucked out state you were in. He didn’t know what had you so worked up or why, but he knew it was just for him. You were just for him.

“Going to make you see stars. Going to make you- fffuck.” He groaned as your walls began to flutter and tighten around him. You were so close now. “Fuck baby, you feel so good. Fucking made for me. So needy, so fucking hot just for me. Just for me.”

You grabbed at your breast with a hand, pinching your nipple as he pulled your hips higher. He loomed over you, filthy words falling from his lips even as he looked down at you with love clear in his eyes.

Reaching out for him, you ran your other hand along his chest as he folded closer to you. His heart thrummed under your fingers until your arm was too weak to support itself. Your hand flopped to the mattress above your head, spreading yourself across the bed just a little more as Vox watched you say his name as if it was the most important thing in the world.

“Cum for me,” he begged. “Come on Babygirl. Want to feel you cum on my cock. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking cum like only I can make you.”

The static spread from your clit as he spike, dancing over your body in powerful little blue arcs of power, leaving the most pleasant zaps in their path. Each little zap stole your breath. Soon they concentrated on every place Vox knew you loved most.

They tingled and zapped your nipples. Electric power danced over your throat, making muscles twitch as you failed to control your breathing.

So close now.

The electricity ran over her legs and across her abdomen, tightening every muscle against her control. Blue sparks lit up the space between your bodies in little blue flashes as it played over your clit, Vox’s hand no longer needing to make contact with it to keep it stimulated.

“Fffffuck,” His screen was glitching now, bars shooting across the surface and distorting his face as you clenched tightly down on his cock.

Your back arched and twitched, fingers gripping whatever they could reach as your body convulsed around him. Each contraction of your cunt had him moaning, voice glitching as much as his screen as he fought to stay present and ride out your much sought after orgasm.

You screamed his name as the twisting pressure crested and white hot pleasure burned every nerve ending in your body as it snapped. Vox fell forward, holding your hips tightly as he fucked you through it.

“So good,” He praised in that garbled voice that told you how close he really was again, “Such a good fucking doll. Fucking came so hard for me. Feel so good. Squeezing me so good. So good.”

He fell to his side, pulling you onto your side as your body continued to flinch and clench with every ounce of stimulation he gave you. His screen was glitching more as your begging shifted into words of praise and thanks, basking in the sweet relief and aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Babygirl,” Vox said, “Doll, I’m- I’m going to- going to cum agai-”

His screen went blue as you felt his cock twitch with the force of his second orgasm. More cum painted your insides as fans ran at high speeds. Fingers gripped you, holding you close enough to feel his thundering heart under his dark skin while his hips rocked against you.

“Error Code 34 Message not found. Please reboot.” Displayed on his too bright screen when you glanced up at your lover as he stilled, finally feeling spent and at peace. “Orgasm over ride. System Vox.exe has stopped working due to overuse. Vox.exe Unresponsive. Please reboot.”

You fell asleep to the soft sounds of your boyfriend, the powerful tech overlord rebooting slowly with you tucked into his arms and under the hard edge of his screen.

~~~~~<3

Vox blinked the sleep from his eyes as he leaned over the coffee machine, willing the pot to fill faster. He was tired, his muscles were sore and he didn’t get nearly enough sleep but it was worth it.

Whatever the hell had gotten you in that mood last night, he needed to figure it out and repeat it. He had woken after just four hours of sleep and sacrificed his early morning work in favor of scrolling through your history.

Was it invasive? Probably. He wasn’t known for respecting privacy. It couldn’t have been something he did, he hadn’t been around. While he clutched the first cup of coffee from the second pot, he again went over what you’d been watching and found nothing that would have made you so desperate for him.

He found nothing in your message history either, with him or anyone else. There was nothing in your reading history, your internet tabs. Nothing.

There was equally no trace of whoever had sent you the flowers he was currently fondling. He found no record of you purchasing the flowers for yourself so someone had to have sent them.

He was just getting ready to dig into finding out who when the buzzer on the door rang.

Opening the door, he almost dropped his mug at who was on the other side of the door. “Val?”

“Vox?”

“What are you doing here?” They asked in unison, both demons not really used to interacting with the other in the early morning hours. Wide eyes blinked nakedly, both sets exhausted.

Vox hadn’t seen Valentino awake before noon unless he just hadn’t gone to sleep yet and even that was a rarity after five.

Valentino hadn’t expected to find Vox casually dressed on one of the lower, cheaper floors of the tower.

Vox crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe and drinking casually from the black mug in his hand. He crossed his ankles as he narrowed his eyes, “It’s my girlfriend’s unit. Why are you here?”

Val’s big bug eyes blinked at Vox, processing the information slowly. “My… My flowers were delivered to the wrong floor.”

Vox relaxed instantly, easy smile returning to his face as he disappeared inside. He reappeared with the flowers in hand. “I wondered where they came from.”

“Right,” Valentino looked from the flowers Vox deposited in one of his sets of hands and back to his partner. “And you’re… feeling okay?”

“Sore,” Vox laughed, “Been a long night if you know what I mean.”

“Right.” Valentino blinked again, “Right.”

“Been busy,” Vox nodded, “She was feeling a bit extra needy.”

“I’m sure she was.” Valentino said, looking down at the flowers again. “Was there a cover for the blooms?”

“Not that I saw,” Vox shrugged.

“Vox?” You called from in the room, his too big button down draped over your frame as you made your way over to him, sleepily wrapping your arms around his chest as you pressed your front against his back. “Is everything alright?”

“Just some business,” He answered before looking back at Valentino. “This stays under wraps.”

“Right,” Valentino said again as Vox shut he door in his face, leaving Valentino alone to figure out how to get through the tower and back to his studio with uncovered sex flowers. He had to find a way without having half the employees dropping their pants and starting an orgy before the cafeteria had even ended breakfast service.

Valentino looked down at the flowers, enjoying the way their pollen made his spine tingle. His power mingled with them to keep him under his own control but he hadn’t expected to find Vox unaffected but it sounded like his girl was.

For a moment, Valentino lingered at the door, considering telling Vox before changing his mind. It wasn’t his business.

#vox x reader #vox x you #vox smut #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin vox x you #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox x you #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox

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emeraldsfanfics · 6 months ago

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Hi! I wonder if you could do Rise! x Wonder Woman reader (seperate if possible)? However she's much introvert and reserved in a sense that she wouldn't show her power/strength until when exactly needed like saving the turtles or defeating some enemies when the turtles aren't looking? I just want to see some dynamic of the turtles would react not knowing that reader is stronger than a freaking missile, lifting them up when she was helping them avoid the missile but wouldn't show her power unless necessary. (I'm sorry if this too long) 🎈

Secret Strength

●ROTTMNT BROTHERS x WW!f!reader● ●platonic Headcannons●

Thank you so much for requesting 🎈annon <3 this is bringing out the DC nerd in meh ;-;

》You were a very good friend of April's, being an exchange student from some far off remote island?

》Anyway, you seemed very introverted and did talk when it was necessary, you mainly did beautiful poetry, which is what April always said

》You would hang out with April in the lair, she insisted you can be trusted

April: Trust me, you're gonna want my friend around *wink*

》Leo《

》You were also pretty secretive, not sharing many details about your life and would instead ask questions about Leo (to distract him)

》He would always be so talkive around you

》But you'll always tag along on missions, be gone for a second and appear in the next?

》Very observant so he confronts you, which you say he must be seeing things (He KNOWS something is up)

》During an attack, one of the mutants had a missile luncher and aimed it at Leo. This is when you seen, used to laso of truth to pull him out of the way and threw the missile up, exploding

"What was that?!"

"Uhhhh...."

》That's when you and April gave him the talk, that you're an Amazonian Princess of Themyscaria, daughter of zues and Hippolyta and a warrior

"And why would you hide this?! You know that would've been useful to learn!" Then just changes to, "I knew there was something off I KNEW IT I'M ALWAYS RIGHT!"

"My background and abilities weren't necessary to discuss. The only one who had asked was April." *you shrugged*

》Leo was actually flabbergasted 😭 the introverted friend of April's is strong enough to move a live missile-

》That's when you two become very close friends!

》You guys actually become the best of friends, more of a yapper x listener friendship

》He actually thinks you are the coolest person ever! I mean-youre a warrior princess and demigod

》When you start to warm up more you tell him about your life on the island, how hard it was adjust

》Leo would steal your laso of truth to interrogate his brothers

"WHERE IS MY LOU JITSU COMIC?!"

》You found out and dragged out with him in the laso

》This, pretty stupid turtle, will get in so many life threatening situations at this point you're just going to let him die/you'll never do that

》You two LOVE competition, so sparing is something you two do often, however you try not to kick his butt...

》He asks for you to teach him some techniques you learned from your aunt antiophe, which is what you do

》That's when you, after much convincing, you eventually fight alongside them on patrol or whenever out

》And then he's lying, that's when you use your laso of truth, your useful during interrogations because of the laso

》Sometimes you surprise him even more because what do you mean you stop bullets that fast with your stylish bracelets

"Honestly, respect"

》You are also another person he can talk to for advice, you are literally so wise

》Plays with your sword and shield to pretend to be you, his brother's also join in and play with your stuff

"I am Y/n of the Amazons! Protector of this land!"

"Now let's see how much force these bracelets can handle MUHAHAHA!"

"I'm a cowboy!"

"Shouldn't we put this stuff back before Y/n comes back?"

I'm sorry I only did Leo, but thank you so much for requesting Lovely!

#emeralds fanfics #x reader #rottmnt #tmnt 2018 #fanfic #fanfiction #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt raphael x reader #rottmnt raphael #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey x reader #rottmnt michelangelo #rottmnt mikey

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kendyzzlewp · 1 year ago

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Creatures in Heaven||ART DONALDSON

pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader

summary: you run into your old college sweetheart, art, in a hotel bar. old wounds resurface as you tried to make sense of it all.

tags: college sweethearts, angst, non graphic smut?, reconnecting, pain, sad!art, divorced!reader, tears

“I don’t think I realize just how much I miss you sometimes. We were young and so in love. We were just creatures in heaven.”

You’ve always loved hotel bars.

The dimly lit space, the chatter of the guests around you, the overpriced drinks. Sitting down on a stool at the hotel you frequent after a particularly hard day at work, you can’t help but let your mind drift off. The TV above you plays a recap of the latest tennis match. Your old friend shows up on the screen, brown head stuck to his forehead, a huge goofy victorious smile on his face.

You quickly pull up your phone, sending a congratulatory text to Patrick. Making plans to meet before he leaves town.

A glass of wine gets placed in front of you, the maroon liquid swirling slightly.

“Y/N?”

You could recognize that voice anywhere. Turning slightly in your stool, your eyes met surprised blue ones. The pounding of your heart could be heard from miles away. He looked older, fitter. His blonde hair was now shorter, a stark difference to his Stanford days.

“Art,” you whispered, placing your drink down with trembling hands. “Wow, it’s been so long.”

As your gaze meets Art's, memories flood back, and you're reminded of the countless conversations and shared moments in your college dorm. You could lie and say you haven’t been following his career but you weren’t kidding anyone but yourself. You watched every tournament, every match, cheered silently from your apartment as took the tennis world by storm.

As he sits down beside you, you can't help but feel a rush of emotions—nostalgia mixed with a tinge of sadness. The memories of your last encounter weigh heavily on your mind, the pain and heartache still fresh despite the passing years.

"I can't believe it's really you," Art says, breaking the silence. "I've thought about you so often, wondered how you were doing. You look great.”

You look into his eyes, seeing a mix of emotions mirrored back at you. There's regret, longing, and a hint of hope.

"I've thought about you too," you admit, a sad smile playing on your lips. "I watched your matches, saw your rise to the top. I'm so proud of you, Art.

"Thank you, Y/N. That means a lot to me." Art's expression softens, a bittersweet smile crossing his face. “Wouldn’t be where I am without your support.”

The air between you is heavy with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. You both know there's much to discuss, but the weight of the past sits between you like a barrier.

“How’s Tashi?”

You had to ask. Patrick talked about them all the time. Even drunkenly confessing he had slept with Tashi in Atlanta when they bumped into each other for a tournament. You wonder if Art knew, you wonder if he hurt the way he hurt you.

“She’s Tashi,” he whispers, motioning the bartender for a drink. “Same as always.”

Art's response is cryptic, and you can sense the tension in his voice. You remember the pain of hearing about his relationship with Tashi, and it stirs up a mix of emotions within you.

"I heard about your marriage," you say softly, searching his eyes for any reaction. "I hope she makes you happy."

Art looks down at his drink, swirling the liquid around in his glass. His silver wedding band caught the bar’s overhead yellow light.

"It's complicated. Things are... not what they seem."

You nod silently, understanding how complicated a marriage like that could be. You think about your own failed relationship, how it was necessary for you to let your husband go because he couldn’t compare. He could never compare to the man sitting next to you.

“Are you married?” He asked, taking a sip of his whisky.

You hesitate for a moment, the weight of Art's question sinking in. It's a question that holds so much significance, one that forces you to confront your own feelings and past decisions.

"Divorced," you reply softly, meeting his gaze steadily.

There's a flicker of something in Art's eyes, a mix of surprise and curiosity. You wonder if he can sense the unspoken truth behind your words, the lingering emotions that still tie you to him despite the passage of time.

"I've had my share of relationships," you continue, your eyes fixed on the drink in front of you. "But they just… didn’t compare."

Art's gaze intensifies, his eyes searching yours for any hint of what you're feeling. The air between you crackles with tension, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the dimly lit space of the hotel bar.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he says softly, his voice tinged with regret. "But I'm glad you're here now."

You feel a rush of emotions at his words, the familiar warmth of his presence washing over you like a comforting embrace. Despite the years apart and the pain of the past, there's still a connection between you that refuses to fade. You were only really yourself around Art. The rest just got this fucked up, fake version of you.

“I heard you have a daughter,” you said, changing the subject. “How is she?”

A pang of sadness hits you as you see the light in his eyes at the mention of his daughter. You wished you were the one to give him a child, just like you planned together all those years ago. Laid up together in your small dorm bed, hand intertwined, whispering promises and dreams at three in the morning.

“Lily,” Art's expression softens even more at the mention of his daughter, a warm smile spreading across his face. "She's the light of my life."

You can't help but smile at the genuine love and pride in his voice. Despite the complexities of his marriage and the challenges he may face, it's clear that his daughter brings him immense joy and fulfillment.

"I'm so glad to hear that," you say sincerely, feeling a bittersweet tug at your heartstrings. "She's lucky to have a father like you."

Art's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, it feels as though the weight of the past and the uncertainties of the future fade away, leaving only the warmth of the connection between you.

"Thank you," he murmurs, his voice filled with emotion.

As you continue to talk about Lily, you can't help but feel a sense of warmth and nostalgia enveloping you. Despite the complexities of your past and the uncertainties of the future, there's a comfort in the shared memories and the genuine connection between you and Art.

As the conversation flows, you find yourself opening up more than you ever expected, sharing stories and laughter in the dimly lit space of the hotel bar. It's as if the years apart have melted away, leaving only the familiar ease and familiarity of your college days.

You look down at your phone, eyes widening at the time. “Wow,” you exclaimed. “It’s three am.”

Art chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Time really flies when you're lost in conversation, doesn't it?"

You nod, feeling a mixture of surprise and contentment at how quickly the hours have passed. Despite the late hour, you find yourself reluctant to leave the comfort of Art's company and the warm ambiance of the hotel bar.

"It's been so wonderful catching up with you," you say, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. "I've missed this."

Art's smile mirrors yours, his expression filled with warmth and sincerity. "Me too, Y/N. It's been far too long."

As you gather your things and prepare to leave, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected reunion and the chance to reconnect with Art after so many years apart. Despite the complexities of your past and the uncertainties of the future, you know that this moment will always hold a special place in your heart.

As you bid Art farewell and step out into the cool night air, you feel a sense of renewal and hope stirring within you. You start walking down the street, your heart bleeding from reopening old wounds you swore to never touch again.

“Wait!”

You turn around to see Art jogging to catch up to you. He slows down as he approaches you, panting slightly.

“Is everything okay?" you ask, a hint of concern in your voice.

Art looks at you, tears pooling in his eyes. "I know it’s too late, but I just don’t think you realize just how much I miss you sometimes.”

His voice trembles, and you can see the raw emotion in his eyes. He steps closer, his hands trembling slightly as he reaches out to take your hand.

“Y/N, it’s been almost ten years, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about you. I miss the way you laugh, the way you’d stay up with me all night just to help me study, the way you believed in me when no one else did. I miss us.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his heartfelt confession. His words hit you with the force of all the years you’ve spent apart, all the moments you’ve both lived without each other.

“Art…” you begin, but he shakes his head, needing to say more.

“I thought marrying Tashi was the right thing to do, but it never felt right because she wasn’t you. Every achievement, every milestone—it felt hollow because you weren’t there to share it with me. I’ve tried to move on, to live my life, but no one ever came close to making me feel the way you did. I still love you, Y/N. I never stopped. And seeing you tonight, it’s like all those feelings just came rushing back.”

You’re overwhelmed, your heart pounding in your chest as you try to process his words. You feel a mix of hope, fear, and an undeniable longing.

“Art,” you whisper, tears streaming down your cheeks. “We can’t.”

He takes a step closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. “I don’t know what the future holds, and I know we both have a lot of shit to deal with, but I can’t let you walk away again. I refuse.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and desperation in his gaze. Despite the years apart and the complications of your pasts, the connection between you is undeniable.

“I don’t know what the future holds either,” you admit, your voice shaking. “But I do know that I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Without another word, he leans forward and presses his lips against yours, the taste of whiskey and longing lingering in the air. In that fleeting moment, everything else fades away—the pain of the past, the uncertainties of the future—leaving only the warmth of the connection between you and Art.

You both pull back, foreheads pressed together, heavy panting as you both try to catch your breath. Your heartbeat resonating in your ears as you find his hand, interlocking your fingers.

“Take me home?” You asked, silently hoping he understood the underlying tone of your invitation.

Art nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I'd love to."

Together, you walk through the quiet streets, the only sound being the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. The world feels hushed and intimate, as if it's just the two of you in your own little bubble of time.

As you reach your apartment building, you turn to face Art, your heart pounding in your chest. The moment feels charged with emotion, a mix of longing and uncertainty swirling between you.

"Do you want to come in?," you say softly, searching his eyes for any hint of what he's feeling. "I think I have some wine…”

He leans in and kisses you again, his lips soft and warm against yours. In that moment, all doubts and fears melt away, leaving only the certainty of your feelings for each other. You opened the door to your apartment, still locked in the passionate kiss.

Art kicks the door closed, walking you further into the room. His hands getting reacquainted with your body, muscle memory kicking in as he lifts you.

“That way,” you mumble against his lips, motioning to a door in the back.

With a soft chuckle, Art carries you towards the direction you indicated, his lips never leaving yours. The heat of the moment ignites a fire within you both as you stumble towards the bedroom.

You want to savor each moment. You need to remember it in case it’s the last time. There’s no rush as your hands lift his shirt over his head, his pale skin glowing with the moonlight that streams from your window. You press a kiss to the scar on his shoulder, feeling goosebumps appear on his skin.

Art does the same, tenderly lifting your dress over your head. His fingers tracing stroking every inch of your skin as he lays you down on your bed.

The room is filled with the sound of your breath mingling with the soft hum of the city outside. In this intimate space, you find solace and connection in each other's arms, lost in a whirlwind of passion and longing.

As the night stretches on, you lose yourself in each other, exploring every inch of each other's bodies as if trying to memorize every detail. Time seems to stand still as you become lost in the moment, consumed by the intensity of your shared desire.

—

Hours later, as the first light of dawn filters through the curtains, you find yourselves tangled together in the sheets, your bodies still humming with the echoes of your passion. Clothes strewn around the floor of your bedroom. With a contented sigh, you bury your face in Art's chest, feeling a sense of peace and fulfillment wash over you.

As you lie there in the quiet stillness of the morning, you realize that this is where you belong—wrapped in Art's arms. He holds you as if you were made just for him, so tightly and close. Trying to bound the pieces of you he broke, together.

And as you drift off to sleep, you know that no matter what the future may hold, you will always belong to Art Donaldson.

#Spotify #married art donaldson #art donaldson angst #challengers fanfiction #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #mike faist x reader #creatures in heaven #glass animals #songfic kind of #art donaldson #art donaldson oneshot #fem!reader

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princess-charlie-of-hell · 9 months ago

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Why does the fandom acts like Charlastor/Radiobelle is the worst ship in existence?

(This post is going to be pro Charlastor and contains anti Radioapple if you have a problem with it please either stop reading or at least stay respectful)

This is something which annoys me for a long time because the hate this ship gets is so over exaggerated in my opinion.

I am not saying that you are not allowed to dislike or hate this ship because i am myself someone who dislikes a ship sometimes for the silliest reason. But every time i see "what is the worst Hazbin Hotel and why is it Charlastor" or anything similar to it, I just can't take it serious anymore

This is why I am making this post to argue against some points which people always make against Radiobelle

"Alastor and Charlie have a Father-Daughter bond"

I already made a post why I dislike this whole trope but i write it here again because some people think this is Canon despite Alastor just acting like her father to annoy Lucifer. Because we only see Alastor acting like this in Dad beats dad and never before or after this again and Vivziepop even said it.

"Shipping Charlie and Alastor is WLW erasure and Charlie is with Vaggie"

This seems to be one of the main reason people are against Radiobelle but i think that something like this shouldn't be a problem because 1. Charlie is canonically Bi and so there shouldn't be a problem shipping her with a man and 2. Just because something is shipped in Fanon doesn't mean that the Canon ship is no longer Canon. Chaggie is Canon and I am happy about it because I love this ship too.

"That ship would be Toxic"

I have bad news to tell people but let's face it almost all Alastor ships are somehow toxic except maybe Radiorose. Alastor is not a good person and he would manipulate probably every person he mainly gets ship it like Lucifer or Vox, so I find it stupid to complain about this with only Charlastor

"The Age gap between the two are too huge, Alastor is too old for her"

This always make me roll my eyes because 1. Both are adults so who cares and 2. Charlie is canonically older than Alastor. For me this is always fandoms confusing naivity with being Childish.

"Alastor is canonically Ace"

Ace people can have romantic relationship too but if you don't feel comfortable with shipping him with others I won't say anything against it, I just dislike it when it gets comments it under fan art of any ship posts

This last part is just my opinion but I can't help thinking that this ship would be much more popular and wouldn't get that much hate if Charlie were a man or Alastor a woman. Image this whole scene

but with a male Charlie or any other male character. The fandom would have gone crazy and say how Alastor tried to seduce Charlie or tag it with "toxic yaoi". I already saw this whole scene redraw with Lucifer instead of Charlie and it was posted as Radioapple. I even think that if Alastor would be a woman she would be called a ace lesbian because Alastor in Canon dislikes men.

(Here starts the main anti Radioapple part so be warned)

Like I said I saw a pair scene redraw with Lucifer instead of Charlie with scenes between Charlie and Alastor and they often got posted under Radioapple and the fans loved it, so I wonder that Maybe people actually see romantic undertones between Charlie and Alastor but they just dislike Radiobelle or maybe just M/F ships so they just take Lucifer and swap him with Charlie so that they can have a M/M version

This post got longer than expected ups.

This was mostly a post for me to vent because I see sometimes people saying Charlastor is as bad as V*angel and it drives me crazy. Radiobelle isn't everyone cups of tea and that is OK but sometimes I see someone write under Charlie/Alastor fanart "I am just going to image it is Radioapple" or that what I hate at most when somebody makes fanchildren of them and shippers of radioapple use them for their ship and it makes my blood boil because for me this so disrespectful to the artist who put time and work in them.

#charlie morningstar #hazbin alastor #anti radioapple #charlastor #Radiobelle #Hazbin hotel #hazbin charlie

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madschiavelique · 2 years ago

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GOD I AM SO FERAL FOR SUB!READER W/ MIGUEL AND PETER (im so sorry for the all caps its how I show my enthusiasm 😭😭) but I rlly wanna see the yandere hcs ,,

SO AM I BESTIE SO AM I

headcanon : yandere!miguel o'hara x reader x yandere!peter b parker content warnings : yandere content, mention of violence (miguel and peter killing torturing and killing someone), reader being injured, peter and miguel are really manipulative in this, genderneutral!reader, no use of Y/N word count : 1,4k tag list : @fandom-ash

firstly, they'd had their eye on you for some time now

you were a much-loved spider, and everywhere you went people were smiling and complimenting you, not so much for what you did as a spider, but because you had such a delightful personality

you'd only recently made your debut with the Spider Society, and Peter and Miguel in turn seemed to slowly fall under your spell

peter came to see you regularly to check up on you, and Miguel called you more often to get more details about your reports

then one day Miguel started keeping a tab open on the side of his business activities with your locations backed up by surveillance cameras

obtaining a watch for you had turned out to be the quickest watch delegation in Spider Socety's history

the attraction they felt for you was becoming far too great to ignore, even for the workaholic Miguel, who thinks of nothing else but the maintenance and balance of the universe

peter had been following you around the society from higher up, and one day he noticed something that he immediately reported to Miguel: you were starting to see another spider on a regular basis.

he was such a lesser guy than Miguel and Peter that they wondered how you could have even crossed his path

you started greeting him every day, laughing with him, joking around, and they watched from afar

well, as long as you were just friends, there shouldn't be any problem, right?

but just as Peter was coming to eat with you in the cafeteria, the notorious undesirable individual showed up and sat down next to you.

too close, Peter thought. How could you smile at him, laugh at his jokes?

and what he saw made his jaw clench: the spider's hand caressed your cheek

how could he breathe the same air as you?

miguel had obviously seen the whole scene from the security screens, and he'd nearly smashed one of the desks

the next day, when you ventured to the cafeteria as usual, you didn't find your spider in your usual spot

strange, he never failed to find you here, but instead you found Miguel and Peter, coming to sit with them.

when you asked them if they'd seen him, they replied that he had some business in his own reality that required him to stay away from the Society for a while

of course, they would never tell you how slow and painful his death had been

as the months passed, you inevitably grew closer to Miguel and Peter. Since they were gradually pushing every one of your friends and acquaintances away from you, they were the only ones left.

you visited them more frequently, sometimes just keeping them company while they took care of reports.

you had become an inseparable trio, and not a day went by when you weren't with them.

in fact, they started gaining new habits such like showering you with gifts

everything they do to make sure you're comfortable enough to never ever think of leaving them is pretty amazing

(as if you had a choice to leave anyway)

saw a new cute little top that you like? already yours

it was almost uncanny how much they observed the details in your behavior

sometimes you'd simply walk past something, your gaze lingering on it for a few seconds longer than you'd normally wear it out, and the same day you'd find yourself with it in your hands

because let's be honest, they're extremely rich.

The technological advances Miguel had brought to the entire dimension had made him rich for the rest of his life and beyond, so he had no worries about covering you in anything you wanted.

and as for Peter, you weren't sure how he managed it, but what you were sure of was that he, too, had no financial worries

they were becoming a little more tactile too

peter took your hand in his, caressing your back and cheek gently, while Miguel had got into the habit of having you sit against him while he worked

your whole day consisted of keeping them company, but you had duties as a citizen of the Society

however, since they ran the Society, they could change the rules just for you right ?

it had started slowly, with them preventing you from going on missions and putting other spiders on the job

but your spider instincts soon kicked in, and you insisted on going on the mission

so they had a silent agreement that their eyes exchanged and managed to find an anomaly that was far too tough, sending you out in its dimension, alone, supervising you with the security screens

the anomaly was horrible, far too fast for you, far too powerful, far too cruel. It wounded you with terrible ease, while you struggled to even scratch it.

you found yourself in a corner, at the mercy of the anomaly, and of course, absolute fear gripped you along with the panic of not getting out of there

you screamed repeatedly for them to come and get you, as the anomaly was closing in fast, but they needed you to understand. you were completely weakened and scared you'd never be able to finish this fight, tears streaming down your cheeks as you called out to them, and they finally arrived.

they quickly took care of the anomaly, then came back to you, sobbing and shaking in the corner. they took you in their arms, cuddling you gently, whispering "now you see why we don't want to send you on a mission? it's far too dangerous, do you understand?"

you had to go through a painful little lesson to realize how much you needed them, didn't you?

they took you back to the infirmary, where they remained at your bedside until your recovery was complete

since then, you've never been on a mission again

you were a little bit too traumatized by the experience, and they'd managed to make sure that they were the only people you could turn to in case of trouble

so they offered to let you live in their apartment so they could be ready to provide for your every need, which you accepted. and on the very day of the offer, you moved in with them - they'd already had a room ready for you about a month before

it wasn't long before the three of you were growing closer together - which is, of course, somewhat inevitable when three people live together

the looks Miguel and Peter sometimes shared when they saw you were full of pride and mischief

they frequently exchanged them. when you'd come out of the shower for instance, when they'd deliberately remove your clothes from the bathroom while you were showering to see you dressed only with a towel to look for clothes - it always ended up with Miguel and Peter making you wear clothes of their choice

soon enough, you were an official trouple

from then on, you'd always have something on you to show that you belonged together: a necklace, a bracelet, you'd wear one of their t-shirts-

speaking of which, the first time they saw you wearing one of their T-shirts, they froze in their tracks while you simply went about your life in the apartment

you didn't go out for a week after that. the reason? there were several, such as the fact that, obviously, as beautiful as you were in their clothes, they couldn't allow anyone but themselves to see you like that, but also, and above all, because you hadn't been able to walk properly all week...

once you'd had the misfortune to go out without telling them, just to buy ingredients for cookies to make them a treat, and they'd moved heaven and earth to find you until you came home like a flower.

you'd been badly scolded. what if something had happened to you and they hadn't been able to get there in time to help? what if someone came to you and asked you to do a job for them that you couldn't refuse? What if someone was mean to you?

their anger had frightened you terribly, and you'd ended up in tears

they took you in their arms, reassuring you, comforting you and making you promise never to do anything like that again

it was from that moment on that your restrictions on going out were tightened. you couldn't go out without the company of one of them, and if you wanted to go out alone, Lyla was there to watch your every move.

one thing was certain: they were loving and soft, as long as you obeyed them

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feyd-meowtha · 6 months ago

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@middlingmay's Fic Rec Questions

I saw this list and thought it would be fun to give it a go!!

1) Fic that's made you laugh the most

He May Be The Reason by @c-goldthorn. It's a Clegan Notting Hill au and it makes me squeal with delight. So cute that I got distracted while reading it and missed my stop on the train.

2) A fic that made you cry

my kingdom for a kiss upon your shoulder by pillar of our community @swifty-fox. I'm sure most ppl have probably read this one but it's such an amazing post-show continuation that really doesn't pull it's punches when it comes to both PTSD and the realities of being gay in the 40s

3) Fave comfort, silly fic

It's a little rogue but I'm gonna say Awake, Alive by the wonderful @whirlpool-blogs. It's a pet sematary au so not exactly what you would call traditionally comforting but the ending makes me so happy and the whole thing is just a joy. The fact that this came to mind when I thought 'comfort fic' is probably pretty telling about me as a person....

4) The fic that made you try a genre or trope that you don't usually read

This is also a bit rogue but it was tricky since I'll read anything, so I'll go with Strings of the Strings of Life by the lovely @weimarweekly, not because of any of the content but because I don't, as a general rule, read Dune fic that was written after Dune 2 released. I've bored everyone to tears with my complaints about that version of Feyd but it is what it is so I tend not to like any fics written about that version of the character BUT the prospect of a feydpaul Berlin techno au was too delicious to resist and the whole fic is so fun. It makes me miss Germany sooo bad.

5) An author who has inspired your own fic writing

This one has got to go to the anonymous author of both Close And Yet Closer and The Replacement. Both of these fics are god tier and their character psychology and willingness to allow their versions of the characters and relationships to be ugly and messy are so inspiring to me. They were also the first person in the John/Hausman tag on ao3 which is currently just me and them. I think about the replacement all the time and it was a HUGE influence on 3am Eternal. If I can ever write half as well as them I will die happy.

6) What are your fave underdog authors? Those that you feel are underappreciated and deserve a bit more love

Hmmm, this is kinda hard cus the MOTA fandom is pretty small so I feel like a lot of stuff gets decent buzz. Imma shout out @whirlpool-blogs again and especially their fucked up clegans fics, I have read and reread all of their works and they're always so so good. I will also add @steeseman for Up In Our Bedroom. It's another great post-canon fic and while it has a lot of hits, I don't think I've seen anyone talking about it on here.

7) What's one thing you wish writers/readers did more of when it comes to fanfiction.

The obvious one is comment, it really does make my day when I get a nice comment, even just a couple words or an emoji mean a lot. The other thing I would say is writing curt/Kenny fic, there's not much out there and I want more please. Also more fics where characters relationships are like genuinely kind of fucked up and toxic. I love that shit.

8) What's one thing you wish writers/readers did less of when it comes to fanfiction.

Oh man, I really do not know. The only thing I can think of is that I hate the word 'yap' or 'yapping' so if I see it in a fic I shudder. Hmmmm, I guess I also wish that there was a little more consideration when writing Gale's dad as an alcoholic because it's often treated as the basis for him being a shitty person. Addicts aren't automatically bad people and I sometimes feel like it's portrayed that way. @blixabargelds wrote an excellent post on this

9) I'm adding an extra one and that is current WIPs I am reading

Sympathy For The Devil by @blixabargelds, it's a modern ghost hunting AU and the set up is AMAZING. I will also throw Superstar in here even though it's not releasing main story chapters yet, everything Frankie writes is so tailored to my personal tastes it's crazy and I am so excited to read @mildharm's John POV chapters too. Literally foaming at the mouth thinking about it rn. When it starts being released fully, I fear it may kill me.

Love Song From A Dog and The Heart Is A Muscle by @swifty-fox. I've only just started THIAM but I'm so hyped for their take on the tattoo shop/flower shop au.

Hit Me Where The Heart Is by @london-cowboy makes me legitimately insane. I jump for joy whenever there is a new update, these versions of the characters and their stories are, as Paris Hilton would say, beyond. I do not have the words to say how much I am loving this fic. The characters and setting feel so real and it's just so creative. AMAZING.

I need to get around to starting let us not desert one another; we are an injured body and also the time skip fic whose name escapes me by @irregularcollapse and also catching up with @weimarweekly's rodeo fic, Looking For Eight

Writing this was very fun and I encourage anyone reading to give it a go if they fancy it!!

#mota #mota fic rec #hillyspeaks

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songmingisthighs · 1 year ago

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Beefcake Raccoon

group : ateez

pairing : yeosang × reader (ft. boyfriend!jongho)

genre : smut

wc : 6.5 k

tw : mdni, explicit smut, unprotected sex, consensual sex, slight m × m (ofc between jongsang), fingering, cum tasting, dirty talk, cowgirl, creampie, mentions and description of jongho's junk, idk what else to tag here ngl

a/n : pt. 1 of an impulsive mini series with @bro-atz and @skteezcursed. pt. 2 and 3 will be added here once they drop! and yes, i call yeosang beefcake raccoon. how can i nawt when he looks like this ??? and yea i kinda went overboard with this because i had planned on writing 2.5-3k but here we are

a/a/n : it's 12.38 am and i'm sleepy and still sick as fuck and i had the sudden raging NEED to purchase all of the aniteez keyring. which i might do. idk if this is my manic episode making a comeback or me having impulse control issue

buy me coffee ?

beefcake raccoon | concrete bear | manwich

Yeosang isn't really one to butt into other people's business, not even when certain things affect him personally.

For example, he never really voiced out how much he didn't like the way Hongjoong would come into his room, steal his supplements, and just leave things a mess. Mind you, he has no problem with letting the older guy take a couple pills or tablets from what could only be described as a collector's mountain. Heck, he's a firm believer in sharing whatever they own especially with people Yeosang already thought of as family. He just didn't like the way Hongjoong tended to leave some of the bottles not properly screwed. He hates seeing things not properly screwed. So he would just take a breath and clean up after the captain.

Another example is when a tornado came barrelling in. And no, it's not a real tornado which would have probably been better. Yeosang didn't voice out his complaints when his best friend of almost a decade suddenly came by the dorm he shared with Yunho only to kick him out. "Yunho and I are in this small gaming tournament and we need to beat this son of a bitch," Wooyoung said as he set up his gaming stuff on the dining table with Yunho who stopped momentarily and furrowed his eyebrows at this frantic friend, "You do know punchpunch483 is 12 years old, right?" which resulted in Wooyoung glaring at him, "A punk is a punk no matter the age, I will not stand the disrespect that's why he and his guild are going down so deep in the ground he can say hi to his grandpa." At that point, Yeosang simply clocked out of the conversation, dejectedly resigning to the fact that he wasn't going to be able to just watch his show in his bed and fall asleep to it.

There were some conflicts in Yeosang's brain, however. One good thing about the dorm Wooyoung shared was the fact that he lives with a workaholic nomad and an introverted busybody. One bad thing about the dorm Wooyoung shared was the fact that said dorm is often occupied by a girl Yeosang has a crush on and that girl is dating one of his other best friends.

Yeosang considers Jongho to be one of the luckiest men to be alive to be dating you. You, who in his mind is the most adorable sweetheart of a human being to have ever lived. It wasn't like you were the most polite person what with the names you can throw towards people you dislike and mutter towards rude strangers and the screeching laugh you sometimes let out when someone told you a stupid joke. Everything about you seemed so charming in Yeosang's eyes even when you were being touchy with the friend he was oh so jealous of. Sometimes Yeosang wonders, in his existential crisis-ridden thoughts at 3 am, the chances of the two of you being in the same lifetime. He wouldn't say that he was in love with you, but he wouldn't deny that he would often daydream about what it would be like to be with you, to be the one kissing you and to be the one getting back hugs from you. Well, he wouldn't deny it to himself.

So another good thing about Wooyoung's dorm is probably the fact that he could see and interact with you. But one other bad thing is the fact that sometimes he felt like Jongho knew how he thinks about you and that unnerves him. So he tends to avoid moments where you and Jongho are together because he can never seem to control the longing expression on his face and Jongho would always send him a knowing look and he knew one day he would just crack like an egg under hydraulic pressure.

It seemed like his resolve wasn't faring any better because when he first came by the dorm, he saw you on top of Jongho's lap on the couch, kissing him all over his face and whining. He knew he should at least expect to be met with you and Jongho being all over each other, but maybe not to this extent. The sound of him coming in didn't seem to deter either of you from your... Activities.

Whatever dirty thoughts passed Yeosang's head were almost immediately pushed away however when he saw Jongho pushing you away from him gently and sighing, "I told you I can't do this tonight," he said which earned him a scoff from you, "You've been saying that for the past four days, Jongho and frankly I'm starting to can't do it anymore," you said before pushing yourself off of your boyfriend completely. "That is not even grammatical," Jongho chuckled and you only flipped him off before turning to retire to Jongho's room only to pause when you saw Yeosang.

Yeosang's heart skipped a beat when he saw your frown turn into a bright smile, squealing and hugging him tightly. "Raccoon!" You called out happily. Yeosang never knew why, but you had seemed to start calling him 'beefcake raccoon'. Well, you did explain that it was because he was, in your own words, 'beefy' and his hair for his latest comeback made him look like a raccoon so in a sense, your logic did make sense. What doesn't seem to make sense is how you only call him and your boyfriend with adorable yet odd animal names. To you, Jongho was your concrete bear and Yeosang was your beefcake raccoon which pissed Wooyoung and San off but maybe that's because San is a jealous cat and Wooyoung wanted to be called foxy mama and you scolded them for being so relentless.

Despite his nerves, Yeosang grinned and hugged you back gently, not being able to stop himself from inhaling the scent of your shampoo and enjoying your warmth against his body. "Hi (y/n), is something wrong?" Yeosang asked as you both pulled away. At the mention of something wrong, your frown returned and you snapped your head to glare at your boyfriend who was still just sitting there, smiling innocently as if he hadn't denied you sex for four days straight. "Oh something is very wrong but it's with your buddy Choi Jongho over there. I'm starting to think he's no longer turned on by me or by any vagina-owning creature on earth," you hissed. "Okay you can't say things like that because some animals also own vaginas and I'm not into bestiality," Jongho scolded. At that moment, Yeosang thought he should just go to Wooyoung's room because he felt like he was being dragged into people's business and as fun as it is talking about kinks that could possibly lead him to know yours, he was not about to delve into this particular discussion. Luckily, you threw your arms up in the air and turned to him again, "Seriously Yeosang, if you were Jongho, would you choose vocal recording over sex?" Yeosang's eyes widened and he almost blurted out that he would never choose anything over you but thankfully Jongho beat him into answering you, "I'm telling you, Hongjoong hyung has been riding my ass with this new demo and you know how he is when inspiration struck," Jongho tried to reason. With a roll of your eyes you walked away to Jongho's room but not before yelling out, "Well, at least something's riding you, you cocky bastard!"

Jongho seemed unbothered, chuckling by himself as he watched your figure retreat. "You're not following her?" Yeosang asked, looking back and forth between the couple. Jongho simply shook his head, "Nah, she needs time to just... Cool off and I need to resist the temptation because Hongjoong hyung will be pissed if I come into the studio tired and hoarse," Yeosang nodded in understanding because he does understand what Jongho meant, having been on the receiving end of Hongjoong's wrath in the past for being, in Hongjoong's words, unprofessional, unprepared, and unremarkably disrespectful to people's time. But still, Yeosang felt bad for you and he didn't like seeing you pissed like that which was shown by the way he stared in the direction you went to for quite some time before he excused himself to rest in Woyooung's room, missing the way Jongho was staring at him knowingly with a smug smirk on his face.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Yeosang thought that his involvement in your relationship with Jongho would end that night but when he woke up at 7 am the next day, he was met with the sight of Jongho's door open and as he passed the room, he saw Jongho tucking you in and stroking your hair and taking particular focus in the way his friend's shoulder drop when he sighed in disappointment.

Feeling like Jongho could use a moment, Yeosang just quietly tiptoed to the kitchen and helped himself to Wooyoung's stash of good coffee and started brewing.

Soon enough, Jongho showed up and sat down on the stool of the kitchen counter while opening his phone to check his text message, waiting for the manager to inform him that the car had arrived. Wordlessly, Yeosang poured himself and also Jongho a cup of coffee each. Jongho quietly thanked his older friend before sipping his cup in a slightly slumped position.

"Are you okay?" Yeosang asked, sensing something. Jongho sighed and nodded, "I feel bad for (y/n) for denying her sex and it's not like I don't want to, but I'm just not in the position to considering the state I would be in would not be conducive for recording and I really don't want to deal with Hongjoong hyung getting pissy at me," he sighed. Not knowing what else to say, Yeosand decided that he should at least be polite in this situation, "That's rough man, anything I can do?"

That particular question seemed to have turn a switch in Jongho's head because one moment he had a mopey look on his face, and the next, it was pure intrigue.

"You know what, hyung, I think there is something you can do," he said, finishing his coffee and straightening up. Sensing Jongho's resolve genuinely changing, Yeosang raised an eyebrow, "Okay? What can I do?" "Do you think you can accompany (y/n) and make sure she has all her needs met?" Jongho asked. The prospect of spending the day with you made Yeosang's eyes blink faster and heart beat harder. "S-sure, I guess. I have no schedules today so I can take her to wherever she wants," he ensured, clearing his throat when he felt like his tone showcased how excited he was even if it was only sightly. Jongho raised his eyebrows and smirked, realizing that Yeosang hadn't caught his drift, "You'll take her wherever she wants? What about taking her... However she wants?" Still not getting it, Yeosang nodded slowly, "Yes? I'll... Do whatever it is you want me to do to help your girlfriend feel better?"

Jongho couldn't believe how adorably innocent Yeosang was being. Knowing him for years, Jongho realized how some things could easily go over Yeosang's head by no fault of his own. He was just never introduced to the more scandalous side of life and it wasn't like he sought out information either.

Yeosang stared at Jongho in confusion as the younger chuckled and stood up, "Yes, that's... Correct in a sense I guess," Jongho then rounded the kitchen counter to stand in front of Yeosang. Jongho's phone buzzed and he momentarily checked the message he received before shoving his phone into his pocket, "But just to make sure both you and (y/n) get my point," All of a sudden, Jongho pulled Yeosang by his shirt and planted his lips on the older guy. Yeosang's eyes widened and his hands gripped the counter to regain control of his body because the impact from Jongho's sudden attack suddenly sent him reeling.

Initially, Yesoang was sent into a panicked and confused state because what the hell was Jongho doing? Why was he kissing him? What if you woke up and saw your boyfriend and one of his best friends kissing?

Correction, making out.

Somehow Jongho had managed to slip his tongue into Yeosang's mouth and at first, Yeosang wanted to protest and push him away. Heck, he had already gotten a hand on Jongho's shoulder but for some reason, he melted slightly into Jongho and as fucked up as it is, his mind drifted to thoughts that he knew he shouldn't be having. Those thoughts were mainly in the area of 'this is the tongue that had caressed and tasted (y/n)' and it got him hard faster than he cared to admit. The thought of you helped relax Yeosang slightly and before he realized it, he was kissing Jongho back with the same fervor which made Jongho unknowingly smirk, pleased that Yeosang was responding to him.

It wasn't until Jongho felt his phone buzzed again that he pulled away, realizing that he had to go. He couldn't even hide the satisfied look on his face when he saw how flushed Yeosang was after their little makeout session. For sure, you were going to like things just as much as he did should things go according to his plan. "Please give that to (y/n)," Jongho said all too simply as he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Still blear-eyed and slightly confused, Yeosang was trying hard to make his brain work. "W-what?" he managed out after he felt air filling back into his lungs. "Give that kiss to (y/n), the exact same way, please?" Jongho grinned, a little bit too happily.

Even with Jongho repeating himself, Yeosang was still trying to make sure of things, putting 2 and 2 was for him especially since he was practically mauled by Jongho. Seeing the state his friend was in, Jongho exhaled sharply and stood closer to Yeosang, "I am giving you full permission to do ABSOLUTELY WHATEVER it is my girlfriend wants you to do to satisfy her, okay? Starting with that kiss. Carte blanche, sky's your limit!" he then placed a hand on Yeosang's right shoulder and tilted his head, "Capische?" Just to make things more sexually confusing for Yeosang, Jongho smiled at him, showing off the gums that cleverly hid his perverted agenda.

"I- I- Capische, I guess?" Yeosang answered, kind of getting what Jongho expected off of him but also still in disbelief. "Awesome! Thanks hyung, I owe you this, I'll pay you back when I think of something, okay?" he said before leaving his friend with a pat on the chest and an extra squeeze that made Yeosang's eyes bulge out (and almost made him let out a sound but in fear of sounding like a car being honked, Yeosang somehow managed to keep the sound in. Things happened so fast all at once and it made him slightly dizzy. It was only 7 am and so many things already happened. Part of him thought that he was imagining things and that maybe he was still asleep and dreaming but he didn't even know where to justify himself dreaming about kissing his friend.

"Hey Sangie, what are you doing up so early?"

Yeosang snapped his focus back to reality at the sound of your voice but the blush returned to his cheeks when he saw you oh so casually walking your adorable self out of your boyfriend's room and trudging to sit down on one of the stools, right where your boyfriend had just set which effectively set his mind drifting to what had just happened.

"H-hey (y/n), morning! What are you doing up at 7 am?" he asked with nerves thickly laced in his voice. You furrowed your eyebrows and checked the clock on your phone before showing him the screen, "Sangie, it's 8.24," you pointed out. Yeosang had stood alone in the kitchen, so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't even realized that an hour had passed and that time had kept on going while he was making out with your boyfriend in the kitchen. So he turned his back on you after saying a simple 'oh', making it seem like he wasn't flustered by pouring you a cup of coffee before setting it in front of you and heading towards the couch to enjoy his now cold coffee.

For a moment, both you and he were silent, neither of you was sharing anything and just enjoying the silence and calmness of the atmosphere. Even when you moved to the couch when Yeosang turned the TV on, neither of you was conversing over anything substantial.

Well, until you brought up your boyfriend.

"Did Jongho say anything before he left this morning?"'

It was almost comical how Yeosang snapped his head in your direction and blinked twice. "I'm not quite sure but I think he mentioned Cate Blanchett?" You furrowed your eyebrows at his answer, "The lady who played Thor's older sister?" "Yes?" "You sound unsure..." you pointed out, crossing your arms on your chest and turning to look at him fully, "Tell me what Jongho told you and I know he told you something," you pressed.

Now Yeosang found himself between a hard and awkward place. The hard place is between his legs and the awkward place is the position of having to tell you that your boyfriend had practically told him to service you, who is his secret crush, should you request for him to. So he kept stammering, trying to find a way to tell you what he needed to tell you while you stared at him, making him even more nervous than he already was.

"I- I- Well, you see,"

Yeosang sat up straighter and shuffled closer to you, prompting you to do the same.

"W- we- I, Jongho and I, he-"

God, he wasn't even this nervous at his audition and frankly it was starting to annoy you.

"Just spit it out!"

"Fuck it,"

Before you know it, Yeosang pressed his lips on yours, his body no longer at the end of the couch but hovering above you with arms caging your head. The impact caused you to let out a sound of surprise as you were not expecting Yeosang to jump on you like that. There was a nagging voice in the back of your head that was screaming for you to push him away but there was another voice that spoke louder than the former voice. That voice belonged to your boyfriend and it came from the memory you had from earlier in the morning when he woke you up to tell you that he felt bad for disappointing you for the past four days and he was going to make it up to you. Then your brain tried to connect that memory with the text message your boyfriend sent to you, stating that his apology gift has been set up and you can claim it from Yeosang. Was this it?

"Jongho," Yeosang panted as he shifted his lips from yours down to your chin and jaw, "Left you a kiss," your eyes rolled back when he took your earlobe between his teeth and started nibbling, "With me, and he wanted me to deliver it for you," he finished before reconnecting your lips once again. You moaned into his mouth when he slipped his tongue and allowed your own to battle his for dominance.

The kiss was electrifying, breath-taking, and cunt clenching. You couldn't help but spread your legs wider so Yeosang could push your body completely flat on the couch. At this point, his crotch made in contact with yours and you could feel from your short sleeping shorts and his own sweatpants that he was long and hard. Another moan was sent into his mouth and the feeling of vibration made Yeosang grind his crotch onto you, taking it as the perfect moment to let you know the other part of the message.

"A-also," you whined when Yeosang pulled away slightly, resting his forehead on yours, "Jongho wanted me to... Satisfy all of your needs, however you want, wherever you want."

Looking into his eyes, you saw how his pupils were blown and the flush on his face made your heart burn slightly, realizing that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him at that moment. You were not sure if it was because of how needy you were from being denied sex for almost a week or if your teeny tiny crush on your boyfriend's friend was forced to bloom due to the circumstances. Of course, the circumstances are the fact that your boyfriend had allowed his friend to kiss and fuck you should you want to.

"So, Jongho told you to just kiss me or did he specify that you had to kiss me like that?" you teased, starting to relax and opening yourself up for Yeosang who had dropped his gaze from your eyes down to your lips. "He... Left me a kiss but what I gave you is partially from him but mostly from me," he muttered before he dove down to attach his lips to your neck. As he began sucking the sensitive skin, your body reacted automatically to him, your hands curled on the base strands of his hair as your heels hooked on the backs of thighs, allowing his crotch to press closer to yours. "Fuck, is this your way of telling me that you've been wanting to fuck me?" you moaned when his teeth grazed against your jugular, causing your cunt to clench and your spine to tingle. At that point, you were sure that you were soaked but you couldn't be too sure because the warmth pressing on your crotch could Yeosang's body warmth. "No, this is me telling you I didn't like to see you so disappointed because Jongho, your boyfriend, has been denying you sex so I want to help you feel better." As he spoke, you felt his hands creep up to the waistband of your shorts and your breath hitched in both anticipation and excitement, wanting to see just how much you both could go with the fact that you've already gotten your boyfriend's approval in the bag. Toying with the band whilst simultaneously teasing the skin underneath, Yeosang looked up at you with eyes full of hope and desire, "Can I help you feel better?"

It didn't take you long to nod, giving him the confirmation to proceed which he happily obliged by pulling your bottoms so hard he ripped your panties slightly. Yeosang misunderstood the widening of your eyes as a bad thing and he immediately cringed, apologizing profusely as he told you he felt bad and that he would buy you a new pair. So it surprised him when you pulled his face up and hungrily kissed him. "That was so hot, Yeosang, I'm totally okay with that," you said breathlessly, starting to grind your now bare cunt onto his crotch, delighting yourself at the feeling of something hard pushing back against your needy clit. "Jongho has been the only person to be able to do that and fuck did he make such a good decision entrusting you," you whimpered, pulling on Yeosang's bottom lip needily.

Hearing the way you talked about him made Yeosang's heart soar and he suddenly felt the need to show you just how much exactly he had been thinking about you and pleasing you. Confidently, Yeosang pressed two of his fingers against your pussy, effectively trapping your clit between his two digits. His eyes never left your face, enjoying the ecstasy-ridden look on your face as you threw your head back whilst a high-pitched gasp escaped your lips. Wanting to see that expression again, Yeosang began massaging your clit between his two fingers whilst adding more stimulation by moving his fingers up and down. The pleasure was starting to build in you slowly but surely, adding the fact that it was Yesoang who was giving you pleasure and your mind was sent to a pleasure-induced haze. Had it not been for Yeosang's body between your legs, you would have successfully clamped your legs shut.

A shaky breath left Yeosang's lips when he noticed you reacting positively towards his ministration. To the people who would not understand, they would say Yeosang was weird for reading into your reaction so much but how can Yeosang start to describe how much he loved seeing the way your hips rolled onto his hands? Seeing you seeking more of his touch was a whole other level of satisfaction that Yeosang never even knew existed until he saw it with his own eyes. Between your face and glistening cunt, Yeosang couldn't choose which part he liked best. Then again, he had yet to have the chance to feel his aching cock nesting inside your core so he'd have to reserve his decision for after you came on him.

The dynamic of your expression was beyond anything Yeosang could explain because once his fingers slipped inside you, your face contorted to showcase even more of your ecstasy. "You like that, princess?" Yeosang teased as he curled his fingers inside you, caressing the sensitive walls ever so gently that caused your cunt to leak more arousal and your body to shake from the pleasure. "Fuck yes, I do! Jongho, God bless his physique, is chunky and big but so is his fingers but you, Yeosang- Fuck! You and your damn long fingers are reaching so deep inside me- fuck!" you whined, hips rising as Yeosang's finger pulled all the way out only to slam them back in, revelling in how slick you were when they felt your juices staining his palm. "Long, huh? So... Why do you call me a beefcake?" Yeosang teased, lowering himself closer to your cunt which surprisingly made you a bit shy as seen from the way you tried to close your legs. Of course, Yeosang wouldn't let that happen so he used his upper body strength and directed it to his palms, forcing your legs to stay open and not even caring that your stream of slick was trickling down on the couch. "Excuse you, Yeosang, you're not just a beefcake, you're MY beefcake raccoon," you scoffed as you maintained eye contact with Yeosang in faux confidence, oblivious that your stance was being betrayed by your quivering pupils and blush. "Yours, huh? Is that what I am?" Yeosang tried to bite back the grin on his lips as best he could but it was futile as he couldn't even hide the way his hips grind onto your shin when he heard you referring to him as yours. "I don't know about you but fuck, I love the sound of that," he said shakily before diving down to lick a fat stripe from your drenched hole up to nibble on your clit.

That was the last straw. The teasing, the sexual frustration, and seeing Yeosang between your legs had fucked up your brain so much that all you wanted was him.

Sitting up slightly, you somehow managed to pull Yeosang up by the collar of his shirt and push him so he was the one on his back. The frantic movement of your hands pulling Yeosang's sweatpants and underwear paired with the manic, almost crazed look on your face was absolutely thrilling. "I need you inside me Yeosang, please, I want you to fill me up with cock and cum so bad, I need it now!" you whimpered, pussy drenching the fabric of his thigh so embarrassingly bad that it caused Yeosang's cock to twitch as it was released from its confines.

"Use me then, after all, that's why I'm here."

It was the last confirmation you need before you all too easily slip his cock inside of your cunt. For a moment, the both of you only revelled at the feeling of each other for the first time. Yesoang was enjoying how warm you were and how much he liked the sharp contrast between the cool air and your warm core, the sudden change forced the air to be knocked out of his lungs and his eyes to roll to the back of his head. You, on the other hand, were struggling with the fact that Yeosang was reaching inside you so deep that your legs were starting to shake. As crude as it seemed, your immediate reaction was to notice the difference between him and Jongho. It wasn't like you were ranking or making a pros and cons list in your head, you were just noticing how different they pleasured you. Jongho was definitely shorter but girthier, it was always a struggle to take him in as he filled you up almost immediately and even once you got used to the feeling of fullness, you still struggled to move your own body so usually, Jongho would do the work. But Yeosang, he was slimmer but definitely longer, something you didn't take into consideration on the first impact as once he was sheathed inside of you completely, you felt his tip kissing your cervix and it was a new feeling that you had yet to be accustomed to. Whether it was due to his size or the pool you had created down there, you found yourself able to move on your own a lot easier and that made your brain go fuzzy.

Once you both got used to the novelty of feeling each other so intimately, you began fucking yourself on Yeosang's cock. Right off the bat, you were moving so vigorously and Yeosang could only stare with a slacked jaw. "Fuck, Yeosang your cock is hitting me so deep!" you whined, throwing your head back from the feeling and clenching down on him. Yeosang never had much of a comparison material as he was never one to seek out physical relations so often. But even then he knew that the level of pleasure he was experiencing was only achievable because he was getting it from you. Yeosang had to grip your hips to ground him back to reality because he was sure that if he hadn't, he would've definitely thought that he was dreaming. But the feeling of you grounding yourself on top of him was surely something his brain couldn't manipulate no matter how much he tried. And when you changed you changed your position, his brain went haywire. You initially had your knees on either side of his hips and the sight of you rubbing your needy cunt on him was something he could never forget. But then you paused to prop your legs by bending your knees and leaning back with your hands on his muscular thighs. The feeling of Yeosang's flexing muscles beneath your fingers honestly made your cunt clench and weep slightly and Yeosang couldn't help but take note of it.

The very moment you got settled in your new position, you immediately started bouncing yourself on top of Yeosang, impaling yourself multiple times on his cock. If your rhythm was vigorous before, this was... Maniacal. You were jackhammering yourself like a crazed person trying to seek relief. As sick as it was, for some reason, Yeosang loved the way you were basically using his cock for your own release as if he was a toy that you oh so graciously choose to relieve the building ache and need from being denied by your own boyfriend. Your stamina was proof of your desperate need to get sexual release and the way you showcased it could only be described by him as an art performance. "Shit, you're so hot," Yeosang hissed on a particular snap of your hips, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass before his right hand travelled up to your (Jongho's) shirt and grabbing the bottom as he pulled them up to reveal your torso, "Bite this for me please, baby, I wanna see your body, I NEED to see your body," he whimpered, his finger caressing your chin as he tuck the bottom part of your shirt between your teeth. You bit back a grin when he called you baby, feeling giddy all of a sudden but you tried to play it cool. He let out a shuddered breath when he noticed you weren't wearing any bra and frankly, he couldn't help but think about how lucky Jongho was to be able to feel you pressing up to him every night if he wanted to. You moaned and clenched down on him, "Fuck, I didn't peg you for a tits man, Yeosang," you teased but took a moment to tweak your left nipple, "Do you like my tits?" you asked, purposefully moaning and rolling your hips. "No," he huffed as he placed his right hand on your crotch, thumb pressed on your clit which caused you to jolt slightly "I like you," he smirked cheekily.

The confession was rather surprising but you noticed it made your stomach to flutter. Egged by his profession, you started fucking yourself on Yeosang's cock again, this time, the stimulation from his thumb on your clit made your movements harsher but messier. Neither of you could speak clearly, not that you wanted to, you were enjoying the sounds Yeosang was making and he was in a trance as he stared at the way your pussy was swallowing his cock whole. "Greedy baby," he hissed, finally finding the ability to snap his hips back to meet yours, "Taking my cock so good, making sure I'd remember your pussy always." The impact from his hips successfully made your footing falter as you found your right leg slipping and your body tumbling forward, your bare chest met Yeosang's clothed one.

"Fuck me, you got some talented hips there," you giggled, immediately adjusting your thrusts to the new position and enjoying the friction of his shirt on your tits. Moaning, Yeosang held you tight with one arm as the one that was on your clit moved to his face, "Nothing you couldn't escape from your beefcake raccoon, right?" he smirked while licking your arousal clean from his fingers.

With a sharp exhale from you, you planted your lips back onto him, tasting yourself on his tongue before moving your hips even faster. You were thankful that your boyfriend had forced you to ride his thighs so much that you had somehow gained the core strength to ride Yeosang like a champion. "Y-Yeosang, fuck- I'm close!" you whimpered against his mouth, your movements getting sloppy as the tension in your cunt increased, now trying its best to reach climax. Yeosang nodded at your admission, hands moving to hold you by your thighs so that you would still be wide open for him. "I'll make you cum, (y/n), don't worry," he pecked your lips before dropping his forehead on your shoulder, "I'll make sure you're satisfied."

Your hands found purchase on the armrest behind Yeosang and on his shoulder, trying to hold onto your sanity that was being torn apart by each thrust Yeosang delivered. Your head fell slack and your eyebrows furrowed as you felt your climax at the tip of your tongue. Yeosang was trying his best to get you to cum and with the way your walls were hugging him in a vice, he knew it wouldn't take long to push you over the edge. "Y-yeosang!" you whined, your hips now stilling as you reached your climax with a shake of your body from how intense it felt. Yeosang held your legs open for him and his hips never stopped, allowing you to ride out your high while also trying to reach his own.

Though you were induced into a pleasure state, you were still thinking about Yeosang and fuck if there was not one thing in your mind.

"In me, Yeosang, finish in me! I need to be filled!" You managed out, practically begging to be stuffed as how your boyfriend usually would. Though it was Yeosang fucking you, you couldn't help but let the thought of both he and Jongho filling you up with their cum flash through. The mere thought sent shivers down your spine and your hips to suddenly roll.

Yeosang was trying his best to not lose control because Jongho hadn't said anything about allowing him to cum inside you. "A-are you su-re, (y/n)? I can just- fuck, I can just jerk myself off," he assured you. But you whined and started peppering kisses along his jawline, "Please fill me up, Yeosang, you said you- ah! You had to please me, right?" you pouted.

A grunt rumbled through Yeosang's chest and without much complaint, he began thrusting into you in shorter but more precise movements. The overstimulation was trying to get you but you tried your best to hold on by distracting yourself. Your left hand found purchase on Yeosang's right peck and your fingers automatically squeeze the soft flesh and your fingers toy the stiff peaks with each movement.

As it turns out, that seemed to set off Yeosang because suddenly he held your body flush against him and you felt his cum filling you up in spurts as his cock twitched inside you. The sensation made you let out a low hum and your head rolled to nest on the crook of Yeosang's neck.

For a moment, you both could only lay there, resting on each other as you tried to catch your breath. Your haze was dwindling down into a daydream and your body was adjusting so you could rest after the session you just had. Though you had Yeosang under you, you couldn't help but think of your boyfriend and how after this, you're going to need to thank him. But when Yeosang readjusted his position so that his head was resting against the armrest and your head was on his pecks, your thoughts shifted. You propped your arms on Yeosang's chest and your chin on them, smiling up at him, "What got you grinning?" Yeosang asked but he was returning your smile with his. You shrugged, "Not sure, maybe it was post-orgasm bliss," and you wanted to add that it could also be the fact that he had just confessed that he liked you in the middle of sex but you didn't want to make things awkward so you kept that little jewel to yourself.

"So," Yeosang cleared his throat, "Are you feeling happy and satisfied now?" he asked, suddenly remembering the task his friend had given him. You pursed your lips, momentarily thinking of an answer before a mischievous glint past your eyes. "I think... Not quite," you replied, your legs suddenly caging Yeosang's hips which effectively rubbed his softened cock the right way as seen from the way it was starting to twitch back to life. Taking the hint, Yeosang's tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip in hunger.

"Well, I did promise your boyfriend that I would do anything to make you happy, didn't I? We'll just have to keep doing it until you're completely... Satisfied."

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