#So I guess they all got an equal shot?

[iratusmus]

outfit swap

[smut-slut69]

"F*ck your stupid, sexy Miniskirt"

How the Hashira react to your new Mini Skirt. Except Muichiro Ofc, I'm not a weirdo

Modern au, Hashira x fem!Reader

Tengen Uzui

Bro's an ass man and nothing will EVER convince me otherwise

So obviously, when he see's your ass stuck in the tiniest little skirt when you were heading out with your friends for a night.

He couldn't help the way his big hands accidently grazed your ass as he gave you a hug goodbye

And how would he have known his one kiss goodbye would turninto a flurry of sloppy kisses

And he definitely couldn't help the way his member hardened with the need to be deep inside of you

“Fuck baby, m’gonna be late” you moaned when Tengen’s cock slipped past your entrance. You weren’t even sure how you had gotten yourself pressed up against your front door, skirt riding up your ass and nipples rock hard underneath your rhinestoned shirt. Uzui had said he just wanted a kiss goodbye and that was all you ever intedned for it to be, but god it felt so good to get swept up in his big arms, with his equally large hands roaming all over your body. And now you had his thick cock stuffing you full, over and over again, smooshing your face against the wall with every thrust. You let out what was intended to be a sigh but came out a moan as you gripped onto the bigger hand gripping your hips. Guess your friends would have to wait a while.

Giyu Tomioka

I don't know why so many of y'all think this man is a dom

Please, he's never had any sort of sexual interaction in his life until he met you

He's still learning about his own feelings, let alone his sexual attraction

So you can't blame him for his reaction to all the skirts you tried on in front of him after dragging him with you to the mall to help you shop

After all, who wouldn't get bricked up after seeing their girlfriend's fat ass peaking out of miniskirts of every color in the universe

“Aww, my poor baby’s cock is rock hard” you cooed as you settled yourself between your boyfriend's legs. Tomioka just stared at you in awe as your manicured hands grasped his member, pretty glossed lips gliding over his cock. You had done this to him a couple of times before but he swore never got used to the feeling of you taking him in your mouth, sloppily sucking his cock, and bobbing your head up and down so fast he had to bite his hand to handle the stimulation. He honestly thought he was a goner when your tongue came to tease the slit of his tip, but when he peered through his lashes at the mirror across from him in the dressing room. His cock twitched and cum shot out and onto your face when he saw your red miniskirt riding up, giving him the perfect view of your fingering your wet cunt.

Kyojuro Rengoku

Kyojuro would hoenstly be confused when he felt the overwhelming need to fuck you every time you walked past him in a mini skirt

He believes he has a good sense of self-control

Or at least enough to allow him to look at his girlfriend in a skirt without salivating like a horny teenager

But there was something about you in that damn skirt that made him lose every ounce of control in his body

Stars, that skirt just made him want to fuck the shit out of you

“Fuck~. . .ah” you moaned out, eyebrows furrowed up in pleasure and eyes rolling back in your head as Kyojuro’s cock rammed into you faster and harder than you think it ever has. Usually, your man was loving and kind. He took his time when he said fucked you, no, made love to you. But this was different. Completely different from the normal. “Oh my god K-kyo, slow down” you cried out. Kyojuro could hear all your cries, he could see your legs quivering on the verge of giving out. But he couldn’t find it in him to let go of the death grip he had on your hips. His eyes glued to your creamy entrance and your essence that covered his cock as he pushed himself balls-deep into you. And fuck, that skirt just barely covering the fat of your ass was driving him even crazier. “I’m sorry baby, I-I can’t” he breathed. “I think I’m gonna cum in this pretty cunt again”

Mitsuri Kanroji

Mitsuri is never beating the bottom allegtions

I mean, this girl is never on top

But when she saw you chilling at home in one of her skirts that were a little too short for you

Your thighs looking ever so plump underneath the pretty black fabric

Mitsuri felt drawn to the sight, seating herself next to you

Smooth, long fingers tracing over your thighs and farther up your leg

You panted and threw your head back with a moan as your girlfriend's long, slender fingers drilled in and out of your cunt, curling to hit that perfect spot inside you. Mirtusi let out a moan of her own when she felt your cunt flutter around her fingers in a way she hadn’t felt in such a long while. She had almost forgotten how drenched your pussy got, how much you really did love when she took control. Mitsuri drew closer and laid supple kisses along your throat, licking along the flesh there and admiring the way your cunt gushed from the sensation. She couldn't believe she hadn't taken the chance to treat your sweet cunt right. But she would be sure to now, determined to make you finish all over her fingers and maybe . . .just maybe her tongue later.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

You make him hard no matter what you do

Like you could breathe and you'd see little Sanemi poking through his pants

So seeing you bent over in the laundry room, wearing one of your old skirts that barely fit you anymore because all your clothes were in the laundry

Had him palming his cock through his sweat pants

He simply was not at blame for what happened next

“Fuck S-Sanemi I gotta put bleach in t-the, Fuck- washing machine”*You gritted out, trying to free your hands from his stronghold. Sanemi strengthened his grip on your wrists, landing a sharp blow on your ass as he plowed his cock into you. You moaned, your legs buckling underneath you from the strength of his thrusts. “You’re wearing this tiny ass skirt and expect me not to pound this fuckin cunt?” he spoke. You roll your eyes, in annoyance. “You’re the worst '' you whined. Sanemi just laughed at you, peering down at where you two were connected. He was always amazed at how sloppy his girl’s pussy was, wet and leaking all over him and your thighs. “You'll like me a lot better if you keep creamin on me like that sweetheart”

Gyomei Himejima

Since Gyomei is blind, one of his biggest love languages with you is physical touch

You all love experiencing each other with your hands

Clinging onto each other while you kiss

Feeling each others bodies are thoroughly

It is definitely one of Gyomei's favorite ways to connect with you

So imagine his excitement when you said you had a surprise for home, that involved physical touch

;)

You giggled as you grasped Gyomei's strong hands, guiding them to feel the mold of your figure under the surprise you were wearing. “Is this a skirt?” he asked when you let his hands explore independently. “Mhmm” you hum, groaning a little when his hands came to squeeze at your ass, “I bought a short one and I thought you’d like it,” you told him. Gyomei leaned farther into you, letting his hands travel under your skirt and onto your pantie-clad slit. He grinned, feeling the fabric already dampened with your juices. Using his middle finger, he rubbed tight circles on your clit and prodded at your entrance gently. You used his shoulders to brace yourself as he picked up his pace. Panties soaking through from how wet he was making you.“I’m gonna cum” you whimpered. Your orgasm was always unbearably quick with him. Gyomei smiled, flicking at your clit just a little faster to push you over the edge. “Go on my love, let me feel you”

Obanai Iguro

Obanai loves your body in everything you wear

He likes to show you off really

Which is why he let you come with him to a club with a few of his friends

the new mini skirt he bought you clinging to your thick curves

He loved the skirt on you

What he didn't love

Was the looks his friends were giving you

Their eyes staying glues to your backside

His jealousy only grew throughout the night

Which is how you ended up bent over in the club's bathroom

Hanging on to the stall walls for dear life

With how many times Obanai had fucked you, you would think you would get used to the sheer size of him. But everytime proved wrong. He was so long that he reached that spongey spot inside of you every time he fucked into you, and he was so fucking thick you didn’t know how you were handling it. Especially now, when his thrusts were mean and jealousy fuelled, leaving you with no choice but to squirt with every thrust. You knew you wouldn’t be able to scramble away if you tried, but you couldn’t help but instinctively push off of his cock. He rolled his eyes at you, almost finding your attempts at getting free humorous. Grabbing a fistful of your hair, he pulled you right back on his shaft. Obanai knew he was being far, far rougher than usual, but until he heard a safe word from that pretty little mouth of yours, he’d pound into you as much as he wanted. “Fuck are you running from” he gritted out, “You wanna let my friends stare at what belongs to me” he spoke. “Wanna act like a fucking slut, then i’ll fuck you like the two dollar whore you are” he sneered.

Shinobu Kocho

Shinobu's a munch

Like, she loves eating you out so much

If She's tired, she'll suck on your clit to lull her to sleep

If She's excited, she'll pour it out while licking your slit

If She's angry, she'll take it out on your poor pussy

Today was one of the days where she was exhausted

Having just come home from work all she could think about was you and your sweet cunt

When she walked into your shared bedroom, she saw you sleeping

You mustv'e come home from hanging out with your friends as your outfit would have only been appropriate for a club setting

Shinobu was going to let you sleep, she truly was

But staring at your thick thighs, spilling out of your tiny little skirt made her drop down onto her knees

Shinobu chuckled as she spread your legs, your bare pussy staring back at her, you had no panties on. “Slut” she mumbled to herself. She let her thumb trace over your cunt, eyes flickering between your most private part and your face to see if you were still asleep. She leaned down to lick a long stripe from your hole to your clit, watching as your face scrunched up in your sleep. As she got lost in the feeling of eating you out, her eyes fluttered shut and her lips sucked at your clit. Not caring if she woke you up or not. It was only when her thin digits slid into your entrance that you jolted awake, instinctively moaning in a sleepy haze. Your moans turned to whines as your hips ground up into her mouth and down onto her fingers. Shinobu barely noticed you were cumming as she continued to lick on your clit until your hand came to tiredly push her head off of you. She looked up, licking her lips, “Shh baby” she said, kissing your thighs, “Go back to sleep and let me keep eating”

[cyborg-franky]

Their reaction when you give them your number

Some headcanons!

SFW GN Reader Chars: Ace, Robin, Marco, Kid, Killer, Buggy

Ace

He’s been flirting back and forth with you the entire time you’ve been working. He came in for his brother's friend's birthday but has spent more time talking to you and honestly? You didn’t mind. He was cute, funny, and very sweet. His flirting was a little awkward at times, you guessed as handsome as he was he had some self-esteem issues. But the more you talked with Ace the more his confidence grew.

It was late and pretty quiet, he chatted to you about his brothers as he leaned on the bar, you cleaned and got ready to close, just enjoying his voice, and how genuinely caring he seemed. It was then you grabbed a piece of paper, wrote your number on it, and slid it across the bar.

“What’s that? How much of a tab did me and those idiots wrack up…” He hummed and flipped the paper over, his eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up when he saw the number. You couldn't help the sly smile on your face when you could see the blush on his cheeks, even in the low light of the bar.

You sure hoped he’d call. He chuckled and put it in his pocket, trying to act cool about it even with his cheeks on fire.

Robin

She had to have been the most beautiful woman to have ever set foot in your store. The way she walked around in her summer dress, the fabric flowy in the breeze, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear as she picked up a huge heavy book, her eyes scanning each with a smile on her lips.

You felt entranced and intimidated by her in equal measure. Each movement was poised and elegant. She glanced over her shoulder and saw you staring at her, the sparkle of mischief in her eyes reached the sly smirk. 

Grabbing an arm full of books so big you could murder a man with she set them down on the counter and you had to try and remember how to talk again. “Is it okay if I buy a coffee and read one of these?” You nodded, she could have robbed you and you would have thanked her.

As she paid for her books you quickly wrote your number on a note and slipped it in one of the books as you placed it in a bag for her. She bought her coffee and books and sat down on one of the big armchairs. You gripped the edge of the counter when you noticed she went right for the book you’d put your number in.

Robin saw the piece of paper and shot you the most wickedly sinful smile you felt your heart would explode.

Marco

He came into your work at least once a week, maybe more, and his order was always the same. He was a creature of habit but never boring. You always stood and chatted with him between his order and bringing it to him. He was polite and handsome and always had this lazy smile on his face that you found yourself looking forward to seeing.

Marco always had a kind word for you, would comment on your hair, how you wore it that day, how your new shirt was nice and suited you. He was full of compliments but he never came across as creepy. You adored his voice, his laugh, and how he always had a crazy story about his friends.

You felt like you knew them. 

One night he came in with some of those said friends, a rowdy bunch but just like him, polite and chatty. You set down the tray of drinks and Marco leaned back in his seat taking his. “They make the best drinks, it’s why I come back all the time,” Marco said before sipping his drink.

“Yeah, right, that's the only reason.” Thatch teased and got a nudge. You didn’t know what the man meant by that but Marco met your eye and gave you a sheepish smile.

The group all started to leave and the man with the big hair, Thatch, came over to pay the bill. “Hey, I think you and Marco might have a sweet spot for one another, sorry if I’m misreading that but… maybe you could give me your number, to pass on?”

You blinked, processing what he was asking before grabbing a coaster and writing it on. Thatch paid and practically ran to Marco and brandished the coaster at him. “Got you a present!” Marco looked at it, then back at you. You watched as the smirk on his face grew and he placed it in his pocket.

Kidd

His entire group was loud but you didn’t mind. You were used to his sort coming to this bar, parking their motorbikes outside, and stomping into the bar with their heavy boots and loud voices. They’d been polite enough to you though.

Serving them rounds of beers when they raised their hands, always paying. You knew this group pretty well by now. The red-haired man who was the leader spoke with you casually. He leaned on the bar and laughed at jokes and comments yelled over the room at him.

“Got anything fun planned this weekend?” You asked as you handed him another beer, he took a swig before thanking you. You could see him thinking over your question, you always had a feeling he and his gang got up to all sorts. Maybe he was debating on what he could tell you.

“Nah, unless you wanna finally fess up to being into me an’ wanna hang.” He said, the smirk on his painted lips, showing his teeth. He was cocky and overconfident but God daaamn did it work.

“What makes you think I’m into you?” You asked, well, he was right but still.

“Babe, I just know, so gunna give me your number or do I have to beg?” Kidd asked with a gleam in his eyes. You loved feeling you had all the power in this situation. You met his eye before ripping off a piece of a poster hanging up behind you and putting your number on.

“You don’t have to beg, this time.” You chuckled and handed it to him. He laughed loudly and put it in his jacket pocket, looking smug.

He’d won.

Killer

Killer came into your shop every other week, always for something for his bike. It could be a check-up, a new decal, a sticker or just to get someone to clean it. He was a man of few words but he was pleasant to be around. His small talk was never dull or seemed forced, he enjoyed hearing your stories and learning about you.

Sometimes you even got to hear his voice, get to learn about his life; How he was part of a group who drove around together. You were very intrigued by him. The way he’d take off his helmet and all that blonde hair would come tumbling out, you could have sworn the world become slow motion whenever he did that.

He was gorgeous. 

“Going for a drive this weekend?” You asked when he set down his helmet, one of the mechanics working on his bike already. He shook his head “Just thought I heard something when I’d started her,” he said and stared across the room.

Killer didn’t leave, didn’t go for a walk, instead while his bike was being checked he simply stood and talked to you. It was nice, he was a good guy. The mechanic came in and handed you the paperwork. You looked it over.

“Good news! The small issue has been fixed and since your in here all the time we won’t charge the normal rate,” your heart was beating when you sneakily wrote your number on the paper and handed it to him. 

He said his goodbyes and walked away, reading over the paper before he noticed the number, he turned and looked at you. Wordlessly, effortlessly cool he just gave you the thumbs up and grinned.

Buggy

He was a strange guy, how he seemed to think he was so slick every time he came in. Acting like this wasn’t the 18th time he’d been in this week. He was strange, sure, but he was cute and no one had made you laugh so much. Sometimes you didn’t think he meant to be funny on purpose, his charm was just a silly guy.

But as goofy as he came across he was still unreasonably handsome and had his own brand of charisma that had you so taken with him. He came in on his way back from work and asked for his regular order, which you knew by heart now. 

He would go on about his day, complaining about someone called Shanks that he worked with. The way he told his stories was so over the top and so hilarious that you couldn’t help but stand there chuckling and hanging on to his every word.

“So yeah, that dickhead set me back like 20 minutes.” He mumbled and sipped his shake, eating a few fries “Well, hopefully, your weekend will be better.” you said as you refilled the napkin holder.

“I’ll still be in though, I gotta get my fix.” He said and held up his drink, you weren’t sure if that was all he meant either. “Oh no, I won’t be in, I have the day off.”

He seemed crestfallen at that news, deflating in his seat with a frown. “Ah..” he mumbled as he stuffed more fries into his mouth. “But maybe we can arrange something?” you pulled out a napkin and wrote down your number, setting it next to him.

Buggy had been drinking at that moment, he stared at your number and snorted, his shake and the straw shooting to the back of his throat, causing him to splutter, some of his drink coming out of his nose as he became a flustered mess.

You laughed and watched him grab at handfuls of napkin to clean himself, wheezing as he did so, trying and failing to calm himself down, he croaked out “Sounds great…”

[foone]

Your best guess is that you've been in this time loop for something north of 15 years. You've lived that day, April 9th, 1997, something like 6000 times. You think... The second most ironic thing about being in this time loop* is that you have ADHD, and time blindness has always been something you've suffered with.

The time loop hasn't helped. You'll really get into a book, and don't look up from it until it's yesterday. Or, earlier today? Or tomorrow, it's all the same day. You wake up in your bed at 8:27, having slept through your alarm, no matter what happens. You've had plenty of time to do all the classic time loop things: told everyone (they forget the next day), kissed everyone (a surprising number of people turn out to be up for itl), tried to run (you made it all the way to Memphis one day, but it didn't make any difference), tried to make everything perfect and right (harder than you'd think, and there's nothing obvious that needs fixing), and gotten yourself exploded and shot and run over. You even made it into orbit once, NASA still swearing at you on the radio the whole way up. You've robbed all the local banks, kidnapped the mayor, and stolen half the stuff in the town, just to see what people have. Why not? It's hard to have a sense of morality when there are no repercussions to any actions, at least none that last more than 24 hours.

You convinced a scientist to shoot neutrinos at you once, thanks to something you'd read in a book on time. Didn't seem to make any difference, though you could swear the next day felt different, in some hard to define way.

You've gotten into a rhythm of starting each day and just walking out your front door, to visit a different place in the city, and knock on their door. If they're home, you ask questions, then use the answers next time to get further. If not, you let yourself in and see what their house looks like from the inside.

Even their shocking crimes no longer can shock you. Mr. Stevens is a burgler, Jenny J. is halfway through murdering her husband, Alex over on 5th street has a basement full of photos they shouldn't have, and more neighbors than you'd think are cooking meth or growing cannabis in their little backyard sheds or closets.

You can go to the police, you can confront them, you can explose them, or you can get a weapon and go all vigilante on them... It doesn't matter in the long run (and for you, the long run is very short indeed). They'll be fine the next morning, back at it again like nothing happened.

You wake up that same Wednesday morning, put on some clothes, and walk out the door. You got into a gimmick of crossing the road with your eyes closed: you know where the cars are, and if you keep the same pace, they definitely won't hit you. Besides, if you do, you wake up back in your bed. Big woop.

But you don't make it to the road this time. You trip, falling on the hard concrete of the sidewalk. What the hell? Your arms ache from catching yourself, and you have to suppress the time-looper instinct of "I hurt. Restart the loop!",at least until you figure out what happened.

You look back and there's a sneaker sitting on the sidewalk. A perfectly normal shoe, just a little skuffed up. A bit down the sidewalk, there's another, the other foot presumably.

You have a moment of equal parts panic and elation. You're out of the loop? You're out of the loop! This might be Thursday.

You gather yourself from the sidewalk and run back up the path to your door. You open the newspaper... April 9th. This is still the same day. You look back at the road, seeing the patterns of crossing cars you've seen thousands of times before. You listen, and your neighborhood sounds right. You can hear Timothy down the road yelling about baseball, so it's not 9:14 yet.

This isn't a new day. This is the day. This is your day. So why is something different? What, a partial time loop? And almost time loop? Most things are the same, but not all? It makes no sense.

You hear yelling down the road. You jog towards it, as an out of place sound just doesn't happen in your day. Around the corner there's a police officer shouting at a woman who is rapidly disrobing and flinging her discarded clothes at the officer, who is shouting at her and his radio. So far, she seems to be winning, but she's about out of linen ammunition.

You realize you don't recognize her. She's not one of the people you know, and you know everyone. She's someone new, the very anthesis of what a time loop is about. That, combined with recognizing that charicatistic disdain for consequences makes you gasp. My God... She's another time looper. She's done this day before, and it's just repeated, and now she's doing everything to see what happens. You're not alone in this crowded city anymore! You run towards her, eager to introduce yourself.

* Themost ironic thing about being in this time loop is that every copy of Groundhog Day at your local Blockbuster is checked out.

[cultofdixon]

Within Your Warmth

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Y/N finally found a place to sleep and Daryl was going to hit anybody that disturbs her • SFW • TW: Sleep Deprivation

Requested by: Anon

“You coming to the bonfire Rick has going on later?” Rosita asks Y/N while she was in the middle of her fifth task of the day, pantry restock.

“Yeah, if I’m not too exhausted”

“Well there will be alcohol. The new dude Greyson found a case of beers on his run the other day with Eugene.” Rosita hopped up on the only stool in the pantry watching her best friend work. “Even Eugene found a good scotch”

“Now that’s what I’m here for” Y/N laughs lightly finishing the canned goods and about to start putting away the new jarred stuff from Oceanside. “Do you know if Daryl is gonna be there?”

Y/N could sense the smirk on her face resulting in a groan as Rosita quickly popped off the stool bringing herself up behind her bestie.

“The Daryl Dixon? The one you’ve been crushing on since longer before I came along?”

“Yes. That Daryl Dixon”

“So…if Daryl were to come then you’d for sure come?”

“I guess—“ and with that Rosita left the pantry, leaving a confused Y/N to continue doing what she was doing before heading onto the next task.

The bonfire was happening at Alexandria. They rotate through the communities every couple days to keep the connection between their families…even if Maggie doesn’t want to step foot in Alexandria as long as he lives. Daryl was currently residing in the Sanctuary after being tasked to keep an eye on the community which felt more like a punishment and only two people understood that. Carol and Y/N. When Rosita left to find him, she half expected him to be inside yelling at someone. Instead he was working on the gardening plots with a green thumb from the Kingdom and a few Saviors that turned for good.

“Dixon” Rosita brought on her tough exterior when talking to the man in hopes that her asks would be given a positive answer. “I have to ask you something”

“If it’s about the bonfire bullshit, I’m going”

“It’s about——“ Rosita paused, relaxing her shoulders. “Wait. Seriously?”

“Rick asked, so did Aaron. You just missed them” Daryl handed the hoe off to one of the Saviors so he could get close to Rosita. “Why are you askin’?”

“It’s more so trying to get another to go tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Y/N said she’d go if you do…so does that confirm the mutual feeling that brews between the two of you?” Rosita smirks trying to get more out of the archer but he continued to have the same deadpan look from before. Her shoulders instantly slumped and the smirk faded. “Alright, loverboy…I’ll see you tonight”

“Mhm” Daryl let out a small chuckle before returning to work while Rosita headed off.

As the night came and the bonfire was starting, Daryl leaned against the picnic table holding all the goodies they brought out scanning around the intimate event in search for Y/N. Who so happened to be the last to arrive even if she lives in the vicinity.

“Where the hell have you been?” Rosita pulled Y/N aside when she was about to make small talk with someone.

“Uh. My watch shift? I just got relieved”

“What the hell?”

“What? I wasn’t gonna halt my work load for the day to doll myself up for a man who’s probably equally as tired as I am”

“Well hate to disappoint but the man is question” Rosita gently took a hold of her chin, directing her to look at Daryl while he was in the middle of a conversation with Gabriel. “Seems to have showered and dressed nicer than usual. I wonder who it’s for”

Y/N can’t deny that Daryl did indeed look extremely well put together. Did everything they used to beg him to do when they first arrived to Alexandria.

“I’m gonna go see how he’s doing” Y/N shot a smile his way which definitely caught his attention, but when she parted from Rosita to make her way over…she got stopped by Ezekiel and couldn’t just cut her friend off.

Daryl felt his small smile falter when she got pulled away not just once, but a handful of times throughout the night. He hasn’t even seen her eat or drink anything. Y/N was very popular that night and everybody wanted to talk to her, he wanted too as well but no window opened.

Until she was sat in one of the outdoor chairs by the fire, Daryl instantly took the empty one beside her and watched her tiredly look at him.

“Sorry was this—-“

“I’ve been trying to talk to you all night…” Y/N sighs, finally relaxing and keeping her attention on him. “I miss you”

The heat instantly made itself present on the tips of his ears as he tried to fight back a smile.

“Missed yea too sunshine”

The two caught up on what the other has missed regarding their community, ending with Y/N talking about how much Rick is an idiot for having Daryl watch the Sanctuary. A few share that same thought but hers had a whole other meaning.

“You staying the night here?”

“Yeah, figured they’d survive a night without me” Daryl scoffs finishing his beer as Y/N curled up slightly in her chair to get more comfortable.

“Well…I still stay at Rick and Michonne’s. No one touched your room if you’d like to stay there”

“I was actually planning on it…”

“Good” Y/N continues to hold her smile that he will always take a mental picture of. Before she could get another word, Rick quickly cut in to ask Daryl himself about any updates for the Sanctuary.

Which lead the exhaustion to finally hit Y/N after a long day.

When his conversation ended by Rick running off to catch up with Ezekiel, Daryl was going to return to his with Y/N but noticed she fell asleep in her chair. So instead of waking her, he sat with her and made sure no one disturbed her.

Daryl shooed away people, even tossed his empty beer bottle at Aaron who tried to start a conversation (thankfully he caught it)…eventually he got up from his spot and carefully picked up Y/N bridal style which led her to stir awake enough to realize what was happening.

“Oh…”

“You’re alright, imma take yea home”

“Okay, long day” Y/N mumbles resting her head against his chest closing her eyes once more.

On the way to the Grimes residence, Rosita and Michonne went up to make sure Y/N was okay but Daryl quickly gave them a look to back off gently. Nothing was wrong. Thankfully they both understood.

“Who woulda thought it took having Y/N do a lot of shit today to have this tonight” Michonne stated, taking a sip of her scotch as Rosita choked on her beer.

“You’re also trying to get them together?”

“Please. I’ve been trying since our prison days. At least she can finally rest easy tonight…it’s been hard for her with Daryl at the Sanctuary”

“I bet…” Rosita continued to watch the two walk off before leaning close to Michonne with a smirk. “What’d yea win in the bet with Carol?”

“Three night shifts for the bridge camp”

“Nice”

Once they got inside the house and upstairs to Y/N’s room, Daryl gently laid her in the bed before grabbing a blanket draping it over her carefully. What he least expected, Y/N gently took his wrist tugging him back to the bed as he caught the hint or so he thought by bringing him low enough for her to wrap his arms around him.

“Lay with me…”

“Are you su—-“

“I’ve missed you so much Daryl, I’m not letting go of you that easily”

The archer didn’t wait another moment and quickly kicked off his shoes before climbing into the bed laying on top of her. Y/N let him adjust to where his head rested comfortably on her chest letting her run her fingers through his hair.

A satisfied sigh left Daryl’s lips holding her as she held him in a way where she wasn’t going to let go easily.

And he’s thankful for that

[help-itrappedmyself]

Summoning Game Show Part 5

Masterpost

I just spent an unnecessarily long time making A Quiz so I would have questions and answers ready to go, only to not put any of them in. And spend a ridiculously long time doing math because I had to redo it like three times. Numbers are not my strong suit. In any case I now have a fully functional Jeopardy game and the next part.

~~~~~

It’s a close race. They were equal on the mountain track and neither really got sidetracked by Skulker on such a straightforward route. They made it to Zone Two almost even, but Jason almost immediately falls behind as Skulker hits him with a paintball. Being shot at shocked him more than anything, but realizing it was paint, he stopped trying to avoid it and just kept going, letting his armor deal with most of it. Skulker got bored and quickly went after Johnny instead, who got irritated and started a shouting match with Skulker as he drove. The different terrains meant they had to keep slowing down and speeding up, and Skulker got bored with the paintballs and started throwing water balloons instead. This was more annoying for the drivers because the water made the sand and mud trickier to drive on. Both Johnny and Jason both got their bikes temporarily stuck in mud and had to drag them back out while Skulker cackled above them. 

Zone three allowed Jason to catch back up to Johnny. This was what he was used to and he was able to go faster with more confidence. Johnny and Jason separated after Skulker shot a net at them both. And they found each other again on a straightaway leading to the finish line. It was close at the end, but Jason managed to pull out ahead. 

They shook hands at the finish line, walking back into the main room together. They separated when Johnny left to go back to the stands, followed closely by Skulker. 

“Wonderful race, very intense, great driving all around.” Danny says, very entertained. “Well earned win, Jason. I’ll remind you this is what you have currently.”

“What letter would you like to guess?”

“I’ll take I.”

“Another vowel, very good.” Danny waves his hand again. “There are two I’s!

“The next challenge is trivia, which will be played by Red Robin as he is the only one who has yet to participate in a challenge.”

A new podium appears on stage as Danny’s podium rotates so the two are facing each other. Red Robin walks up to the new podium.

“ The theme is SPACE!” Danny is so excited he is practically bouncing. A jeopardy-looking game board appears on the screen. “ You have 6 categories, all space themed, they are:  Earth, Other Planets, Space Numbers, Stars, Other Space Entities, and Spacecrafts! There are 9,000 possible points, you need to get at least 7,500 in order to win! The game can stop as soon as we’ve reached that number.”

Red, being Red, decides to do all the hardest questions first. He starts at the bottom left corner, gets the first question right. Tim thinks since he got the hardest one he could probably finish out the Earth category pretty easily, so he goes down the list and gets them all correct. 

With 1,500 points he decides to start the next category with the hardest question as well. This is his first wrong answer. He starts going up the list, and gets the 400 incorrect for this category as well. Danny is disappointed. The rest of the boys are infinitely relieved that Tim is the one doing the trivia part. They probably would have lost already. 

Tim does get the rest of the ‘Other Planets’ category correct and moves on with 2,100 points and 6,000 points left on the board. He decides to start ‘Space Numbers’ with the 100 point question and keeps going, acing the whole category. He now has 3,600 points. With 4,500 points left on the board he needs 3,900 more points. This means he can only lose 600 more points. He aces the ‘Stars” category, then moves on to ‘Other Space Entities’. He misses the last question, leaving him with 6,100 points and 1,500 left on the board. Tim can only afford to miss the 100 point question, so he decides to start at 500 and get it over with.

He continues until he reaches the 200 point question. If Tim answers this one he will win, and he does so correctly the screen changes to shoots of confetti.

[hotvintagepoll]

hotvintagepoll Hot Men Tournament rundown thoughts

I promised a final recap post and here it is! I'll try to cover the questions I saw the most as we closed out the bracket, reveal my ✨secret faves✨, and talk about the biggest surprises and turnarounds I saw in the brackets.

Yes, this will get silly.

ROUND 1

As I've mentioned before, I worked off submissions for who to include in the bracket, so if your fave was missing—that's why. I used submitted pics when I could, but many submissions didn't have one, so I tried to find decent ones in the couple of days I had to prep the first round (I didn't always succeed). By decent, I mean pics where 1) I could see the hot man's face, so not too much moody lighting, and 2) hopefully conveyed something about his vibe, even if it was a funny thing (yes, I showed Howard Keel in full Shakespeare get-up—I'm not beyond putting up a pic because I think it's funny). I didn't know all of these hotties going in, so some I had to guess with, but when I could I tried to pick shots that had a touch of the humor, class, or genre of the hot man.

For Round 1 and Round 2, I grouped the hotties by each decade, so only '60s actors ran against '60s actors, '50s against '50s, etc. Male beauty standards shifted pretty dramatically over the sixty years this tournament covers, and I didn't think it was fair to pit dramatically different styles of beauty against each other immediately.

I pitted hot men against each other based on opposing energies—hot vs cold, elegant vs rough, comedy vs drama, etc.. I wanted the polls to be interesting and I've never liked brackets where everyone is clearly in different "lanes" until the finals! I also wanted to make polls where I couldn't tell which way they would swing, so by setting matchups that felt opposite but equal, I got to be surprised by the bracket results too.

The only reason we had any three-way matchups is because the amount of men submitted didn't round to a nice bracket number. I don't like them generally and find them really hard to balance.

Secret faves from Round 1—I am a James Coburn girlie and knew he would die immediately, so that was not a shock but a bummer. I similarly knew Robert Preston is only magical to people who have seen him do His Little Dance Routines in That One Iowa Musical, but it would have been nice for him to last longer.

Surprises—Jeremy Brett was a last-minute add and I didn't think he really had a shot, so I put him in as a third wheel on the Sean Connery/Dean Martin matchup. Little did I count on the Granada girlies. (Always count on the Granada girlies.) The Elvis/Peter Falk poll was the first one to gain any momentum—Elvis was winning for the first 24 hours but then, my god, did Peter fight back. I didn't expect the Tab/Toshiro poll to make that bad a mincemeat out of Tab—people have different tastes, and I thought the people who like blonde sunny All American white boys might turn out for The Blonde Sunny All American White Boy. Sorry, Tab. I hope you've peeled yourself off the sidewalk by now. And, of course, I was SHOCKED and APPALLED that James Cagney would be obliterated by, of all people, Mr. Bing Crosby.

SHADOW BRACKET

The fervor of the Harold Lloyd and Fredric March people inspired the shadow bracket, and I couldn't be happier at the way it's gone. You were right, the original photos I had for them did suck. Cunty Harold Lloyd in his little life guard uniform was a revelation.

ROUND 2

For Round 2 I'd gotten a better sense of who was doing well and who was not, so a little of that came into play, but I mostly paired on vibes again. (I genuinely think this is a good way to make a fun, challenging bracket.)

Secret faves—Noooo not hot dilf Dick Van Dyke don't take my hot inventor dilf away uwu!!! (He was up against Marlon Brando. I would have been shocked if he'd won but for a minute there, a glorious second, it was possible.) I am also a big old softie for David Niven's particular brand of repression to the point of volcanic rupture, but he is one of many hotties who does not look good without moving and speaking so I figured he would be going.

So much beef—hey! hey you. I ran a poll asking if we are horny for dancers. Yes, was the resounding poll response. Where, then, did all the fucking dancers go? This round we lost Donald O'Connor, Fred Astaire, Harold Nicholas; Sammy Davis Jr., Danny Kaye, Frank Sinatra, and Bing Crosby all sneak into this category as well, by token of having been in the kind of big MGM bang-a-pan-and-put-on-a-show beloved bedlams we all watch at Christmastime. Round 2 voters HATED musical matchups. Except for one.

The one—SOUND OF MUSIC, the voters said, WE LOVE SOUND OF MUSIC. we will KILL the man responsible for salad dressing because of the SOUND OF MUSIC. every other dance man can die but THIS man dances a FOLK DANCE with JULIE ANDREWS in a GARDEN. I did not go into this poll with strong opinions about Christopher Plummer or Paul Newman but my god did I leave having heard all of them.

Surprises—James Edwards/Anthony Perkins matchup was a nail biter! Conrad vs Oscar kept me up at nights. Surprised to see Basil Rathbone survive against Sabu Dastagir—both very fetching, but Sabu had some top-tier propaganda. Cesar Romero put up a surprisingly stiff fight against Cary Grant (an omen for things to come).

Oh horrors—horror heroes surprisingly fell all over the place. I was sure either Bela Lugosi or Turhan Bey would sweep their three-way matchup, but Michael Redgrave of all people carried through; Boris Karloff went down against Johnny Weismuller (while holding hands with fellow fallen hottie Fred Astaire), but at least we got his guacamole recipe before he went. Delighted to see that the Venn diagram of the coalitions who support horror hero Vincent Price and funny lil guy Donald O'Connor is a circle.

Secret faves pt 2—oh yeah, I fucking love Danny Kaye and Donald O'Connor. RIP funny lil kings.

ROUND 3

For some reason this was the hardest one to make matchups for. Oh no, all the men are hot.

Secret faves—Michael Redgrave i love you SO much you're SUCH an idiot, how did you make it as far as round 3. I want you to sweep the whole thing but you should NOT be surviving this. I love you, here's a kiss, go home.

Surprises—Marlon Brando is gone! Errol Flynn is gone! Christopher Plummer exhausted himself beating the organic oreos man to death and goes out with a whimper. Beginning to actually see the roots of #mifunesweep as Tyrone Power, a hot man very different from Burt Lancaster, who was in turn very different from Tab Hunter, also gets swept under the wheels of the unbeatable toshirobus. Conrad Veidt finds that no amount of purring svelte eccentricity compares to the people who will fuck a young Lt. Columbo.

SHADOW BRACKET 2

Cannot believe it but Veidt loses this one too. Perkins sweeps and becomes Prince of the Shadow Realm!

ROUND 4

At this point I've set a formal bracket that I'm following.

Secret faves—this isn't secret anymore, but losing Jimmy Stewart hurt.

Surprises—The Gene Kelly/Jeremy Brett matchup was the diciest one all round, moving back and forth between the two by sometimes .01%. Far more surprising, however, was Cary Grant getting eliminated before the quarterfinals. Grant has never been my type, but he is famous for being THE type, so while the writing had been on the wall the whole tournament—how on earth did Michael Redgrave even get 36% in his matchup?!—seeing Grant go down was a SHOCKER. Other fallen hotties included Gregory Peck, James Dean, Harry Belafonte, and Sessue Hayakawa. Peter Falk finally met his match in Omar Sharif.

QUARTERFINALS

Secret faves—I don't know if it counts as a secret fave, tbh, as my horses in the race really went out with Stewart, but I do have a soft spot here worth mentioning. Here's my childhood dog, Keaton.

The resemblance is truly striking, and yes, he was short, fast, and not prone to smiling.

Surprises—I couldn't predict how any of these matchups would go down, but I was most interested in Keaton vs Sharif, as they are both SO hot in SUCH different ways.

SEMIFINALS:

This was such a good batch of semifinalist contestants. By this point I think we could all tell Mifune was unstoppable (though I thought Sharif might give him a run for his money), but I really didn't know which way Robeson vs Poitier would flip.

FINALS:

I wanted Sidney Poitier to pull a last-minute sweep out of nowhere, but alas, Toshiro is just THAT GOOD (maybe. I will admit that I find Toshiro's domination a little hard to believe, given the variety and hotness of all his competitors; the man is hot but all these men are hot). I'm still happy with how the tournament went.

FINAL MEDITATIONS:

Biggest shock of a dropout: the loss of Paul Newman

Biggest "you people have no taste": the loss of James Cagney

Biggest victory: Paul Robeson making it to the semifinals over often-assumed champion Gregory Peck

Biggest coalition who deserve justice: dancing men

Biggest ask character: vents anon (currently eating Laurence Olivier)

Biggest, uhh, anything: how many of you are here! I genuinely thought it would be me and 10 other people voting for the whole tournament. I'm thrilled it took off like this!

I think that's everything, but I'm happy to answer addl asks. And THANK YOU to everyone for your tags, rants, impassioned propaganda, beautiful pics, and love for the hot men! See you for the ladies!

[fyorina]

ᡣ𐭩 KNOW IT'S FOR THE BETTER (ALL I WANTED WAS YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: he can't stop himself from calling; you can't stop yourself from answering. he never speaks, but he doesn't have to—just knowing he's there is enough to lure you in. that's how it remains for weeks. that is until you mention that you're going on a risky mission and dazai has to to make an equally risky decision to keep you safe.

(wordcount: 3.1k; fem!reader, pm!reader, post-defection, angsty but not awfully so (again, sorry, i swear there's happier ones coming), implied alcoholism, dazai gets a bit jealous, ango cameo)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: OKAYYYYYY this was actually my first pm!reader and pmzai fic, believe it or not, it's been in my notes app for ages. i tried to fix most of the inconsistencies. as always, can be read as a standalone butttt for the people following the pm!reader universe, this comes directly after death by a thousand cuts! i hope you guys enjoy!! im actually rlly excited to finally get this fic out here!

He calls you sometimes.

Well, you don’t know for sure it’s him—he never speaks, if you’re lucky sometimes you can hear soft puffs of air from the other line, and the number is always unknown, but you know in your heart that it’s him. 

The first call came three days after you found him drunk in an alley—seven months after his defection. 

The unknown caller ID popped up on your phone while you were drinking with Chuuya in his apartment, trying to forget all about Dazai Osamu and all of the pain he’s brought you. You answered it irritably and when you got no response from the caller, you promptly told them to fuck off and die if they’re going to waste your time with prank calls. You expected them to hang up right away but they didn’t—in fact, they only hung up when they heard Chuuya shouting for you to get off the phone so he can open another bottle of wine, as if he wasn’t going to anyway. 

The next call came another three days after that. 

You were in a meeting with Mori when the unknown caller popped back up on your phone screen. You excused yourself to answer the phone only because you were desperate for a reason to get out of the meeting—you think that he might’ve somehow sniffed out that you ran into Dazai and if he outright asked you, you didn’t know if you’d be able to lie without him catching you in it. 

Regardless of the reasoning, you were even more pissed off than you were the first time when you heard the silence on the other end, accusing them of fucking with you and demanding to know how they got your number—again, the person didn’t say anything, and you hung up even more irate than you were the first time. 

It takes three more calls for you to put the pieces together—it’s a bit embarrassing how long it took you, but in your defense, you were trying to put Dazai Osamu as far from your mind as possible. Honestly, you weren’t even sure of it when you first guessed his name. It’s a shot in the dark when you answer the unknown caller for the fifth time and whisper, “Dazai?” so very hesitantly. Your confirmation comes in the form of a sharp inhale on the other line before it instantly goes dead. 

He doesn’t call again for two weeks, and when he finally does, it’s in the middle of the night. The buzzing of the phone woke you up, your alarm clock glowing a bright 3:15 am. You don’t even look at the caller—you figure it’s Chuuya, who has yet to return from his mission in Sendai—as you answer with a groggy “what?” 

You get no response besides the sound of a shaky breath on the other end and suddenly you’re wide awake as you realize who exactly called. He doesn’t speak, even as you make yourself sick with anger—he’s conscious and coherent this time, unlike the time you ran into him in the alley, so you take the opportunity to unleash all of the pent up rage and hurt that you’d withheld that night. You cry for the first time since he defected and he stays on the line the whole time, until you eventually exhaust yourself and fall asleep. When you wake up in the morning, he’s hung up, but the call time reads four and a half hours. 

It becomes a weekly occurrence—occasionally biweekly. 

Sometimes, you tell him about your day, rambling on about how you were irritated because Mori made you deal with Ace or complaining about recent territory issues that the Port Mafia has been facing—something that you probably shouldn’t be sharing on an unsecure line with someone who defected from the mafia, but you can never bring yourself to fully care because it’s Dazai. 

Other times, you just lay in bed quietly, exhausted after a full day of work, the phone resting next to your ear as doze off to the comforting sound of his steady breathing. 

You don’t tell anyone. 

If anyone knew you’re keeping in contact with a traitor, you’d be executed. You think that Chuuya might know—the two of you now share the penthouse of the westernmost skyscraper of the five buildings of the Port Mafia’s base and you know he’s smart enough to have put together who you’re talking to late at night. But if he does, he doesn’t say anything, because he too knows what the consequences of your actions would be if it were true.

You let out a soft puff of air as your phone begins buzzing—it’s well past midnight and you’re half asleep, but you roll over and pick up the phone with heavy eyes.

“Hey,” you whisper.

Dazai doesn’t respond, he never does, but you can hear him breathing on the other line, closer to the speaker than he usually is. You can’t help but notice that his breath is heavier than usual too, a bit shakier. 

He’s been drinking, you realize. You figured that he usually drinks on the nights that he calls you, but he never lets himself close enough to the speaker for you to figure out if it’s true. You just hope it’s not as bad as….

“I won’t be able to answer for a while after this,” you say quietly after a few moments, rolling over in bed to shift your face closer to the phone. “Mori assigned me another mission. An infiltration one—first one since you’ve been gone.”

Dazai would know the implications of that, and from the way he inhales sharply at your words, you know he does instantly, even in his drunken state. 

Whenever you were sent on infiltration missions, Dazai was always the one in your ear, making sure that you got in and out safely. You refused to take infiltration missions unless Dazai and his freakish prophetic ability was the one on comms for you because you knew he’d be able to figure out if you’ve been compromised before the enemy have even figured it out for themselves. 

But you had known it was only a matter of time before Mori put you back on them. You’re the best suited in the Port Mafia for them and the recent issues with that gang that’s been moving into the northern wards from Asakusa all but demands interference from the inside lest you guys will be dealing with another major gang war and the city can’t handle that. 

“I’m nervous,” you admit for the first time, voice little over a whisper. “I don’t trust anyone but you to be my eyes and ears. Plus this mafia is... They're very violent. Kawabata leads it. I faced off against him in Osaka before he moved into Tokyo, back when I was still in Kyoto. It's... risky. It's been years but I'm worried he'll recognize me. I don't know why Mori is insisting on me being the one to go in.”

You swear you hear Dazai take in another breath, as if he was about to say something this time, but he doesn’t. Your throat feels swollen and your eyes feel misty, jaw tight. Not for the first time, you miss Dazai. You miss him so desperately that you swear your chest caves in at the thought of him. 

You want to hate him but you know you can’t. You've come to accept that already. But you think you still might like to pretend you can.

You told yourself after you ran into him that night that you’d push him from mind, you’d forget about him. You knew that one day you’d meet him again—you and Dazai Osamu have been entwined since the day you met, fate has a lot left in store for the two of you for things to just so abruptly end—but until that day, you have to focus on what matters. And what matters is the Port Mafia.

But how are you supposed to forget him when he can’t even bring himself to fully leave you behind? You think it’s cruel of him, and you think that you should ignore his calls until he finally gives up, but you can’t bring yourself to because no matter how much you preach about forgetting him, if the choice of keeping contact with him arises, you’ll always choose it.

“I miss you,” you breathe out, voice cracking over your words. “I miss you so much that it hurts, Dazai. i-“

The line goes dead. 

The words on your lips die as soon as you realize he hung up, heart sinking. You sigh as you stare up at the ceiling before curling over onto your side, hoping to at least get a little sleep before your early wake up call for mission prep. 

But it’s a naive hope—you know that you’ll never sleep tonight, not with thoughts of Dazai Osamu racing through your mind. 

Dazai shouldn’t be doing this. 

His knuckles are white as he sits at a row of monitors in a locked down ex-government facility. On each of the screens are different vantage points of the main base of the Scarlet Gang, the mafia that had been run out of the Asakusa ward of Tokyo by the Sun and Steel and is now challenging the Port Mafia. 

Ango is pacing somewhere behind him, expression tight and arms crossed against his chest. Dazai knows that he’s livid over this, but Dazai also does not care because he doesn’t think that Ango has a right to be livid about anything that Dazai does anymore. 

He’s been here for three days already. His knees are tucked to his chest as he sits on the spinning chair, bags heavy beneath his eyes and hair matted and oily after days of sitting in front of the screen without budging an inch. He doesn’t dare take his eyes off the screen—not when your life is on the line, and especially not when he’s not even on a direct comms line with you. All he has is a burner cell and hope that you at least take a look at your phone if he has to send a text.

If this mission is like every other infiltration mission you’ve been sent on, it’ll be another two days before your planned extraction—and if you have the same luck you always do, the mission will go smoothly. But Dazai has a dark feeling in his gut, and he isn’t quite sure if it’s because he has no control over the mission or if something bad really is going to happen, there have already been some suspicious signs and he doesn't trust Mori. Your whole comment about his insistence on you going keeps scratching the back of his head like he's missing something, because there's no way Mori would ever risk losing your ability, especially to Kawabata. The man is always scheming, and Dazai is certain there's one simmering below the facade of this mission but he just can't figure out what. Either way, he knows he can't risk stepping away for even a moment. 

“I thought you were done with this, Dazai.” Ango finally has the nerve to voice what dazai knows he’s been itching to say for three days. “I thought-“

“Maybe you should stop thinking,” Dazai says dryly, his head hurts and sweat is beading beneath his arms. Three days without drinking is affecting him way more than he thought it would, but he can’t afford to be inebriated for this.

“Dazai-“ Ango begins.

“I’m not doing this for the Port Mafia,” Dazai cuts him off, dark eyes dragging across the screen to where he sees you laughing with one of the members of the Scarlet Gang, leaning in close with a teasing smile. 

You’re beautiful. Stunning. He can’t blame the way the man you’re talking to seems to gravitate closer to you, enamored by the sound of your voice and the way your eyes glitter beneath the room’s chandelier, but he still wishes he could put a bullet through his head. 

He hasn’t seen you since the day before he left—well, he doesn’t remember seeing you since then, at least. He has some suspicions regarding the part of his ear that mysteriously went missing the night he woke up in one of your shared safehouses, but this is his first time really seeing you and it makes his chest feel sick and heavy to know you’re so out of reach and by his own doing, nonetheless.

His eyes narrow as he watches the man reach out to brush his fingers against your arm. His lips twist down even more when his gaze tracks down to your lips—this is always his least favorite part of being on comms for your infiltration missions. 

“You won’t be able to oversee all of her infiltration missions anymore, Dazai,” Ango says, voice a bit more gentle and Dazai has a distinct urge to rip out the man’s vocal cords. “Once I get your records clear and you’ve joined up with the Agency, you’re going to have to leave this all behind for good. All of it.”

Dazai doesn’t respond. His lips press together tight as Ango’s words register. He knows that he’s right, that if he wants to honor Odasaku’s final wishes, then he has to leave everything behind—even you—but he can hardly even bear the thought of it. Never seeing you again, never hearing your voice again, he thinks that a life without you is not a life worth living. 

He thought that he’d be able to do it, that he’d be able to cut you off just like everyone else, but it only took one drunken night at a bar when he stared at old pictures of you for a bit too long for him to give in to the aching feeling in his chest, the desperate need to at least hear your voice one last time. 

Except one last time turned into another and another; as much as Dazai Osamu likes to pretend to be strong, he’s always been weak at heart for you. From he moment he met you three years earlier during the Dragon’s Head Conflict—sent with Chuuya by Mori to retrieve you after finding out the squad sent to escort you back had been decimated by an ability user—he’s known that he was out of his depth when it comes to you. 

He was already curious to begin with, Mori doesn’t speak highly of anyone but he did speak highly of you, and at first Dazai assumed it was just because you were a girl, and a young one at that. Everyone knows Mori’s gross fascination with them. But when they found you mid-conflict with an ability user, trying to hold your own with only a gun and some rubble as shields to defend yourself from sweltering flames, he realized that maybe there was more that meets the eye to you. 

You’re beautiful—god, he can never stress it enough, words don’t do you justice. Wicked smart. Can talk your way into and out of any situation. Have a bounty on your head high enough to rival his own. From the day he met you, Dazai knew you were everything he’s ever wanted. And yeah, maybe it took him too long to come to terms with that, but it doesn’t make the feelings any less powerful.

Sometimes, when he drinks just a bit too much and he finds himself staring at old pictures of the two of you that he’d taken, he wonders if you would have come with him if he told you what he was doing. He wonders if maybe he hadn’t been a coward, you would be with him right now instead of risking your life on an infiltration mission with some incompetent moron on comms instead of him. He wonders if maybe he would have kissed you on that same bridge he tried to kill himself during that first week he spent drunk and alone. 

He doubts it. In his heart, he’s pretty sure you’d always choose the Mafia over him, but it’s nice to pretend sometimes.

“I don’t care” Dazai finally says, his voice rougher than he intended as he gives Ango a cold look from the corner of his eye. “I won’t let her die on a bullshit mission because some clown is on comms for her.” 

Ango doesn’t get a chance to respond again because Dazai’s eyes are drawn back to the monitors, where a conversation is taking place on the far side of the room. A conversation that has them looking in your direction a bit too often for his liking.

Dazai inhales, rising to his feet, shoulders and arms tensing as his eyes trace the screen, trying to figure out if he should send you a warning. If he’s wrong, it’ll have completely blown your mission and it would put you at risk if Mori or any of the other executives start questioning you as to why you abandoned the mission for no reason.

But if he’s right… 

Dazai is good at many things, and he’s always been quick to be the one on comms with you because he, better than anyone else in the mafia, is good at reading and predicting enemy moves. He always knows in his gut what’s about to happen, you would sometimes joke that it was his real ability, some form of foresight and you would be less joking when you nudge his shoulder and tell him that you’re glad you have his ‘freaky prophetic ability’ otherwise you’d have been dead a long time ago.

Dazai grits his teeth. He feels Ango approaching him from behind but ignores him, mind racing as he tries to calculate the best course of action.

Finally, he takes the burner phone and shoots you a short message: compromised. 

And then he waits. 

The longest and most tense minute of his life passes as he watches you on the screen, waiting to see if you’ll even bother to check your phone. He doesn’t think that he’ll be able to stay in the room if it turns out you are compromised and stuck in enemy territory—he’d feel helpless, unable to do anything but watch and pray to a god he barely believes in that you get out okay. 

Come on, he thinks to himself as one of the men begins making his way in your direction, nails digging into his palms so deeply that blood began to flow from the crescents. Come on, check your phone. 

And then you do. 

He lets out a shaky breath of relief when he sees you pull out your phone, eyes tracing the message on your screen rapidly. A flurry of emotions rocket across your face, and for a moment, Dazai thinks that you’re about to cry.

But then you smile again, leaning in and clasping the man’s hand and leaning in to brush your lips against his cheek before making your way out of the room. He doesn’t dare look away until you’ve slipped out of sight from the cameras littered throughout the building and out of danger. 

Without another word, Dazai turns to leave the old facility.

“Dazai,” Ango calls after him.

Dazai ignores him, snapping the burner phone. You’re safe—that’s all that matters. Now he can go back to drinking himself away and dreaming of what could’ve been. 

Two days later, Mori sends you away on a mission abroad that lasts the next three years. That night was the last time he had any sort of contact with you until you’re finally brought back.

[ncteez]

my love ⭐️ i love you 🫵☺️ congratulations on 6k, you are so wonderful and amazing and, yes, i love you. i’ll say it again, i love you (aggressive 🤬) u don’t have to do this one bc can i request cheol and prompt #13? IF NOT, i will take the spotify playlist instead <3

(ngl, i forgot the number as soon as i entered ur ask box, but it was like “you can take it, you’ve done it before” hehe)

AGAIN, congratulations and i love u, my favorite person ever

seungcheol + “You can take it, you’ve done it before”

wordcount: 3.9k

tags: huge dick!seungcheol, fuck buddy scenario, he’s super cocky and not the soft boyfriend we want him to be, the one where he was a hook up and now he won’t stop calling at three in the morning, he might be a little possessive and competitive, desperate! desperate! desperate!, reader is very sex-positive and also a sarcastic little goblin, mentions of vernon eating u out while on call with seungcheol lmaoooooo, seungcheol uses vernon in dirty talk lmao, smut (fuck around and find out).

note: i wrote this entirely with you in mind sar, ilysm, i hope u love this as much as i love u & hope u don’t mind that i made vernon a core point of the plot.  not proof read.

~

The Friday night from two weeks ago didn’t cross your mind too often because you’re not too often thinking about the dudes you’ve gone home with from the bar. Given, that was mistake number one. 

Seungcheol, apparently, doesn’t do “hook-ups”. What he does do, according to his texts, is acquire fuck buddies. That’s fine with you, absolutely and totally okay. Mostly because you have at least three other dudes texting you for some late-night release and all of them are equally as hot as Seungcheol, at the very least. 

You guess you just didn’t expect him to ever text again, especially after a two week period. 

Mistake number two was answering his call while Vernon (aka fuck buddy #1), was actively going down on you. It’s not entirely that it was a mistake, if anything it was incredibly arousing to answer that phone and hear Seungcheol on the other line tugging at himself while Vernon was down there flicking his tongue on all of the right spots to get you there at least three times faster than usual. Of course, to Vernon, he maybe thought it was a friend or family member calling, and that maybe it was a game where you needed to be quiet while he intentionally tried to make you moan as much as possible. 

He was a little shocked hearing how loud you were over the phone, internally panicking at the last minute and lunging up to hang the phone up for you while also forcing you to come down from an impending orgasm. Upon realizing it was Seungcheol (aka fuck buddy #?) his confidence was shot down just a little bit. Of course, you boosted his ego right back up by praising, complementing, and giving him the best head of his life. 

Where was the mistake in any of that? It was hot. You loved it, and even Vernon was slightly on board with the idea of fucking you while letting you get other people off over the phone. At least, that was after he got off a couple of times and felt all soft and appreciative of you. 

The mistake was Seungcheol texting you about hanging up when he was close. 

Again, it’s not like you were expecting him to ever call you back after two weeks of radio silence, better yet in the midst of Vernon doing what he did best. 

You could argue that answering the phone at all was a bad idea, and you have no excuse for that, but at least Seungcheol got a little competitive when you explained why the phone was hung up, and who hung up on him. 

“So, you’re not the one who hung up on me?” Seungcheol asks in a slightly annoyed voice. “Anyone could see that you were enjoying yourself as much as I was.”

“Well–”

“Was he afraid I’d get you off first without so much as being in the room?”

“I just think that he–” 

“Does he want you all to himself or?”

“Seungcheol,” You raise your voice a bit, looking around the room and confirming that Vernon has definitely already left. 

Given, Seungcheol called like fourteen times in the span of finishing up your respective orgasms with the messy boy, you weren’t shocked that he answered on the first ring when you called him back.

“What? I’m right.”

“Well, no. You’re not actually.” You respond, rolling your eyes. “Vernon didn’t even know it was someone I fucked until after he hung up on you. He doesn’t want me all to himself, and he definitely wasn’t afraid you’d get me off first.”

Silence.

“You haven’t shown interest since the first and only time we met up, i’m a little confused as to why you’re spamming my phone like some weirdo.” You trail off a bit, and he speaks. 

“Um, because I’m horny?” He answers nonchalantly. “You can’t say you haven’t thought about seeing me again.”

“I can say that, actually. But I wouldn't entirely be opposed to it if you stop trying to go to war with the other people I see.”

“To be fair, I wasn’t competitive until now. You have to admit it’s kind of fun–”

“Yeah. I can admit that.”

More silence for a moment before you hear shuffling on your end. 

“So, were those moans for him or for me?”

You pause, a cheeky smile forming on your lips. It’s not normal for your fuck buddies to know about each other outside of being aware that the other exists, but, like, you don’t know. It was really hot to hear Seungcheol groaning and fucking his fist while Vernon was doing his thing on you. 

“Both of you.”

Seungcheol hums, pleased. 

“I’ll have to try harder next time then, make you forget he’s even touching you.”

“Next time?” You laugh, yawning out the post-orgasm drowsiness. 

“Or you can just come over, we both know you wouldn’t need us both to feel that good.” 

A direct hit to the confidence you just gagged yourself to give back to Vernon. You will never tell him about the competition that seems to be boiling up with Seungcheol, after all, there’s a reason Vernon is number one, and Seungcheol is only just now becoming a face you’ll see more than once.

“I didn’t realize how confident you are about that, is that a promise?”

“Also a threat.” He laughs, seemingly finished with the conversation before letting out a sigh. “I’ll call you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you will.”

~

Man, did he fucking call. A lot. Usually too late into the night or too early into the morning for you to be aware and aware of his need to get off. Does he ever sleep, actually? 

This time though, it’s around ten at night when you get his call and you pick it up for him happily.

“Finally, you call when I’m awake.” 

A breathy chuckle. 

“You gonna come over or are you just gonna argue?” 

You’re going over, fucking obviously. Like, lightening speed going over because even though you’ve only been with him once, you can remember how good he made it feel for you. 

“I’ll text when I get there,” You start, narrowing your eyes at yourself in the mirror. “You’re not gonna make me call him while I’m with you, right?”

“I might.” He says, and you can practically hear that fucking grin on his face.

“I’m not doing that.”

Another breathy fucking chuckle. 

“Did you forget last time? Felt so good I think you would’ve burned a building down if I asked you to.”

That’s fair, but also incredibly unfair for him to bring up. 

“You’re so annoying.” You say, shaking your head and slipping on your shoes. 

“Well, you’re the one on your way to come sit on me, so…”

Again, that’s fair, but it doesn’t stop you from hanging up on him, and him sitting in his room laughing about how much you very clearly want to see him again, but seem to love arguing. 

By the time you get there, he’s ready, Like, so fucking ready. Between reminding himself of how you looked the only time he’s ever been between your legs, to the way you sounded through a muffled speaker while some loser-ass dude was eating you out– yeah, that got to him in so many ways. The fact that you answered the phone while it was happening was one thing, an incredibly hot thing, but the fact that you answered for him at all after so long of no contact was another. 

It’s not like he forgot about you or anything, it’s just that maybe on that night his first option was busy, and so was his second option, and you, his third option, was very busy but still let him in on the pleasure you were feeling. 

Maybe, just maybe, you set yourself up to become his number one that night. He had to get with you again. Possibly to prove to himself that he could be your number one choice too, but mostly because the way you talk to him is fun.

It’s about sex most of the time, if any of your few conversations are to go by, but all of this makes him wonder how you act when you’re not horny. Not that it matters or anything, but still. You’re an interesting lay, and he’s excited to see you again. 

Either way, when you land those little knocks on his door and he rushes to open it. It’s almost like he entirely forgot what you looked like. You look insanely attractive right now to him, to the point that it’s a struggle to even step back and let you in through his door. It’s hard for him not to use his strength against you, rushing forward and making you sigh out his name against the plush grass on his lawn. 

Self control is something he was always proud of, and fuck you for ripping that away from him by so much as fucking other people and still showing up on his porch to let him have his turn. 

You look up at him, noting the way his hair falls in his face and his arms flex as he grips the door knob tightly upon seeing you. 

“Why do you look so fucking good right now?” He blurts, staring at you. 

“Probably because you’re horny?” You smile, taking a step forward and shoving past him without issue or resistance. 

That little shove though. Damn, his skin is on fire just from feeling your fingers pressed against his chest to move him out of your way. Probably because you’re moving him so you can get inside and be fucked. He senses eagerness in your own charade of calmness, turning to watch you bend over to slip off your shoes. 

“Go ahead and take the rest off too, while you’re at it.” He finally says, closing the door and leaning against the frame as he crosses his arms.

You look back at him with a chuckle, your eyes trailing down and noting the size of that thing in his pants. What, the, fuck. You actually managed to forget that you nearly had to do breathing exercises the last time he slid his cock into you. It’s not even an issue, because you really did love to feel as full as he made you. You’re just shocked that you let that slip your fucking mind. 

“Jesus,” You sigh, standing up straight and kicking your shoes out of the way. This time you reach for the hem of your shirt as you walk to him, lifting it above your head and discarding it on the floor as well. “Did you get bigger, or?” You add, instantly grabbing his length beneath his loose sweat pants and gripping it.

The way you nearly see his eyes cross makes you smile wider as you massage him there for a moment. 

“I’ll go ahead and let you think that,” He smiles after the feeling of your hand on him settles within his aroused gut. “Miss me?” He whispers now, pushing his hips forward against your hand so you can feel it twitch in your palm. 

You’d say no, because there wasn’t much to miss outside of the sex, which you were getting elsewhere. But, seeing him now, yeah, you think you’ll at least miss him once you go home.

He notes your small nod before stepping up closer. His chest is right up against you as he looks down at you, eyes fanning over your face and realizing that this time, he’s really going to fuck you. Like, he’s going to give it his all, if anything, just to become your favorite. 

“Come on then,” He smiles, reaching for your hand and pulling it away from himself before guiding you to the room you’ve already been in once before.

It’s the exact same as it was save for different sheets, but your stomach bubbles more than it did that time with him. 

The removal of clothes is quick and mostly unnnoticed, if anything it was just an annoyance to get that part out of the way. 

And then, he’s doing what he does best, sitting back against his headboard, spreading his legs, and patting the bed between them. You’d assume he wants head but no. No, no. He wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling your back right up against his chest as he rests his chin on your shoulder. 

You feel his hands trail down, no teasing, no playing around. He goes straight to your clit and uses his other hand to spread one of your legs wide open. 

“Did his tongue do this?” He asks, swirling two fingers around your clit before sliding them up and down your folds.

You’re not surprised that he’s playing off of the Vernon thing, so you play along too. Feeling his fingers work their magic on you as you lean your head back on his shoulder and continue to listen to him talk. 

“Was he eager for it? Grabbing your legs and drooling all over himself?”

You hum out of approval at his words, because you damn right that’s what Vernon does and he’s fucking good at it too. 

“I fucking bet he was,” Seungcheol sighs softly against your neck, leaving a warm spot from his breath as he continues to slip his fingers up and down your pussy. He does this for a while, remaining silent and only listening to how wet you get, how swollen your clit becomes. “Did you get this wet for him too?” 

You nod again, relishing in the experience of his slow fingers working their magic on you, but then his fingers stop right at your clit and he shifts behind you. 

“Can’t have that.” He says, pushing his hips against your back and sliding his fingers down, plunging two of them into you in one go while holding you there against him. 

It’s not the feeling of his fingers that turns you on in that moment, it’s the speed of which he plunges them into you and the direct denial of you being just as wet for someone else. Why? You don’t know, but the dynamic is fun considering there is no strings attached at the end of the day, and if he wants to compete in terms of turning you on, you’re more than willing to participate in such an act. 

You can feel his effort with the way he curls his fingers, searching for that spot inside of you that Vernon finds with ease considering how many times he’s been inside of you. Seungcheol, only having touched you once before this, never expected to need your pleasure before his own until now. 

He watches from behind you. A little tremble of the legs, a small moan– he needs your body to react now as he continues to rub his fingers inside of you. And then, right there he feels you squeeze your legs around his hand, your own hands shooting to his wrist as if to still his movements. 

“That it?” He smiles, now putting more force behind what his fingers are doing and rendering you near useless as he continues to work you up. “Didn’t know you would be so sensitive here, listen to it, you’re dripping now.”

He’s going on his little ego boost, enjoying himself, as you sit against him and practically spiral into a world of sex-crazed sensitivity. His fingers hit that spot each time, causing your belly to sear with a burn of pleasure that you can’t help but shake and tremble at the feeling. He’s right, you’re dripping. You can feel it run down your ass, you can feel it against his sheets when you try to lift up for more, only to try and run away from it a moment later. 

And then, there comes the sounds. 

There is no clit stimulation to be had here, and you’re shocked at our your body forces sounds out of you. You could hold your breath, but the sound would only come out even more desperate as his never once stutters in pace.

And by the time he can feel your legs swing open, offering him full reign of your pussy, he straightens out his fingers and fucks them so deeply into you that you’re actually sighing from relief. No words can explain how good it feels, so you don’t try. 

“Come on,” He says between the sounds of his palm hitting your pussy with each inward fuck, “listen to how wet I’m making you.” 

You couldn’t avoid listening even if you wanted to, the sound squelching against the walls. You’re embarrassingly wet, except you’re not embarrassed at all. He’s doing exactly what he intended to do. The only thing is, you didn’t exactly see Seungcheol as the type to ask you to listen to your own sounds, reminding you that they’re for him. Asking you to admit it through more of those sounds, through more of that arousal dripping out of you.

You’ll never forgive yourself for letting him go that two weeks without calling you. 

“You want me to like you more so bad,” You manage to say in a snide way, despite the moan that comes out after. “What about you? You gonna go another two weeks without doing this to me? Giving it to someone else just to boost your ego?”

The way his fingers halt all movements and his cock twitches against your back at those cocky little words. God, you’re just like him. Perfect.

“Why, you want me to call you the next time someone goes down on me so you can make sure I don’t moan as good as I would with you?”

“Maybe,” You smile, fucking your hips forward on his fingers. “Seems to me like you’re into that, anyway.” 

“I am now.” He says, watching the way you fuck yourself against his fingers without shame or embarrassment.

Why wouldn’t you be his number one anyway? 

“Fuck, look at you.” He groans, feeling your back moving against his cock all while chasing the pleasure of his fingers. “You want to be filled so bad.”

Damn right you do. 

“Yeah?” He asks to your silence, taking back over with his fingers for a brief moment before pulling them out and loving how it still drips down his palm. 

You nod silently, letting your legs relax and fall open wide as he shifts behind you. You can feel his hands rub against your waist and urge you to lift. Instantly, you do, because again, you definitely want to be filled up by now, and he’s looking like the best person for the job. 

On your knees, you practically let yourself fall forward so that you can present yourself to him. Face down, ass up. He loves it, quickly grabbing a pillow from behind him and nudging you with it. 

You accept the kind offer and a pillow before he, ultimately, will fuck you into the next dimension. And that’s exactly what he intends to do. 

You’re so wet by now that he can see your pussy pulsing when he grabs his length in his hand, wincing at the sensitivity and ignoring how pathetically heavy it feels in his hand. He knows the relief he’s about to get is going to him him like a ton of fucking bricks, and he doesn’t care. This is the point of seeing you again, after all.

Once again, you forgot. The head of his cock slips between your folds and instantly you’re sighing out of relief and panic. Surely you’re wet enough that the slide will be easier than it was last time. Surely you can handle this.

Except you can’t. At least not immediately. 

He slides in about two inches before he feels your body go frigid. He lands a soothing palm against your lower back when he pauses, struggling not to slam into you all at once. 

“Relax–” He comments, out of breath himself and rubbing your lower back even more. 

He feels the walls of your pussy clench, and clench, and fucking clench, until finally it relaxes around him.

“There you go,” He smirks from behind you, pressing in a bit more and releasing a moan at the way you tense up again. His cock wildly twitches as your pussy hugs only half of his length. Your moan comes out whiny, and he watches the way you bury your face into the pillow. 

He rubs again against your back, encouraging you to relax.

“You can take it,” He says sweetly, pushing past the way you clench around him and pressing in further. “you’ve done it before.” He continues, listening to you pant into his pillow and resist the urge to pull away from him. 

“Goddamn, so good.” He compliments you upon bottoming out. He can feel your body adjust to him and it’s entirely overstimulating, still, he pushes past the feeling and holds himself in place. “Taking all of it like this, shit.”

He struggles not to call you pet names at this moment, opting instead to continue that massage against your lower back until your walls unclench and ultimately, move yourself against him. The moan he lets out this time is ungodly, and it’s like that one movement from you unleashes his control and in an instant he’s pulling out and slamming back in again.

The room that was just small pants and moans has now become that of the sound of slapping, moaning, and practically crying out of pleasure. 

You can’t help the feeling inside of you, a specific type of feral that drives you to meet his hips each time he fucks in, and moan each time his cock hits that same spot his fingers were toying with earlier. That hand on your back helps none by now, as you continuously feel yourself be stretched open by him.

He fucks so deeply, so roughly, and you can’t help but love the difference now between him and Vernon. Which, yeah, Vernon is great with his cock but you’re usually the one riding him to high hell. Seungcheol is really giving it to you right now, making sure you feel every inch, every twitch, every goddamn vein that pulses against your g-spot. 

You really can’t help it, when you lift up entirely, forcing that hand on your back to wrap around your middle, up until that same hand grips your tit and he’s sinking lower on his knees to fuck up inside of you. 

You stay like that, reaching your arms behind him and pulling his head forward, up against your ear as your entire body shakes at each thrust. There, he talks, and he talks, and he doesn’t fucking shut up. You don’t want him to.

His voice is raspy, out of breath, and super deep. It wasn’t like this the first time you fucked him, and maybe that’s because neither of you felt entirely too desperate for the other. Right now though? With him pleading for you to bend back over, but still holding you tightly against his chest? You know it’s because it slows his pace down, and he wants to fuck hard right now. 

“No,” You smile through a moan as he slides in and out of you. “I can feel it more like this.”

That alone is enough for him. He wants you to feel all of him. He wants you to be the one calling when you’re horny. 

“Call him,” Seungcheol rasps out, not once stuttering his pace as he continues to plunge himself deep into you. “It’s only fair.”

And you know, if your phone wasn’t across the room with the rest of your clothes, maybe you would.

~

[theautisticwriter]

Love Letters: Yandere! Helluva Boss characters X G/N Reader

Characters- Blitzø, Moxxie, Millie, Loona, Stolas, Asmodeus, Fizzarolli

Show- Helluva Boss

Genre- romantic, yandere

Summary- Mini love letters from your not so secret stalkers admirers!

Warnings- swearing, pet names, yandere themes, mentions of planned kidnapping, stalking, delusional characters, unwanted attention

Word count- 1.5K

Extra notes- I have a Hazbin Hotel version of this uploaded as well!

key: f/l = first letter of your name, y/n = your name, n/n = your nickname

———————————————————

By this point you know who it is y/n, I’m the only person COOL enough to send u romantic as fuck letters like the old people do

Sorry for eating the food u made last night, when i was raiding ur fridge it looked so fucking good (and it was, who knew u could cook :P). i left u a pony as a replacement, u can’t eat it but it’ll make u think of me ;) and that pony cost me a FUCK ton of money, collectors addition and shit. i know, bad fucking ass right??

the stupid shitty loud alarm u installed didn’t work when i came in, ud be much safer with me and loony. that’s the plan anyways babe, u have NO idea the fucking creeps that live down here, they’re all fucking animals and ur…not, a fucking asshole i guess.

i drew you smth (it’s the thing stuck on the back of the envelope with the glitter glu)

^glue

it’s me and u holding hands, like other couples do. we’re better than those corny fuckers tho, hence the crowns on our heads.

ignoring my texts, BLOCKING ME (still upset about this BY THE WAY) and then ignoring my very nice letters is kinda a dick move f/l, but it’s whatevs. everything is almost ready for ur move in. i cleaned up n everything :D

from the only bitch worth ur time,

blitzø

&lt;3 (ignore that, moxxie threw a gun at me and my hand slipped, might fire him)

———————————————————

Hiya sweet cheeks!!!

It’s Mills here, just checking in! Via letter! Ain’t that just the fanciest little thing? Mox said it’s the best way to show thought and care to someone, so here’s all my thoughts and care, just for you!

How’ve you been? Good I hope, I’ve been just peachy thanks for asking! My Ma and Pa are super excited to meet ya one day, they’ve even started planning the wedding! Now I told them to slow their horses down, and not the overwhelm ya, we’ll get to that don’t you worry darlin.

Im just so excited to write this letter for you! Ain’t it so romantic?? I’m practically squealing in delight at the thought of you opening this and swoonin’, that’s what you’re doing, right?

Now i’m writing this on my break, and my boss really needs me back in the game! I got employ of the month! Most amount of kills, with the best and bloodiest results baby!

Until next time sweetheart,

Your Mills! ♡

———————————————————

Hi y/n,

It’s Moxxie here, I was a little nervous to send this letter to you, but I always try to follow my heart, and my heart was telling me to communicate with you in the most romantic way I know how due to our current circumstances of being so far away. It’s hard, for the both of us i’m sure, but we’ll be okay y/n.

As much as I don’t get along with my father, he has been helpful with my preparations for your arrival. It’s a big deal, moving in together. I’m sure your anxious, I am too, but in the best way possible. Love is pure, and can make somebody feel whole, it’s a wonderful feeling. I never want that to be taken away from me, and you are the source of all my love. That’s why we need to be together, being only half a demon isn’t good for the soul.

We can do lots of fun things together as well, like go to the opera, or to musicals, or I can show you my shooting skills. My boss says that I have a pretty good shot, which is the biggest compliment he’s ever given me. And we can do things you like too, marriage is equal of course. Obviously, this will all happen later done the line, you’ll need time to adjust, and I understand that. I understand you.

I’m running out of room on my page, but I will write to you again tomorrow. Please respond? Just once, y/n? It’d be nice, to hold something from you since I can’t hold you yet.

All my love,

Your Moxxie <3

———————————————————

Uh, hi?

Wait, you don’t put ‘uh’ in letters do you? Or put wait whilst you think, fuck shit fuck

Sorry, I’m new to this. Normally I just send a text to people but, your phone is off at the moment I think? Or you lost it? Or you blocked me?

Either way, I’ll send you these stupid letter things until it’s back on. So, uh, what are you up to? Blitz has been up my ass about meeting you, heads up, when I come get you and bring you to our room he’s gonna go all psycho dad mode and integrate you, but he’ll back off after a while. He’s a dick sure, but he does want me to be happy. And your, likeable or whatever, so i’m sure you’ll get along.

Once you get comfortable at home with me, Blitz said you could work with me at I.M.P. You’ll be like the co-secretary or something. You won’t be put in danger, I won’t let that happen, you’ll just get to sit with me. We can watch things together, if you wanted.

I guess i’ll see you soon, how do you end these?

See you,

Love from,

Regards?

Bye y/n,

Loona.

———————————————————

My dearest y/n,

I hope this letter finds you well. I yearn for your presence here, besides me. It’s quite lonely without you, I will admit my dear. It would be oh so wonderful if you could write back. I understand you may be preoccupied with your current activities, but I can’t help myself from desiring a response. I know, it’s selfish of me to expect you to reply to my letters when you’ll be here with me shortly, but I can’t keep my thoughts at bay at the moment.

Your face is a constant in my mind, night and day, asleep and awake, your voice in my mind calms me when I need it most, your smile brightens the bleariest of moments and so on. You can imagine the difficulties I’m facing with no response from you, but that’s alright. If you can’t write back to me dear, I won’t pressure you. Your time is precious, and we will have all the time in hell quite soon. Isn’t that exciting?

I can give you the life you deserve n/n, any luxuries or mundanities you wish for will be handed to you on a silver platter. Or a golden one, if that’s more to your liking? We can properly discuss the specifics once we are together. How thrilling, the though of you and I together at last.

We truly are written in the stars!

Yours until the end of the sky and then some,

Stolas.

———————————————————

Hey there baby,

It’s been a while, huh? I’m sorry if you feel neglected babe, it’s so hard keeping in contact with you when you’re so far away hun. Wouldn’t it be so much better if you were here with me? Sure I’ve got a lot of meetings, being a sin and all, but I’d be at your beck and call n/n, you could even be my new excuse to leave those awful “business” discussions. They barely talk business with me, it’s just complete bullshit babe.

I know the lust ring can be intimidating, we have quite the reputation, but I assure you, love is not a foreign concept to me. Romance is one of my most favourite things! Though that’s a secret, let’s keep that between us, yeah? That side of me is reserved for you n/n.

It’s so boring over here without you, I feel like i’m just lounging around and last time I checked, I was the lust sin, not the sloth sin. We’d have so much fun together babe! Can’t you picture it? Even if you can’t yet, I can wait. Having you near me will be enough, you are enough just as you are.

Sincerely yours,

Asmodeus (Ozzie) xoxo

———————————————————

Heya cutie!

Letters are a lot harder to write than I thought they’d be y’know? I’ve rewritten this like 16 times already, sheesh. It just feels so awkward, I can’t see your reaction to my words which means I can’t fix any mistakes I’ve made :(. I’m sure I haven’t made any though! Right? This letters going really well so far and is definitely wooing you, right, y/n?

Hah, I’m asking questions as if you can reply right away. Silly old me, I don’t know what i’m worrying about! We’re meant to be together. I know it’s super sappy, but we’re like soulmates. Soulmates are bound to be together! That’s why I’m bringing you home soon, I can’t wait! I’ve got sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo many awesome tricks to show you!

And, the best news, I quit my job!! ༘⋆-ˋˏ ༘⋆-ˋˏ This means, we will have a LOT more time with each other, and you don’t have to worry about Mammon being possessive over me, because fuck him! I’m my own clown! Or, well, your clown.

I can’t wait to see you! This is going to be great for us, I pinky promise :P

Love from,

Fizzarolli !!!! ༘⋆!!,-!ˋˏ!!!

———————————————————

[simpjaes]

mtl to be into pegging.............

MTL: hyung line + to be into pegging

most

★ jake: the obvious first choice is jake. i think he'd be into equality in the bedroom when he's not absolutely pussy drunk. i don't think he would prefer it over fucking you, but i also know he'd be into prostate milking and cumming in different ways that don't have to involve penetrating you. i uh...i think he'd be into double-headed dildo stuff with you too. idk, like the idea of being sooooooo messy, both of you panting and whining for more......til you're both out of breath and all fucked out. and with pegging, he'd be holding the base of his cock while you slide in deep, hitting his prostate repeatedly til he has to let go and grab onto you or the sheets, ultimately drenching himself in cum, crying through it. AAAAAAAAAAAA, anyway, i think he could ride, be ridden, and enjoy all of it. jake is truly capable of anything and everything in the bedroom and i just think that's sooooo fucking neat

☆ sunghoon: he probably wouldn't like, ask for it or anything but be down if you are. most men probably do like having the g-spot in their ass stimulated though. i see it as, he'd probably do it more on his own for experimenting purposes bc jake told him some crazy stuff, ended up liking it, then you'd catch him one day all bent over with his fingers in his ass :( you'd of course find it quite interesting bc it's not like you haven't thought about it. Asking him if he would wanna try to take more than a couple of fingers. he'd definitely be like "hahaha....yeah i guess", trying to hide how willing he is to be as stretched open as you are for him.

★ jay: some would say jay would never. but this is my blog and //i// say he would absolutely at least try it and probably fucking lie about liking it while absolutely drained and covered in his own cum. i'm talking, absolutely drenched up to his chin in his own cum while looking you in the eye and saying "idk if i liked that, kinda hurt more than i was expecting." and like, i think after the fact he wouldn't really request to do it again but also wouldn't be totally against it on a rare occasion. after all, he can at least admit like three months later that he's never felt an orgasm like that and when you pressed down on his abdomen and fucked him real deep, he couldn't breathe bc it felt so good. also probably not against a finger or two in his ass while he's got your legs spread. after all, at the end of the day, it's just pleasure and he's a big fan of not only feeling good himself, but seeing that glint in your eye when you make him feel good too.

☆ heeseung: i mean, he loooooooooooooooves anal but if anyone is getting fucked in the ass it's gonna be you, sorry babe. i think, similar to jay, he might be ok with a finger in his ass or maybe a bit of ass eating [gotta be on his terms], but i don't think he'd let you have that much control over his body. he sees how you act when he pushes in, he feels how tight it is and how pained you look from time to time. why in the fuck would he wanna feel that himself rather than the way your walls hug his dick? even when you tell him you love it, even when you try and argue like "well if you get to put it in my ass, i get to put it in yours!!" nah. you know better than anyone that he calls the shots, and if he wanted something that big in his ass he'd just try it on his own because again, no one is gonna be allowed to see him like that, not even you.

least

[bitchlessdino]

OMFG!!! i just read that chan smut and omg. THE DUALITY!! i literally love all the smuts that you write. also my birthday is february 6th so, if you don’t mind, could you write me a smut with my bias/biases. as you know i have a daddy kink. my biases are chan, seungcheol, and hoshi. you don’t have to. love you and thank you for the dino smut i absolutely loved it!-🎧

Pairing: Fem!reader x seungcheol x chan x soonyoung

Genre: smutty smut smut

Word count: 4.7K

Tags: poly, reader wearing a dress, exhibitionism, voyeurism, pet names (princess), degradation, praise kink, brief choking, fingering, oral (rec. And giving), unprotected sex (please assume everyone is clean, don't do this w/o prepping IRL), pussy slapping, ass play, triple penetration (i know), daddy kink, mean chan, sweet Cheol

Summary: it was just a dumb little party game, gets taken too seriously in teh best way possible. Happy fucking birthday to you.

Author note: first off, happy birthday! You’re always active here and sending me ideas and I appreciate you so much. Second off the fact that your list is my exact top three made this very self-indulging. I thank you for that. Please enjoy me writing out of of my darkest fantasies 😭

“Fuck. Marry. Kill. Seungcheol, Chan, Soonyoung. Go.”

You scorn up at Mingyu, “Didn't know we were still in middle school?”

You were celebrating your birthday with a couple of close friends having some drinks and good quality takeout at your place. Somewhat small for others but what you preferred it. Having all the attention on you in a public place was not your scene. These small intimate gatherings were more your speed. Then again, it prompted dumb shit like this.

Mingyu was not many shots in, but he looked like a toddler that learned to walk for the first time, so it was fair to say he drunk out of his mind. “Don’t cop out, answer the-hic-damn question.”

Your gaze shifted from the three men, all equally waiting for a response. You take a moment to linger in each thought of each man, internally listing out any and all of their redeeming qualities. 

Seungcheol, who pretended to not care about your answer, peeks at you through his peripheral. He was the impossibly attractive guy next door, figuratively and literally. It was easy to tell he does everything with purpose and excluded this natural confidence and charisma. Not to mention he was a guy you could rely on like most people already do.

Then we have Soonyoung, the man full of life. If you could describe him in one word, it’d be ‘crazy’. This was the same guy that commits to being a tiger but calling it his ‘brand, and let’s not forget his astrology chart, which you’re not gonna get into. He’s fucking hot, don’t get it wrong, but also the strangest man you’ve ever met on planet Earth. 

Now finally Chan, the cute man sitting next to you, eyes coated in nectar-like sweetness with a soft smile on his face. He’s always has been a sweet guy since you met him. He’s amicable and seemingly harmless, which made people feel comfortable around him. You can’t go wrong with Chan.

You visibly ponder, licking your lips, before answering.

“Fuck…Soonyoung, marry…Seungcheol, and I guess kill Chan? But I can’t kill him,” you look to the man mentioned and interlock arms, “so, I’ll just have to kiss him.”

You press your lips against his cheek, laughing emitting from onlookers. A warm blush spreads across his cheeks and he looks down at his feet. His smile turns bittersweet. “Great. Nice.”

“You’ll always be my favorite buddy, Chan. I could never kill you,” you coo, a finger lightly stroking at his red cheeks before he lightly shoves you away, rolling his eyes, and grabs another beer.

You initially don’t think much of it, it was only a dumb ice breaker after all. However, that event had his friends teasing him the rest of the night (but what’s new) and Chan was being the joke of the night, while Seungcheol was poking fun at you instead. Every chance he got, he’s saying things like he’s ‘waiting on that proposal,’ or ‘should I get started on the wedding planning?’ And Soonyoung seems to be a step behind the older gentleman, playfully suggesting what things he does make him ‘fuckable.’ He could be only cutting up limes for shots, or posing on the back of a wall asking, ‘this do anything for you?’ Attention was on you mainly, as expected, but that didn’t warrant the number of times you had gotten flustered.

Nonetheless, everything that night seemed all in good fun,  a birthday worth having. At some point in the night, Soonyoung passed out on the couch, while everyone else was preparing to leave. Seungcheol offers to help clean up, it was very neighborly of him, which you always welcome. Chan, in the midst of all this, was nowhere to be found and it caused you to worry, calling his phone with no answer. You weren’t apart from him long typically in these social situations.

“Thanks for helping out, Cheol.”

“Anything for my betrothed,” he teases.

“Shut up,” you lightly elbow, “It’s late, I’m gonna wash up to sleep. Just make sure to lock the door when you leave, okay.”

He nods off your request and lets you venture off to your room. He pays it no mind, finishing off some dishes, unable to hear anything underneath the sound of the sink’s running water.

On the other end of your closed bedroom door, you make a startled expression once you realize what, or should you say who was behind it. “Chan? I was wondering where you were.”

He softly scoffs from the mattress, slouching in his spot, looking as if he waited for your return. “Really? Didn’t seem to think you had a second thought about me.”

“Of course I did.” You walk up towards him and pull him up from the mattress by the arm, smiling at him. “I can’t help but think about you all the time.”

“But you’d kill me, hmm?” He tears his wrist away from your touch, drawing his face closer to yours, “That’s not what you said last week up against my bedroom window.”

You purse your lips in amusement, remembering that day all too clearly. It was moving day for him and out of all people, he called you. He mentioned needing a few boxes brought in and everyone else seemed busy, little did you know, he had other plans that night with you. Those plans are how many times he can get you to cum within an hour, or how pretty you look pressed up against a clean glass window. 

“But they don’t know that.” You retort.

“You embarrassed me out there, you know,” His eyes narrow at you, ignoring your attempts of pandering as you flirtatiously tease up his arm, “The friend-zoning, the familial kiss, the rejection, and in front of all our friends. I didn’t like it.”

You softly laugh, fingering through his pretty brown hair, “I’m sorry, but it'd be obvious if I said one of the other two. Could you find in your heart to forgive me?”

He turns away his eyes, feigning thought. “Well, since it’s your birthday, I could…doesn't mean I will.”

He tugs on you similarly the way you did to kiss him, only this time his lips locked on lips, and his skin was noticeably flushed from alcohol and lust. Your eyes naturally flutter shut, arms instinctively reach up for his face, cupping his warm cheeks. You melt in his touch, brazen and ruthless, your arousal basically dripping a hot stain in your underwear as his teeth pull at your bottom lip deliciously.

He strokes your sides, hands drawing the curve of your posterior and clutching in a hearty squeeze, a whimper leaving your lips. You feel the corner of his lips quirk up, eyes pressing into you with a smug expression. “Are you like this with all your ‘buddies’?”

You shake your head with a cheeky smile on your face, “No.”

He hums amused, lips drawing close to your ear, his decadent voice pricking your ear. “I want you to fall apart for me. Can you do that, hmm? Can you do that for Daddy?”

Your abdomen tenses up, a sultry moan escaping you, “Yes, daddy.”

“Such a good girl,” He draws out.

He pulls the zipper down from your dress, pulling off the straps from your shoulders, chuckling against your skin, as your outfit hits the floor. You giggle as he hoists you up, your legs locking around his waist, meeting his lips again more feverishly than the last. He runs you on top of your dresser, parting your legs to stand between them.

“Your turn,” You reach for the hem of his hoodie, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the side of the room, “That’s better. Happy birthday to me…”

Hand trailing over Chan’s chest, down his torso, tracing over every dent of his abs, making you lightheaded and giddy. You pull on the top of his jeans, meeting him in a kiss, they become the next article of clothing to come off, following his boxer briefs and grasp his length. His nose nuzzles your cheek, hot breath on your skin, and his digits press up against the fabric of your panties to dip in the wet spot and plunge into your clothed arousal. You pleasantly gasp, hips jerking in his direction, one hand combing through his hair.

“Oh, daddy…”

His smile grows wide. “You’re so wet already, sweet girl.”

He allows himself a taste, humming at the familiar flavor, and pushes past your underwear to gradually thrust them inside, watching uneven breaths escape your lips. He revels in your whimpers, pushing them deeper inside you. The airiness of your voice was additive, but what was more addictive in the look on your face when he sees you close. “That feels good, huh? You like my fingers fucking you like this?”

You were practically vibrating in your seat, and your back arches in distress, gripping the edge of the dresser, “God, yes…You’re so good to me, daddy.”

It was a matter of time before his cock would replace his fingers, swiping your taste on your tongue for you to sample. Moaning, your lips wrap around their slender length, your arousal coating the surface of your tongue and inside your mouth. You hold him by the wrist, his knuckles swallow inside you before his very eyes, sucking your neck dry from his hands as he fucks his fingers into your burning hot entrance.

You whimper into his palm before he decides to pull it away and wrap it around your throat, meanwhile, his cock finds entry in your warmth, your fluttering walls welcoming him. Your hips falling slightly below the dresser's flat surface, you gasp for air. Your vision blurs as much as your abdomen clenches, submitting to Chan’s rough touch. He leverages you by holding you up the back of your knee while your other leg hung over his shoulder, snapping his hips back into you with such ferocity, a throaty moan falling short of every thrust. He sounded scrumptious, like fresh honey oozing out of its comb, you wanted to lick every part of him.

“What do we have here?” 

Your helping hand for the party has finally found your helping hand in bed (or this case the dresser), rutting in you like two rabbits in mating season. Chan doesn’t stop his pace, only a smile growing wider on his face. “I guess the jig is up.”

“You’re just gonna keep fucking her while I’m here, kid?”

Chan only grows cockier when you show no sign of change, still moaning his name, “Why shouldn’t I, she sure likes it. Don’t you, filthy birthday girl?”

You nod, “Y-yes, daddy.”

Seungcheol looks impressed, crossing his arms together, he can’t help but enjoy the view. The times he imagined you looking a mess in front of him went on but no image in his head could do justice to the real thing, even if it was Chan’s dick inside you. Your sweat made your beautiful body glisten under the lamp lights, your pretty little pants endearing as they steadily leave your lips, and your messy hair so damn pullable that made his dick twitch.

“Need some help?” He offers nonchalantly.

Chan looks back at the older man for the first time, almost barking back a no, but instead takes a moment to consider and turns to you. His eyes flit back to you, holding you by your face, hips unbearably enthusiastic. “What do you say, huh, you want two cocks in you? Hmm, is that what you want?”

You choke up on your drool, tears already running down your faces as you respond in a hard nod, then proceed to be thrown back on the mattress to have Seungcheol witness your lewd form in its entirety. His hands go to the tent in his pants, palming himself anxiously. He knew you were beautiful beyond words, but there was no other beauty than the way you were almost naked. Your arms come up to your chest, shielding your stiff peaks but at the same time emphasizing the roundness of your breasts.

“W-what?” You ponder up at him, your pretty eyes looking back in a way that made Seungcheol want to scream. “I’m a mess, a-aren’t I?”

“A very pretty mess,” Seungcheol reiterates.

“Of course she is.” Chan sits beside you on the bed, pushing hair away from your face and pressing his lips to your ear, “How about you get his dick wet first, birthday girl?”

“Okay,” you answer back eagerly, trudging forward and pulling Seungcheol by his belt and carefully removing it from him.

Seungcheol gives a look of astonishment, a quick glance thrown to see pride written all over the younger man’s face before turning back to you, already pulling down his pants and exposing his cock slapping on your face.

“Wow.” You gasp, wrapping your hand around his girth, feeling his weight.

“Think you can take it, princess?”

Your heart pitter-patters at the name Seungcheol gives you and you let out a hearty ‘yes.’ Chan stays behind you, hands cupping your breasts, fondling your flesh, he becomes a little devil in your ear. “What are you waiting for then?”

You inch closer to Seungcheol, his angry tip on the center of your tongue. You drag your pink muscle over his shaft, tracing over every bulging vein, hearing him suck in his breath. Your other hand cradles his balls, kneading them lightly in your palm. When you push your head over his length, your mouth coats its surface area, feeling like a new, yet familiar world to him.

“S-shit.” His hips twitch forward, hands against his hips.

You bob down to the base, filling your cheeks and stretching your lips. He feels your saliva dribbling down his thigh, seeing the same scene happen over your chin, while your throat takes him with a gutty grit, taking all of him. When you gag slightly, having him almost pulls away in concern, but Chan takes initiative and combs through your hair, slamming you down on Seungcheol’s crotch, a shit-eating grin on his face. The older man almost doubles over, hand firmly planted on your shoulder in anguish.

“Mmh…god…that–”

“Look at you taking his dick like a perfect little slut,” Chan exclaims before mouthing over your neck, love bites adorning your soft skin, “you can’t wait to be fucking filled with cock, can’t you?”

You lacked the ability to be verbal, only vibrating a confirmation around Seungcheol’s cock, the man shuddering in the process. “Princess…”

Chan's hands snake around to your clit, rubbing it with his digits, his firm chest pressing into your sweaty back, the shaking in your body evident. “Take it deeper, slut.”

Tears burn your eyes, hands lifting to press behind Seungcheol, warming his cock in your mouth until you can’t breathe. The said man lets out his share of obscenities, his hands on either side of your head, fucking your mouth at a desperate man’s pace until he feels it swells well past its limit, “Fuck. Fuck!”

He cums hard, long, and deep. The trail of ivory slides down your throat with no warning, Seungcheol fills you to the brim, even overflowing to the corner of your lips. “So…good…”

“Shit, you lasted a lot shorter than I expected, old man.” Chan smugly grins.

The older man tries catching his breath, but not without letting the other man hear it. “Shut up…Chan.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

The voice resonates from the doorway, a barely awake Soonyoung blinks at the scene in front of him in confusion, adjusting to the change of lighting from the pitch-black living room. “Huh, what are you eating, y/n? A hoagie?”

“Oh, god.” Chan groans, bowing his head. 

Seungcheol couldn’t pull out of you soon enough, the remainder of his cum swallowed up by you in the process. You picked up the courage to be the first one to ask, “How long have you been standing there, Soonie?” 

“Not sure…wait. Are you guys having sex?”

Seungcheol pinches the bridge of his nose, visibly cringing. “Yes, Soonyoung.”

“Do you want to join,” you suggest, exchanging looks with both men already involved.

Their eyes initially express reluctance but eventually, they nod in agreement. Chan whispers an “alright,” in your ear before kissing the side of your face. Seungcheol being still very fresh to their current situation had no complaints, nor was he in the place to. They all redirect back to the intruder, and you ask him again. “Do you want to join us, Soonyoung?”

A pink tinge on his cheeks as your naked body slips from the bed gracefully, sliding down your underwear to the ground. “Join? Can I do that?”

His eyes locked on your prowess, your soft laughter sending off butterflies in his stomach as your hands crawls up to his face, stroking it endeared, “Yes, you can. Will you?”

“P-please…”

You guide him by the hand and bring him over to the bed, joining the rest. You slip the worn-out muscle tee over his head to toss it aside. Once you meet his lips, your hands run through his slept-in hair and melt against you like a dream. You were like taffy, sweet yet salty, no doubt from what he witnessed earlier, but he didn’t care. Forgetting the others around him, he pulls you in his lap, your wet cunt rubbing into his denim jeans as his hands take care of your body, collecting its warmth.

Seungcheol simply watches, running his hand down his body and stroking himself, feeling the tension build back up in cock. Chan joins him from across the bed. Licking his lips, he locks on the way your hips grind against Soonyoung’s, blood rushing towards his cheeks, wondering whether he was turned on imagining it was him or that it was genuinely fun watching.

Your bare skin meshes against Soonyoung, inhaling the stretch of alcohol and his expensive cologne etched into his skin, “Mmh…Soonie…”

“Shit,” the man moans, holding your bare ass in his hands, “I really wanted to do this. You have no idea.”

“You came at a good time too, Soonyoung. We were just about to fuck her together,” Chan doesn’t forget to mention, “She was ready to be filled up with two cocks, what’s one more?”

Soonyoung grins against your lips. “Three cocks in our pretty baby huh…I’m certainly glad I woke up.”

The men strip down to their birthday suits. Chan, taking less time than the others, utilizes this opportunity to retrieve the lube you kept in the drawer of your bedside table. Seungcheol kisses you for the first time that night, sensually stroking your back and parting your hair, while Soonyoung lips attach to your breasts, feeling your nipples grow hard on his tongue as he cradles them. It really hits you what’s happening when Chan squirts the cold lube on the center of your folds, rubbing it between his fingers, up in your warmth, before sliding down to prep your other entrance. 

His middle finger carefully tests the entryway, teasing the outer edge, before the lube lets him slide in and adjusts to your grip. Your moans were hard to suppress when he playfully slid them in and out and shot them deeper inside when you ask for more, to which he can’t help but laugh. “Cute little slut, taking it up your ass so well for us.”

He tucks in another digit, curling it inside you, ramming it, and preparing you for every opportunity.

You flex your fingers and toes, “Please Chan, I’m r-ready.”

“Are you sure?” He teases.

“Yes, please…”

Chan obliges, letting you go with a gentle thumb to the opening. They all position themselves, having discussed it moments ahead of time. Soonyoung has his back on the bed with your back hovering inches above his chest. He fingers the hole Chan had gotten ready and made sure it was adjusted to his liking, squeegeeing the excess lube. You twitch on top of him, finally feeling the tip of his cock circle at your entrance and slowly make its way inside you. Your jaw drops open, his member suffocates between your walls.

“Christ…” Soonyoung gasps, “You feel heavenly, Y/n.”

He holds you up from the back of your knees, spreading you wide and pretty, and taking a slow, deep stroke inside you. You let out a low growl, throwing your head back, and reveling in Soonyoung’s gentle pace. “Thats…so…good…”

Chan takes care of himself with aid of the scene, spitting in his hand, and his cock grows to his touch. “You look so fucking good stretched out.”

He approaches you, falling to his knees, and buries his face in your vacant warmth, still stroking himself. He licks stripes up your core, moistening his lips, as the tip of his nose brushes against your clit. Your stomach sucks in, ecstasy enflaming your core. “Fuck, daddy…”

Chan grows only harder and devours you faster, his tenor voices aches inside you, feeding his everlasting lust. Soonyoung takes his time with you still, hands now falling to your thighs, spreading you apart for Chan’s convenience, his hips gradually ramping up the speed. 

Seungcheol is respectful in watching, only inching forward when you beckon him closer with moans on your tongue, mouth still wide and welcoming. He takes advantage of your invite, knees meeting the bed, reuniting his length with your mouth, and seeing you take him just as hard (if not harder) as before. Hands land in your hair, straining your neck but filling out of your throat, that glorious sensation coming back to Seungcheol almost immediately. “Pretty mouth…Princess…take me good, hmm..”

“That’s so hot, fuck, what the fuck?” Soonyoung was being overwhelmed in the best way possible, bouncing you harder in his lap, leaving the man with his mouth full smiling with less work to do.

Chan smacks your center fold with the tip of his fingers, feeling you flinch under his touch, and he does it again and again. 

“Daddy hurtss…but…feels good…” You can’t help you mumble with Seungcheol’s cock pressing to your lips.

“S-shit, you’re gonna make me cum in my hand,” Chan shutters, honest to his word, “bad girl, but I don’t think I can wait anymore.”

He picks himself off the ground, his cock visibly furious. He rubs your slit with the tip, landing a lash to your clit, your sound of ache music to his ears, before he parts your folds and slides inside you, joining Soonyoung. He presses your legs back, Chan rocks in you in a steady rhythm opposite to Soonyoung. “Mm, daddy’s cock with Soonie’s, l-love so…m-much…”

“Such a—ah—cockslut. T-that good, hmm? You like me fucking you with Soonyoung inside you, hmm?”

“Y-y—Mmh..”

“Say it, fucking tell me you love our cocks splitting you open.”

“I-I love your c-cocks split-t-ting me o-open.”

You clench your body in anxiously, taking both cocks the best you can, but your body can only hold back so much cum.

“Look, who’s desperate to cum?” Chan observes, “Well, you can cum all you want, we’re not stopping.”

Chan is a man of his word. Even when your hips shake sporadically in front of them all, no one's pace falters. You were filled in all ends, an eternal loop of euphoria, the pleasant ache of your muscles easily manageable as long as you don’t lose this sensation. 

Seungcheol ruts your mouth with his eyes shut, only hearing the work your mouth puts in and pulls out when feels you’ve had enough. Your slobber prints your cheeks, a tired look in your eyes, but a manic smile on your face. He wipes some saliva away with his thumb, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “I’ll be sure to be slow at first, okay?”

Heart racing, you nod at his message, eyes drifting to see him place himself between you and Chan. Knees planted in the mattress beside either side of Soonyoung, he eases his length in your entrance on top of Chan’s, and unearthly sound follows coming from all around. Not a dry eye in the room, Seungcheol takes your calves and pressed them against his shoulders, squeezing with Chan in an uneven rhythm. 

“FUCK!” He bites into your leg, muffling his groans, filling you deep, “take me too, you can handle it. I believe in you.”

You scream in pleasure, your holes being fucked and filled, nodding your head forth and back. “Fuck, yes, like that, please…so full…”

The way it feels like everything at once, you can help but be overfilled with pride. You couldn’t describe in words how it felt, only process the event enough to scream and moan.

“That’s it, take us. Never have three cocks fuck your hole like this,” Chan points out through his sweaty pants.

Soonyoung simply groans deeply in your ear, snaking his hand over your clit, pinching the slick skin, your moans only growing louder and louder, and he then sticks his digits in your moisture, as if you were full enough. “You’re so talented, Y/n. Should’ve fucked you sooner…”

The sounds echoing in the room were like a broken record, waves of euphoria played over and over. It didn’t matter how long it took or how many positions were involved, you felt your heart rate taking ups and downs up they eventually grew tired.

“I’m gonna cum in you, that okay,” Seungcheol requests.

“Y-yes, d-daddy…” A blush deepens the surface of Seungcheol’s cheeks upon hearing that.

On the other hand, hearing his title being misused, Chan gets ticked off. He fuck harder with remorse, reminding you only one person can hold such a title, all while Seungcheol drops his load inside, coating you in snow white, grunting in you as his full length pushed the cum deep inside you until he finally pulls away. You open your mouth again, nonverbally asking to finish him off where he has before and he lets you, stroking what's left against your tongue.

Soonyoung follows soon after, his hips losing patience, “C-cum, in your ass, baby?” 

“Yes, please, Soonyoung…” You answer sweetly and he wastes no time, holding his cum deep in your ass after shooting hot cum in your backside until it’s dripping out of the edge.

“Good little cumslut, should I give you my gift too?”

Chan doesn’t even let you answer, encouraged by your startled, shrieks. Finally, his cum spurts from his cock, mixing itself with Seungcheol remnants and pulling out to spray on your torso and fall against your flushed skin, showing you once again he never planned on giving you any mercy. You fall limp against the mattress, ivory honey trailing on your chest, stomach, cunt, and ass. The two of the older men lay beside you, fatigued as you were. Chan tears away from the scene at the moment to come back with wet towels. He tosses one to each of the men before coming to sit at the edge of your feet, wiping away the mess like he always does.

“Should’ve let you lick it up, but fuck it. It’s your birthday,” Chan jesters with a soft grin.

“I would’ve enjoyed it though,” you butt in.

He rolls his eyes, “Yeah, but I like taking care of you.”

Soonyoung and Seungcheol grin upon hearing that, finding their younger friend endearing even after such an unfathomable event, both glancing to see you smile at his words. The intimacy piques both men’s curiosity, erupting all kinds of questions.

Seungcheol shifts his gaze from both you and Chan, smiling knowingly, “You two do this a lot?” 

“And you've been hiding this from us for how long?” Soonyoung chimes in with a cheeky grin, ready to tease you both.

“How did this even happen?”

“Chan’s meaner than I thought, Y/n, did you know that? Is that what you like about him?”

“Chan? Chan? When I lived next door?”

“Seriously, how long was I asleep?”

“I’ve never cummed so much in my life. How the fucked did you do that?”

“Can you guys call me about the next orgy?”

The opposing duo laughs, finding the situation amusing already. Chan squeezes himself between you and Seungcheol, nuzzling his face in your neck as he cuddles you, “Well, ‘buddy’ are you gonna answer their questions?”

You roll your eyes and clear your throat, taking your time in answering, still breathless, “I’m definitely calling you both over again.”

[atinylittlepain]

gif by @manny-jacinto

Baby Blue - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

joel miller masterlist

Joel loses a bet to Ellie and is forced to chaperone a dance in Jackson. He might not mind it as much when he sees that their pretty neighbor is also chaperoning.

warnings | 18+ light on the angst, heavy on fluff, SMUT

a/n | this can be read as a standalone or as a continuation of Sweetness, it's just fun either way :)

..................

Joel lost a bet. He had taken Ellie out to practice her shooting, lining up old cans as targets. She was getting a little too cocky about her aim, so he had upped the ante, moving the still-standing cans a few more yards away, stacking them in a pyramid. 

“If you’re so good, kid, I’d like to see you hit just that top can there.” He pointed out to the can on top of the stack. Ellie scoffed.

“Easy. You don’t think I can do it, old man?” He just shot her a look out of the corner of his eye, crossing his arms over his chest. Ellie was grinning.

“Do you bet I can’t do it?” She had caught him that day in a half-decent mood, so for once, he was game to play along.

“What’s your wager, kid?” She thought for a moment, before her eyes lit up wildly and she fixed him with a grin. Joel was suddenly a lot less interested in playing along.

“If I hit that can, you gotta sign up to chaperone the dance they’re throwing next week.” Joel actually groaned at that. When he had heard from Maria about their plan to host a makeshift prom for all the high-school-aged kids in the town, Joel had thought to himself that there might not be anything he missed less than the concept of a bunch of hormonal teenagers nervously fucking around in a humid gymnasium for a whole night. He had chaperoned one dance before, Sarah’s first and only homecoming, and his heart seized at the memory of how he almost blew a gasket watching Matthew Brown getting a little too handsy with his daughter. Needless to say, when they had asked at the next town meeting for adults to volunteer to chaperone, Joel had not offered his services up.

“Ellie, there’s gotta be something else. I’m not going anywhere near that dance.”

“Well if you’re so sure I’m gonna miss, what’s it matter anyways?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“And if you miss, what do I get?” 

“If I miss, I’ll stop bugging you about your very obvious crush on our neighbor.” Ellie hadn’t let up about the young woman next door, not since Joel’s fake birthday when she had helped Ellie bake that cake for him. What the girl didn’t know was that the pair had shared a kiss that night, but since then, Joel had been hopeless. He’d greet her whenever he saw her around, and they’d exchange a few nice words, but everytime he talked to her his brain went fuzzy with the memory of that night, and he’d yet to “make a move” as Ellie had been goading him to do ever since.

“Alright, kid. Let’s see what you got I guess.” They shook on it. Joel wasn’t really worried about it. Hell, he didn’t even think he could make that shot, and if it meant getting Ellie off his back about their pretty neighbor, he was game.

He had sorely underestimated the kid, which was why he found himself in the old Jackson rec center gymnasium on a Saturday night, watching a bunch of puberty-ridden children of the apocalypse dance with each other to old cassette tapes from the eighties. This certainly hadn’t been on his end-of-the-world bingo sheet. 

He leaned back against the cement wall, his eyes scanning the crowd for Ellie until he found her awkwardly dancing with Dina. At least he didn’t have to worry about Matthew Brown tonight. It was mostly other women chaperoning, and they had all given him weird looks when he came to volunteer. He had thought to himself that next time, he’d move the cans a lot further away.

But then he saw her on the other side of the gym, his lovely neighbor in an equally lovely light blue dress. The dress itself wasn’t anything special, a short-sleeved thing that fell at her shins, but on her, Joel reckoned it was still the prettiest thing he’d seen in at least the last twenty years. Her eyes met his from across the gym and she smiled brightly, already walking over towards him as Joel’s brain began to blare the oh shit alarm. She sidled up next to him, bumping her shoulder into his.

“Joel Miller, can’t say I was expecting to see you here. You lose a bet or something?” His eyes went wide as he looked at her. She just laughed.

“Sorry, I had to. Ellie told me.” He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. 

“That kid is gonna be the death of me.” She shrugged, offering him a grin.

“She’s certainly a spitfire, that one. You know, she always asks me if I’ve talked to you lately, always telling me that you’d like to see me.” Joel felt absolutely mortified, his eyes sweeping anywhere but towards her to hide his embarrassment. He caught Ellie’s gaze out of the crowd, and the girl looked so smug he’d like to dissolve into nothing on the spot. That damn kid. He shook his head, turning his attention back to his neighbor and trying to pull himself together. He cleared his throat.

“You, um, you look real nice.” Her smile started to ease the panicky feeling in his chest. She lightly swayed the skirt of her dress.

“Traded some of the tomatoes I’ve been growing this summer for it. Certainly not the same as what I wore to my own prom, but I guess it works for a chaperone.” He offered her a slight smile, rubbing the back of his neck and watching her smooth her hands down the skirt of her dress.

“Do you remember much of your own prom?” She laughed.

“Oh yeah. I wore this awful shiny purple dress and had matching butterfly clips in my hair. My date’s cufflink actually got stuck in one when he tried to pull a move in the back of the limo we rented, nearly scalped me he yanked so hard.” Joel couldn’t help the laugh that came out at that.

“Sounds memorable. I take it your date didn’t get too far in, uh, making his move?” She just let out a low whistle, shaking her head and swaying into his side again.

“What about you? Do you remember your prom?” He sighed, altogether liking the feeling of her shoulder continuing to brush into his too much.

“Hmm, I think mine was a little before your time. To be honest I don’t think we even made it to the dance, just ended up, uh, parking.” He blushed furiously as he got the words out, instantly regretting it. She just hummed.

“Wow, didn’t take you to be that kinda guy, Miller. I’m scandalized.” He could see by the smile threatening to creep onto her face that she was kidding. 

“Did you at least wear a suit?” He scoffed.

“Of course. Gotta wear a suit to prom. I wasn’t that much of a heathen.” She quirked her brow at him.

“What color?”

“Blue.” “Navy?” 

“Uh, not quite.”

“Like a royal blue then?” Joel just sighed, his shoes suddenly very interesting to him.

“No. You’re not telling me you wore a baby blue suit to prom are you?” He huffed.

“It was the 80s, alright? Everyone was wearing them, thought it was cool.” Her laugh was big and bubbling, eyes crinkling up as she looked at him in disbelief. She finally caught herself, resting her hand on his bicep and giving it a squeeze.

“I’m sorry, Joel. I just– never in a million years would I have pictured you in a baby blue suit and now I’m probably gonna be imagining it until the day I die.” He shook his head, not able to fight the smile breaking out at her delight in teasing him. He willed her to keep her hand on his arm, and she did, curling her fingers lightly and letting out a sigh.

“Laugh all you want, but my date thought I looked good that night.” She hummed, tilting her head up at him.

“I’ll buy that. But you look pretty good tonight too.” He choked on an inhale. He knew her flirting was entirely gratuitous, all he had on was a button down and jeans, the same thing he wore everyday. She leaned into his side.

“Whaddaya say, Miller. Will you be my prom date?” He let out a breathy laugh, feeling the blush creeping up his neck again. Maybe it was the sound of “the Cure” fizzing in the background, or the dizzy feeling he was getting watching the swish of the hem of her dress around her bare legs, but Joel finally decided to go for it. He tilted his head down to catch her gaze, a wry smile cracking across his face.

“I’m flattered, darlin. Thought you’d never ask.” The grin she gave him was her brightest yet, and Joel felt like he was melting on the spot.

They spent a while like that, leaning into each other against the back wall and snickering about nothing, lobbing flirtations back and forth. One of the other chaperones stopped by and slipped her a flask that they started passing between them, warmth quickly settling into both their features. Joel hadn’t felt this at ease in a long time, with her arm slung around his shoulders like they were the only two people in the room. She sighed resting her cheek on his arm as he glanced down at her.

“You know, even after he yanked my hair, my date still tried to make another move.” Joel scoffed but she just nodded.

“Mmhmm, he dragged me into the men’s bathroom, tried to get me to give him a handjob, pfft. I smacked him in the face and left right then and there, had to call my mom to come get me.” She laughed, but Joel wasn’t finding anything funny about it. Even though it had been at least two decades ago, and whoever this punk was had probably long been turned into a walking mushroom, Joel still briefly felt a twinge in his chest that he’d like to knock the guy’s lights out. He felt ridiculous, instead drawing his attention back to her and tentatively letting his hand wrap around her waist.

“That’s a really shitty prom memory.” And then, his tongue loosened by whatever they had been swigging from that flask, he said something way too bold.

“You wanna make a better one?” Her fingers stilled where they had been lightly playing with his shirt collar. She was just as shocked as him at his words, but she quickly caught herself, melting back into a smile.

“Well, depends who I’m making it with.” Joel was already slipping his hand into hers and turning heel to tug her along behind him out of the gym and into the hallway. Her breathy laugh of his name made his heart kick inside his chest. He was startled however, once they got out into the empty hall as she pulled him back towards her, tripping over his feet until they crashed together in a kiss. His hands quickly found purchase on her waist as she tugged him down by the hair at the nape of his neck. He couldn’t help the low groan that thrummed through his throat when she licked into his mouth. She pulled back with a wet click of spit, taking a big gasp of air. Joel’s knees felt weak at the sight of her, lips swollen and parted, chest heaving in her pretty blue dress. 

They were interrupted however, by the sound of chatter spilling out of the gym and into the hall. Joel’s eyes landed on another door, pulling her behind him and into what must have once been a supply closet. Luckily, when he flipped the lightswitch it worked, and they were back on each other in an instant, a tangle of tongues that was admittedly taking him right back to his highschool years. He walked her back until she was pressed up against the door, their hips slotting together, seeking more however they could get it. Her hands were grazing up and down his chest, sliding along the waist of his jeans in a way that was making him feel dizzy. His palms started to wander as well, from her waist down to the swell of her thighs, making her gasp when he squeezed the softness there before dipping around to her ass and he thought to himself that she was perfect in his hands. 

He was snapped out of the swimming reverie that was kissing her when he felt her fingers starting to work at his belt buckle. He was quick to take both her wrists in his hands, pinning them back against the door. She huffed at him and he could only breathily laugh at her frustrated expression

“Nuh-uh, darlin. This one’s gonna be all you, alright?” She smiled, her head lolled to one shoulder.

“We gonna go parking after this, prom date?” Joel grinned, already kneeling down in front of her.

“Something like that.” While he may have felt like he was back in highschool, he still had his very-much-not-teenaged knees and back to deal with and he was feeling it as he got down on the floor in front of her. He figured the pain would be worth it.

His palms gently curled around her ankles, skimming up along her calves and the backs of her thighs as he rucked up her dress along with him. Her breath hitched when his hands squeezed at her hips, not taking her eyes away from his as he thumbed at the band of her underwear.

“Is this ok?” She nodded, but it wasn’t enough for him. He gave her hips a harsh squeeze that made her gasp.

“Need you to tell me, darlin, please.” She drew one of her hands to card through his hair, tugging lightly at the scalp to get him to tilt his head up towards her. Her eyes were blown wide, and she squirmed in his grip. Joel felt like his head was going to explode just looking at her.

“It’s good, Joel. I want it, want you, please.” It was all he needed to hear, laying an open-mouthed kiss to the top of one of her thighs before sliding her underwear down her legs and helping her step out of them on wobbly feet. He drew the hem of her dress back up and she seemed to get the hint, bunching it up in one fist to keep it out of the way for him. He let his mouth wander up the plush inside of her thigh, breath grazing over her cunt in a way that made her shiver in his grasp. When he dipped away, however, trailing down her other leg, she breathed out a long whine. At that, he let his teeth graze her skin, nipping just a bit unkindly at the softness.

“Patience, prom queen, I’m getting there.” She scoffed.

“Oh, I’m prom queen now?” She went to say something smart, but was cut off with a broken gasp when he finally dragged his tongue through her folds.

“I’d sure give you the crown, darlin.” With that, he dipped back into her heat, drawing his tongue up from her fluttering entrance to her clit and swiping over the bundle of nerves there. He could feel her thighs shaking where his rough palms were splayed, and he drew her one leg by the back of her knee over his shoulder to open her up even more to him. She keened into his mouth, sighing out soft curses mixed with his name as he worked her over. It wasn’t lost on Joel that it had been a long time since he had done anything like this, but judging from the way she was tugging on his hair and canting her hips into him he hadn’t lost his touch.

“Fuck, Joel– want m-more– please– need more.” He rested his cheek on the swell of her thigh, bringing a hand up and slipping two of his fingers into her tight heat. The moan she let out was more of a cry at that, and Joel’s head went swimmy again at the feeling of her clenching around his fingers.

“Want you to come for me, darlin. I know you can. You wanna come for me?” She nodded frantically at his goading words, and Joel dipped his face back between her legs to lick harsh stripes against her clit as his fingers continued to steadily pump her. He came up for air for a moment, watching her face scrunched in pleasure above him, the sight made his cock twitch in his jeans.

“Please, baby, come for me. Just let go, pretty.” It was all it took to send her over the edge, her hips jerking in his grip and her cunt pulsing around his fingers as he fucked her through it. She let out a few warbly gasps of his name, tugging his hair to get him to stop working her over through the sensitivity. He finally pulled away and she hissed as he helped her get her foot back on the ground, slumping back against the door and gazing down at him with a hazy smile, her dress fluttering back down around her legs. Joel stood with a groan, his knees screaming in protest but he was quickly distracted by her pulling him in by his collar for a stomach-churning kiss. She pulled away with a gasp, eyes searching his.

“Joel, wanna feel you please. Want you to fuck me.” He groaned at that, dipping his forehead to rest on her shoulder and shaking his head lightly. She stilled in his grasp, and when he looked up at her again, a worried look had settled over her face. He couldn’t help the disbelieving laugh that rumbled in his chest, that this woman standing before him actually wanted him that much. The furrow between her brow deepened, but he was quick to lay a kiss there, stroking the arc of her cheek with his thumb.

“I want you too– believe me. But I’ll be damned if the first time I have you is in a fucking supply closet.” She let out a wild laugh at that, her eyes crinkling up as she looked at him and a warmth melted through Joel’s chest at the sound. 

“You know, I thought you were kidding about the whole parking thing.” Joel grunted, stealing another kiss from her before guiding her out of the closet.

“Fuck parking, I’m gonna take you home, darlin, if that’s alright with you?” They were already walking out of the gym but she still squeezed his hand and shot him a wicked grin.

“Sounds good, prom date, lead the way.” 

When one of the chaperones checked the door that had been left ajar, they were only slightly horrified to find a pair of panties strewn on the supply closet floor.

[julesthequirky]

The Choice: Chapter Four

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: You find three of your favourite characters in your home. It shouldn’t be possible, but there they are. In the flesh. How the hell did they get there? And surely there’s a way to get them back? But as you get close to each one, the thought of sending them back proves difficult to comprehend.

Characters/Pairings: Fem!Reader, Dean, Beau and Soldier Boy/ Ben (and Eric the black cat.)

Warnings: Language, mentions of divorce, mentions of manipulation, typical Soldier Boy behaviour.

A/N: If you've noticed continuity errors regarding the divorce timeline, that is entirely my fault. I write these chapters on the fly, with the bare minimum on how the chapter will end, and the scope of the story. Excuses aside, I am making amends as I go. If you see any continuity errors, please let me know. Sometimes I just forget.

W/C: 1,726

Feeling lighter, thanks to Beau, you headed down after him. Checking your phone, you almost baulked at the time. It was half eleven at night. Where were they all going to sleep?

Two spare guest bedrooms were left free. One had been your ex-husband’s gaming room, and the other you’d wanted to turn into a nursery, but your ex had shot that idea down not long into the marriage. You’d talked about having kids, and he’d agreed. You’d show him cribs and strollers, and he’d smile and comment pleasantly. He fed into your dreams only to destroy them. You’d kept the gifts from family and friends, hiding them in boxes, unable to part with them no matter his insistence.

He had decided to sleep in that room during the separation. Out of fear of him finding the items, you hid them in your room, only to return them once he had left.

Now you had two guest rooms, both with double beds. You were sure none of them would share, and why would they? They were grown men, for God’s sake. That left the couch, which would not fit any of them on. You could barely fit on it. It was more of a loveseat and not a comfortable sleep. You knew from experience. It taxed the back if slept on for too long. This left you with the final option—your bed. And you hadn’t had a man in your bed since your ex a year and a half ago.

You scratched your chin lightly and walked with purpose towards the kitchen. You stopped in your tracks when you saw Ben. He sat at your table, a half-empty bottle of rosé clamped in his fist, and the rest was quickly following down his gullet. You knew for a fact it had been full the last time you’d checked your fridge.

After finishing the wine in mere seconds, he clunked the bottle down and belched loudly, then pronounced—

“You’ve got God awful taste in wine. A nun couldn’t get pissed offa that. Don’t suppose you’ve anything stronger?”

You blinked in astonishment.

“Uh, no. Only rosé.”

His lip curled, and he huffed but stayed seated. What could you do? You didn’t have the time to go to the store. He could wait.

“I’ll pick something up tomorrow.” You said pulling open a drawer.

He replied with a grunt as you were taking out paper straws. All equal in size, you cut one in half, then tucked them into your sweater pocket when you were finished. Behind you, a chair scraped back, and when you turned, Ben was rising to his feet, shield in arm.

“C’mon, I need to figure out where you’re all sleeping.”

“Oh,” His voice perked up. “Bet you’ve never slept with three blokes at the same time, eh?”

His eyes twinkled, and a smile slipped out. God, he was an asshole, but that smile…that smile made your stomach flutter.

“Lemme guess—one for each hole, right?” You said deadpan.

“You guessed it, sugar.”

You shook your head and patted his arm, striding past him to the living room. Dean was still inspecting the box, lips moving silently as he attempted to read the inscription. Working this whole thing out without his hunter contacts would take much longer. Beau had his fingers deep in Eric’s fur, who was purring loudly on the cowboy’s lap.

Ben sauntered in, smirk on his lips. He propped his shield down and perched against the couch’s arm, crossing his arms against his broad chest. Out of the three, he was the one that intimidated you the most.

You wiped your hands along your lounge bottoms. This needed sorting. It couldn’t wait any longer. You turned slightly, pulling out the straws, making sure the tops were of equal length, before presenting them to the boys.

“Pick one. This is gonna determine your sleeping arrangements.”

Dean looked up from the box, and Beau’s brows raised in wonderment. But they both reached forward, picking a straw. Each one was long, which left—

“So, what’s the short straw? The couch?” Ben inquired as he plucked the remaining straw from your hand.

“No.”

It was damn typical of him to get the shortest. It meant bunking with you. In your bed.

“The short straw is my bed. With me.”

“Ohoh.” Ben rubbed his hands together in glee. There was that twinkle in his eye again.

Oh, brother. You took the opportunity before something else came hurling out of his mouth.

“Lemme show Beau and Dean to their rooms, and tomorrow we’ll head into town and pick up some essentials.”

“Skin mags and lotion,” Flew out of Ben’s mouth. He nudged Dean beside him. “Gotta clean those pipes out, amirite?”

You sighed and scrubbed a hand down your face. Damn that man. Dean chuckled lightly but otherwise didn’t engage.

Before Ben could say anything more, you spoke up. “Why don’t I show you to your rooms.”

All three stood up. All right then. You picked up the box sets from the coffee table, quirking your eyebrows at Dean with a smile as you held the heavy set to your chest. You turned off the light and made your way upstairs. You showed Dean and Beau to their rooms, told them where the bathroom was and if they had any problems, told them which room was yours.

Then you retired to your room with Ben following.

“Betcha never slept with a Supe before, eh?” There was that teasing tone again.

He closed the door behind him and instantly started stripping. You looked away, heat rising in your neck and cheeks.

“Whatsa matter, sweetcheeks? Never seen a specimen as fine as myself before?” He chuckled lightly.

The box sets were getting heavy in your arms, so you dropped them onto the bed. Sighing, you knelt down and pulled out a suitcase from under the bed. In one of the pockets was a TSA-approved padlock.

Ben huffed a small laugh. “You think that piddly ass of a lock is gonna keep any of us out? I’m sure if we wanted, we could get past it. Real fuckin’ easy.”

You looked up. He only had his Supersuit pants on, top stuffed in his hands. He was in peak physical form. Perfect abs and pecs you wanted to run your hands over. Hard and toned, with thick biceps that could crush heads.

Damn.

You swallowed thickly.

He smirked.

“You wanna put your eyes back inside your head unless you’re lookin’ to ride the stallion?”

You closed your mouth and resumed your task—zipping and locking the suitcase.

“It’s a matter of principle. And respect. I wouldn’t delve into your belongings, so you won’t do it with mine.”

Ben snorted. “Believe what you wanna believe.”

“Well, I’m asking you not to.”

You pushed the suitcase back under the bed.

“Why you hiding them away anyway? Afraid we’ll watch our own shows?”

You rose to your feet. Now he had his Supe pants off and stood in his boxers.

“You know what they say. Curiosity killed the cat.”

He raised his eyebrows as you snatched your pyjamas off the bed and headed for the ensuite. No way were you comfortable with changing in front of him.

“I don’t bite. Not unless you want me to.”

He laughed as you closed the door on him. Sitting on the toilet, you rested your head in your hands. Oh, why did it have to be him? He was so toxic, so destructive, but dammit, he was so fucking hot. You’d thought about him in the worst ways, and they’d always give you the hardest orgasms.

But this wasn’t you and your imagination. He was really in there, almost naked, teasing and testing you. The sight of his body conjured all kinds of things and would be used when appropriate.

You changed, did your business and brushed your teeth before heading out. Ben was sitting in bed on your side. He had his hands behind his head, wearing a smirk.

“That’s my side…but I guess it doesn’t matter.”

You dropped your clothes in the laundry basket and slipped into bed beside him. Now, how were you going to do this? Form a pillow blockade? No. He’d most likely laugh at that, and you didn’t have the pillows for it.

You shuffled your pillow down a little bit and laid down, making sure the back of your head only just touched the mattress and pulled your hair up in a pony. You turned to see Ben giving you a strange look.

“What the fuck? You special or something?”

You frowned. “No. I’m just…particular.” You had the duvet up to your chin, lying dead straight.

“You look like Dracula in his fucking coffin.”

“We all have quirks.”

He quirked his eyebrows.

“That’s saying something.”

He pushed himself from sitting to lying down, causing you to sway as he did. He leant on one arm, looking your way.

“You look like you haven’t had a shit in a week. You nervous?”

“Little bit, yeah. You’re a bit of a wild card, and it’s been a while since a man has been in the same bed as me.”

“Like how long?”

“A year and a half.”

“Wow. You must really be gagging for it, huh?”

You huffed a small laugh.

“Contrary to popular opinion, no, actually.”

“Well, despite what you may think of me, I’m not gonna jump on you. Though if I knew I’d be picking the short straw, I’d have asked you to go to the store sooner. Dry rubbin’ fuckin’ hurts.”

Huh?

Ohhh.

You pulled a face and stared up at the ceiling. Ben laughed at your reaction and turned out the light, finally putting his head on the pillow.

You laid there, staring at the ceiling and minutes later, you heard his snores. They were loud, like a bulldozer. You stuck your head under your pillow desperately trying to sleep, but, God, were they so fucking loud. In the end, you gave up. You slipped out of bed and headed for the linen closet. You grabbed extra blankets before going down to the living room. You made yourself comfortable on the sofa. Eric meowed quietly, jumped up, and you kissed his soft head. He curled up, and you closed your eyes, waiting for sleep to take over.

Tags

@deans-spinster-witch, @curlycarley, @angelbabyyy99, @sassy-pelican

[rillils]

how do explain stucky from the moment they met to where they are now (together in each others arms) to my friend who knows nothing about marvel

ohh this is a tough one, honey! i think i've got two options for you:

the short answer:

stucky is a compendium of all the best tropes out there, and i'm sure i'm gonna miss a few:

soulmates? check! star-crossed lovers? check! battle husbands? super check! mutual pining? check! 'and they were roommates'? check! best friends to lovers? check check check! long-lost lover comes back from the dead? fuck yeah, check! temporary amnesia? check! dude in distress trope? check! 'they will always find each other and choose each other in every lifetime'? also check! identity porn? extra check! saved by the power of love? you guessed it: check! slow burn or childhood sweethearts? you decide!!! did they share their first kiss when steve was 16, as per a popular fanon theory? did they only confess their feelings during the war? did they only get together much later, when bucky was healing in wakanda? you can pick literally ANY point in their timeline, and it will still make sense! they're all equally valid! you can even have multiple different headcanons at once, i mean who's gonna stop you??? all you have to do is join in the fun! 💕

the long AF answer, aka:

STEVE & BUCKY'S LOVE STORY, UNABRIDGED SOMEWHAT ABRIDGED, part 1/3

all right, let's set the scene:

imagine two young kids, let's call them steve and bucky. they meet, they immediately take to each other, they become instant besties! and as they grow up together, facing many hardships, their bond deepens. not only are they best friends; they are also each other's family. they take care of each other, and they both know they can always rely on one another in times of need.

when steve's mom (and only remaining relative) passes away, bucky reminds him that he's not as alone in this world as he thinks he is: bucky will always be by his side. bucky will always love him unconditionally, will always be there for him, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, and he wants steve to know that.

in fact, he asks steve to move in with him, thus offering steve both a literal and a metaphorical home.

and steve says yes!

SO. they are each other's home, they're living together, they're getting by all right. but then war breaks out, and eventually it reaches their little home as well: bucky is drafted, and steve, due to his many health issues, and despite his best intentions, can't follow the boy he loves onto the battlefield.

it's a very difficult time for them both - so much so that they can't even bring themselves to talk about it.

they have no choice but to say goodbye for now, knowing that they might never see each other again. but here's something you might not know yet about steve: he's the most reckless, most stubborn fucker america's ever seen. he's not gonna let this stop him!!! instead, he goes and gets a very sweet, kindly scientist to fucking experiment on him, because screw it, he's going to fight in this war if it's the last thing he does. and that's how he goes from Smol Steeb to Lorge Premium Steeb.

of course, things don't go exactly as he predicted, and steve is made to be the star of a war propaganda-fuelled musical kinda thingie, which he resents (but he looks fucking precious in his costume)

BUT! he does get closer to the actual battlefield. which is where he discovers that bucky has been captured by the enemy (!!!!!!!) and is most likely dead by now. but steve isn't willing to give up so easily! he'll believe bucky's dead when he sees it with his own eyes. so, he embarks on this suicide solo mission in the attempt to get bucky back, even if it means wandering on his own. into enemy territory. where he would be shot. on. sight. with no protection for his dumb ass except for a bunch of theater props!!! but such is the power of love, y'all.

against all odds, steve finds bucky very much still alive! and as soon as bucky recognizes him, even as confused as he is, he pulls out this beautiful, ecstatic, angelic-ass smile, like he's just seen god or he got high on some real good edibles or maybe both idk, like my man here was having a serious Religious Experience™ you guys

and i just wanna say, they could have totally kissed here and it would have made plenty of sense. but that's true of like 90% of their scenes in this franchise, so *shrugs*

ANYWAY steve takes bucky in his arms (well technically yes he does) and brings him to safety, and on their way there, bucky proves once more just how hard he meant that "with you til the end of the line" from before

afterwards, steve is finally given the chance to fight, just like he wanted.

bucky, on the other hand, could very well leave the war behind and go home; but when he learns that steve is staying, he chooses to stay too, and fight by his side. and he tells steve so in this very intimate, softspoken, delightfully suggestive conversation, which can be summed up like this:

and so they walk right back into the heart of the fight, only this time together, as they were always meant to be!

but. during an especially tricky mission, they're surprised by the enemy, and as a result, bucky falls to his death into a deep ravine.

steve is devastated. overwhelmed with guilt, grief and rage, he vows to bring down the people responsible for his loss, even if it costs him his own life.

and um, it kind of does? cost him his own life?

victorious after his last vis-a-vis with The Antagonist™, steve still chooses to sacrifice himself to prevent the catastrophe set into motion by the aforementioned Antagonist™. he's flying a jet over the frosty expanse of the atlantic, and you know, from the outside, you could easily argue that he could try to save himself. if he really wanted to. but with bucky dead, and the people responsible for all this pain, either dead or captured, it seems like all the will to fight is gone from steve; and so he plunges the jet straight into the ocean, and himself with it.

is this the end of their story?, you might ask.

the answer is: of course not!!!! the best is yet to come, babes!!!

EDIT: here is part 2

[livwritesstuff]

tw: references to blood

When Steve and Eddie’s children are old enough to start elementary school and they begin to meet their classmates’ parents, Steve finds himself quickly approaching a new revelation:

Men…kind of suck.

Steve knows that’s a blanket statement, and a bold one at that given how it’s directed towards a camp both he and his husband are a part of, but some of the stories the moms of his daughters’ classmates tell in the school pick-up line are…something else.

One of them once said she didn't trust her husband to be alone with their children for more than an hour. One mom referred to her husband’s time with the kids as babysitting. Another said she couldn’t get her own husband to take on basic household chores.

Truthfully, it takes everything in Steve to not point out how messed up it all is. The foundation of his and Eddie’s entire life together – their marriage, their family, everything – is the partnership they’ve built over the years. At no point during their seventeen years together and their near-decade navigating parenthood has Steve ever felt like he and Ed were anything other than equals in how they tackled all the facets of the small corner of the world they were responsible for.

However.

There is still the (very infrequent) occasion in which Steve catches himself wondering if someone might have swapped out his husband for a fourth kid.

For example:

It’s a Saturday afternoon and it’s raining, so the whole family is stuck inside. In his desperate search for something fun to do, Eddie is trying to invent a new form of bowling, and hacking off the tops off of milk cartons with an old box cutter in his endeavor.

Steve had warned him that this was a bad idea.

“The blade on that thing is ancient, my love,” he’d said, but Eddie had just waved him off, and, of course, less than two minutes after Steve walked away to tackle the pile of dishes in the sink, he hears a pained hiss and the clatter of something hard and metal hitting the floor. Then comes the shrieks of three panicked little girls.

“Papa!” Robbie yells, “Daddy cut himself and there’s blood everywhere!”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters, taking his time dropping the plastic Disney princess cup he’d been holding back into the sink, wiping his hands dry, and heading back into the family room. Eddie is still sitting on the couch, the box cutter at his feet, surrounded by their daughters as he holds his wrist in his other hand so Steve can see a gash on his finger bleeding more than he would have guessed, “Alright everybody outta the way.”

The first thing Steve does is swipe the box cutter off the ground and stuff it in his pocket. There’s droplets of blood on the floor, he notices, and Robbie helpfully says, “Papa, the blood squirted!”

He glances at Moe, the most squeamish out of their three daughters by a mile, to see that she’s white as a sheet and getting greener by the second.

“Enough, Robbie. Moe – walk away, please.”

He tugs Eddie off the couch and pulls him towards the bathroom.

“Girls, don’t touch the blood on the floor, okay?”

“How come?” Robbie asks.

“Because it can have germs in it…and we’ve got white carpets.”

Once they're in the bathroom, Eddie sits on the counter and holds out his hand so Steve can wrap a wad of gauze around the cut and gently press some weight onto it.

“You okay?” he asks him.

“All good. You gonna say I told you so?”

“Nah. Feel like this is sufficient.”

Eddie rolls his eyes.

There’s the scuffling sound in the hallway of the girls convening outside the bathroom door. Steve can vaguely hear Robbie saying, “...and if the blood doesn’t stop, he’ll pass out and then the ambulance will come and he’ll go to the E.R. and –”

Steve opens the door a crack.

“Amelia Robin,” he warns, “Beat it. Nobody’s going to the E.R…unless any of you want an extra flu shot. I can make that happen.”

The girls all shriek again and run in the opposite direction.

Eddie is snickering as Steve shuts the bathroom door again and rifles through a cluttered drawer.

“Pick your poison,” he says, holding up three boxes of branded Band-Aids (Mickey Mouse, Star Wars, and Pokemon).

“Give me the mouse,” Eddie replies, sounding resigned.

Steve obliges, wrapping a Mickey Mouse band-aid around his finger. He plants a soft kiss on the spot where the cut is (because it can’t hurt), and then, because it’s the first time they’ve been alone together all day, he plants another on his lips.

"All better," he says when he pulls away.

“What would I ever do without you?” Eddie grins.

“You’d’ve died in the Upside Down twenty five years ago," Steve replies drily.