#also i really like these photos heh

[veritphoto]

Mikhail Kolyada — Nothing Else Matters EX at Rostelecom Cup 2018

[drunk-poets-society]

I don’t usually post myself on here but the dress I wore at the farewell party was too pretty not to show off

[iceunhie]

voicelines about you: as their lover !

featuring: imbibitor lunae, jing yuan, gepard. (+ jingliu and kafka)

notes: headcanons! some might be ooc HELP. i couldn't resist writing for hsr man… also jingliu and kafka sneak bc mmm i love morally questionable women 🤩. gn!reader. reader is not trailblazer. some fluff, some angst (?) kinda. reblogs are very much appreciated!

Imbibitor Lunae (Danheng IL)

About [Name]: They're one of the few people who's never condemned me for Danfeng's sins, nor ever tried to get me to own up to them. Their presence is very comforting to me. My lover? *coughs* Y-yes, they are.

About [Name]: Selfies Aside from March, [Name] always seems to ask me to take photos with their camera. Hm? No, I don't really mind. If it makes them feel happy, then that's enough reason for me to agree.

About [Name]: Photo Albums [Name] made an Express photo album with March yesterday. Yeah, pictures of our adventures and memories, according to them. It's in the Data Bank, so just ask me if you want to take a look at it.

Gepard Landau

About [Name]: [Name] is the most amazing individual I've met. Their determination and their will to pursue their goals to the fullest… I'm proud to call them my lover. Oh, ah… Was that too forward?

About [Name]: Lending a Hand Oftentimes, Serval asks [Name] to help her carry some things for her workshop. Although the times I get to personally help out are rare due to my duties, I still make it a point to support them by asking the Silvermane Guards to keep an eye out for them and help carry my sister's things for them if it's too heavy. Of course. They're always my top priority.

About Serval: Nagging Every time Serval stops by my post, it usually means [Name]'s run into some difficulties, which I try to help them out in. While her telling me about my lover's state is greatly appreciated, she always nags and teases me being a fool for them and… *sigh* No, it's alright, really. I'm thankful that my sister cares about [Name] and goes out of her way to talk to them for me. Still, I do hope her nagging would decrease next time.

Jing Yuan

About [Name]: Hm? [Name]? Yes, they're indeed my lover. Hehe, now that you've brought them up, I should go look for them. I'm afraid I've grown so used to the feeling of laying my head on their lap that no other pillow can suffice. Ah, what a predicament…

About [Name]: Spending Time Together While I do enjoy dozing off, [Name] makes a point to let me rest at a more appropriate place, instead of at the Seat of The Divine Foresight, buried under a mountain of paperwork. Oftentimes, I do as they say, but when I'm not and just craving their presence… Heh, now that's another matter entirely.

(BONUS! - Yanqing's Voiceline) About [Name]: Oh, [Name]? They always give me some extra allowance for buying swords, buying me sweets and food I like… Of course I won't say no to that! Sometimes, them being with me when I'm being scolded by the General for my expenses helps a lot. Probably because they're the only one the General can't say no to.

Jingliu

About [Name]: ….Do you really think you have the right to know about them? This is a warning. Try to ask again and perhaps you'll be faced with the end of my blade as my answer.

About [Name]: Soothed The whispers of the marastruck, succumbing to the Abundance… They are the only one able to calm the storm of my thoughts. For that, I am grateful for their patience and their kindness.

(BONUS 2! - Jing Yuan's Voiceline) About Name: While Master's current state is one of irreparable damage, at the very least… She has someone to hold onto while she grapples with the curse of mara. Even if I don't quite believe she's the Jingliu I knew from before, I know that her feelings for [Name] are sincere. I just hope she doesn't end up hurting them in the process.

Kafka

About [Name]: Aha, now thats a question I didn't expect to hear from you. My lover? Yes, [Name] is that to me. I very much enjoy their love and affection, you know. Even if it isn't on the script, I'd still mention them. Quite romantic of me, no?

About [Name]: Trophy They always, always chide me about me ruining my velvet coats when we finish up a script. What's wrong with a little blood? I keep most of them as trophies. There's one I'm especially fond of, too. They think it's rather embarassing that I keep the coat from the time they got injured on the job. Although the stains have long since turnt black, there's still a faint scent of iron in it. Hm? What do I mean by that? Heh, let's just say I don't take any harm coming to [Name] lightly. While they call it a reminder of their lack of caution, I'd rather call it a little show of my affection~

About [Name]: Destiny's Course Elio refused to tell me about what my future with them would be, saying that the path in that choice is quite difficult to discern, and I think it's for the best. I suppose if [Name] decided to leave the Stellaron Hunters, hm, would locking them up till they can't leave me anymore suffice….? Haha, just kidding. I wouldn't let them leave in the first place.

© 𝐌𝐇𝐈𝐈𝐄𝐄𝐄 : do not repost, copy, or plagiarize my work.

[crheativity]

Hello! Mind if I send in a request? How about some headcanons for the reader making cute little plushies for the overblot squad?

SUMMARY: You decide to make plushies for the overblot squad. How do they react?

WARNINGS: None that I am aware of!

COMMENTS: ANON I want you to know that this prompt randomly smacked me over the head at like 10 pm a couple nights ago and I have not been able to get it out since even though I haven’t been able to write until now. I hope you enjoy it!!

Part two - Prefect making the plushies clothes and accessories - can be found here. Part three - their reactions when the plushies are stolen - can be found here.

Riddle absolutely loves it, please don’t mistake his silence for displeasure. He thinks it is skilfully made and quite adorable, really! He’s just… a little concerned. Does making a plush toy of the Queen herself count as sacrilege…? He’s racking his brains for any rule or law that would prohibit this adorable little toy’s existence, yet none come to mind. Does that mean he gets to keep it…? He really hopes so.

After a few days of diligent research into the matter, he determines that keeping such a cute thing is not against the law, and is overjoyed to find that he gets to keep it. After some deliberation, he decides to leave it on his desk - out of view from Cater, who would almost certainly want to take some “cammable pics” for Magicam. This way, the toy can sit on his desk and remind him of his studies… and also of you. Almost every time he sits down, he finds his eyes wandering to it and can’t help but smile.

Heh, this is kinda cute. He doesn’t mind the plushy at first - it’s cute, but he finds the expression on your face as you give it to him much cuter. Of course he’ll keep it - it’s soft and squishy enough to be a pillow, so he’s eager to try it. Especially if it means skipping class.

As he attempts to fall asleep next to said plushy, however, he realises something - the plushy smells like you. He’s a beastman, with a heightened sense of smell. Even if the plushy doesn’t smell at all, it still smells of you. As a result of this realisation, the plushy now lives on his bed. He begins to find it frustrating to sleep without it, although he’d never be caught dead sleeping in the grounds with it. You’ll just have to replace it then instead.

(Ruggie has so many blackmail photos of Leona sleeping with the toy prepared just in case)

Prefect, this is magnificent! Imagine the money you could make off of these! Hm? What do you mean they aren’t for sale-? It’s just for him…? Oh. Give him a moment, his brain just crashed. He doesn’t quite know how to respond. He loves it, and he loves you even more, but that doesn’t mean his brain is capable of forming a response, especially when you give him a big smile. Give the poor guy a minute.

He leaves it on his bed. This man definitely cuddles it while he sleeps. He gets easily distressed when it isn’t there. After a rough day at work or school, he’ll talk quietly to the plush until he feels better. If worse comes to worst, he’ll hug the toy and cry as he needs to. He loves it so much. It’s almost a new friend to him - something he finds great comfort in.

(The Tweels are no longer allowed in his room. When they inevitably come in anyway, he swears them to secrecy.)

Is that the Sorcerer of the Sands… as a plushy? For him? Thank you, Prefect. Jamil doesn’t have a whole lot of plushies - he never particularly saw the point. But he’s absolutely charmed by this one — and by you. And the fact that it’s the Sorcerer of the Sands? You definitely knew him well. He’s smiling and shaking his head as he takes the plushy. You’re so cute, it’s so endearing.

At first, Jamil isn’t quite sure what to do with it. He can’t quite sleep if it’s on his bed - it reminds him of you too strongly - so he settles with leaving it on his desk. Occasionally, in his rare free time, he’ll sit at his desk and play with it, like a grown adult finding a lost but treasured toy again. It always reminds him of you. When life calls him back, he’ll set the plushy aside for now and get to work. It will be waiting for him.

Just like you, he hopes.

Prefect! He didn’t know you could sew. It looks amazing! It’s for him? You’re very sweet, he’s very in love. He loves the plush toy so much, no matter if it has any imperfections. It was made by you, of someone he looks up to, for him. He hates to sound like Rook, but to him, that makes it the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He’s so proud of you. Vil is taking that plush EVERYWHERE. It’s always in his bag no matter where he’s going. Anytime someone questions it, he shuts them down immediately. No one will dare slander something that his beloved made for him. In fact, he uses every opportunity to sneak the plush into photos for Magicam. Whether he’s holding it, it’s nearby or in the background, it’s always there. People start looking for it in all of his pictures.

If you’re okay with the plush being online, that is.

If you’d rather it stay private, he’d kiss your forehead or hand and tell you he understands. The plush toy then stays in his room, on his vanity table. Looking at it makes him feel like a teenage schoolgirl. He supposes it’s alright to indulge in such silliness occasionally, hm?

Wow, you made him a marketable plushy? Of one of the Great Seven? He wasn’t expecting you to have such a normie hobby. Oh, but that’s not a bad thing. He’s extremely grateful, but extremely awkward - does this mean he has to get you something now? What kinda thing would you like? Ah, wait, was that not the appropriate thing to say? Ortho’s giving him the “shut up and be polite” look.

Please don’t be offended if it seems like he doesn’t like it when he receives it. He actually really, really does. He decides to make it his new “gaming buddy”, making him a little custom headset and fake controller and sitting it next to him while he games. He’s stunned to silence when the lil guy’s presence improves his gacha rolls by, like, a LOT. He was already taking pretty good care of it, but now he’s being WAY more careful with it.

Occasionally, Ortho will catch him talking to it. Idia genuinely loves the plushy - and you - a lot. Even if Idia doesn’t quite know how to show it, Ortho does - by recording Idia’s conversations with the toy and showing them to you. Idia is mortified.

Oh? My child of man made me this… adorable plushy? My, how generous of you. He’s absolutely in love. If you thought he was attached to his tamagotchi, just wait and see. Malleus is NEVER letting the plushy leave his presence. Lilia had to take it away to clean it once and it stormed for a week. He loves it so much - and you so much more.

He absolutely treats the plushy as a human, and asks the others to do the same. Occasionally, he (or rather, Lilia using his phone to assist him) will send you a photo of him and the plushy doing something together, such as having a tea party or a picnic. Almost always with the caption, “Dear Prefect, would you care to join us? Kind regards, Malleus.”

♥Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!♥

[shywritersblog]

Here are 100 random quotes from Lucifer!

Sourced from the OM! Wiki, chats, devilgram, screenshots I found, etc. I made this list to help with studying to write the characters in character. (Not really proofread, sorry if there are mistakes. Also, there may be spoilers. If so, they’re minor spoilers)

✧༺⚜️༻✧

​​“Do you want my attention? Why don't we talk for a little then? I have enough energy for that. As your presence is so very soothing to me.“

​​“Heh, not afraid to get sassy with me anymore, are you?”

​​“Let's celebrate until you cannot stand anymore.“

​​“No need to rush. I won't be able to help you if you fall down in the middle of the street. Rather, I would probably enjoy the sight.”

​​“...Well? How do you like Demonus-flavored kisses?“

​​“I believe it's long been established that if anyone's going to be eating them, it will be me.“

​​“If you want me to keep you from running that mouth of yours, you need only ask.“

​​“Are you poking fun at me right now? I see you like to play with fire. Well, there's a punishment for getting cheeky with me like that. Come here, MC”

​​“I am exceedingly concerned…”

​​“Now Listen, and listen well. I will not be your possession. I won’t belong to you. You will belong to me.”

​​“You seem repentant, so I shall forgive you.”

​​“Are you still tired from last night? After all, I didn’t let you get much sleep.”

​​“I will watch over you. Until the day comes where we must part. And I promise... to love you until the end of your days and beyond.”

​​“You... Release me! Don't you dare try to put me to sleep like I'm not ten million years older than you!”

​​“All of you, out of the way...! I'm going to tear that human limb from limb…!”

​​"Are you trying to please me?"

​​"Do you need a goodnight kiss?"

​​"You are a strange human being."

​​"You want me to praise you for that? Very well… Good iob."

​​"Fine, I'll forgive you just this once."

​​"Do you need something?"

​​“It's as if you're saying that you need me in your life, and that's a wonderful feeling. Is it conceited of me to say that? Well, I am the Avatar of Pride, after all."

​​“Stab it with a fork or something. Anything sharp should do the trick.“

​​"I can't say I mind spending my time with you while Mammon's shrieks echo in the background either. Heh! And Diavolo's laughter is even louder than that."

​​“Well, there are worse demons it could have happened to... Probably.”

​​“Asmo, you stay right there. I'll go get my whip.“

​​“Hush now. Daddy's here to give you a hug.“

​​“NONONONONONO! I'm saying I DON'T want them to see that picture. So, if they ask you for it, I'd like you to tell them that no such photo exists. OK?”

​​“That won't be necessary. I went ahead and blew it up. The entire room.“

​​"If you want to get the better of me, that toy of yours isn't going to cut it. Perhaps try lethal poison from some horrific insect, aged a thousand years for maximum potency."

​​“I know, I know... But why don't we save the killing until after you've eaten your breakfast, hm?“

​​“Mmm, nothing's sweeter than listening to their screams of agony. Heheheh...”

​​“Bring him down to the living room. Use whatever means necessary…though I do want him alive.“

​​”I would never have imagined I would be kissed on the cheek by you. I don't dislike it when you take the initiative. But why on the cheek? You don't need to hesitate with me. Next time, do it on the lips. Understand?”

​​“Hell coffee becomes bitter when you prepare it for someone that you're fond of. It's a special property of the coffee beans. Naturally, I drank every last drop of your feelings.”

​​“Only those that haven't been involved in that dolt's childish antics are the truly happy ones.”

​​“When I get my hands on him, I'll have to be thorough with my discipline.”

​​“Tomorrow I will be handing Diavolo a report detailing how all of the exchange students are faring. I'll be sure to stress how excited you are to continue your education here at our prestigious academy.”

​​“How's the Celestial Realm? Unlike the Devildom, you don't have to worry about anyone grabbing you and eating you for lunch there, do you?”

​​“You've got Solomon with you as well, so you should relax and enjoy your time there.“

​​“If only my brothers were as obedient as you are. It is not every day that you get the chance to have me indebted to you. You can expect a one-hundred times return on the investment of your time, that I promise. In return, I expect that you won't let me down.”

​​“How naive. If you don't want me to have wasted my time by informing you, be sat in your seat at the table within the next sixty seconds. It will be just you and me. Let us enjoy the rare breakfast together before my brothers ruin the atmosphere.”

​​“Don't get cocky, MC.”

​​“One spoke at length about the clothing on the Diavolo sticker. It waxed lyrical about how exquisite the design choices were.”

​​“However, I discovered a slew of insults written in invisible ink on the page.“

​​“How could you tell? You really know me well, MC! Hehehe. I was drinking Demonus with Diavolo earlier. And you know, he kept saying all these nice things about you... Let me tell you, I'm also really happy you're down here with us.”

​​“…Who even came up with the idea that whoever empties their bottle first, wins...? Oh, right. I did... My bad. Ah, my head is spinning. Good night MC. Love you.”

​​“Ugh, you thickheaded fool of a demon! What's your skull made of? Granite?”

​​“That's a curse meant to make you stub your toe on the leg of a table… But if you actually do stub your toe, it hurts quite a bit.”

​​“MC. It has come to my attention that Mammon and Asmo took you out for a drive recently. Well, how was it? Enjoyable? …I'm glad to hear it. We all need breaks from the daily grind from time to time. l'd like you to join me for a drive next time. I'll give you a taste of euphoric freedom that those two could never dream of. Prepare for the time of your life.”

​​“If you'd like, we could take a shower together.”

​​“After all, I haven't managed to seduce you yet. I'm going to need more time.”

​​“The three highest-ranked demons in the realm, frolicking about in a frivolous pajama party? How absurd.”

​​“I didn't hear a word you just said. I know nothing about it, and I'm going to keep it that way.”

​​“I see. Then I should be allowed to take a similar photo of you, no? Come stay over in my room again tonight.”

​​“Don't be stupid. I will not allow myself to be clad in demon garb. I'm going to strip off every last piece of it this very instant and fling it as far away from me as I can.”

​​“You're a demon. I'm surprised someone like you is able to feed me lines like that with a straight face. You've got some nerve.”

​​ “Heheheh. Well, he is my brother, after all, so I thought I'd go easy on him. So, should I make this quick, or go slowly, bit by bit? Your choice.”

​​ “So, tell me. what's with the Little D.? The one looking at me with that moronic expression...”

​​“You think you stand a chance against me?! You think you could defeat Lucifer, Avatar of Pride?“

​​ “Well, aren't you persistent. I suppose you won't be happy until you've pummeled the door senseless?”

​​“...Just what were you hoping to accomplish by knocking me down like this, hm? Because doing something like that to me, right now… is making it much harder for me to control myself...!”

​​“Given that you were the one who pounced first, you can't complain when the tables are turned, can you? …I'm so thirsty, I can hardly think straight. I trust you understand what that means.”

​​ “To show my thanks, I suppose I'm not against giving you some special treatment. You'll have to come closer. I'll give you my lap until you're satisfied. ...You'll keep me company until then, won't you?”

​​"You deserve a thank you."

​​ "Sorry, this isn't exactly my cup of tea. I was hoping you'd know me better."

​​"It appears to me you know what pleases me."

​​"Are you really trying to tickle me? Heheheh, you'll have to do much better than that."

​​"Pff...if you think that tickles, you're wrong."

​​"Well, if you insist on touching me, then be my guest.”

​​"Well, hello. How are things?"

​​"You've got some nerve keeping me waiting. Well now, what are you going to do about it?"

​​"I'm back. Hm? ...Did you miss me?"

​​"*sigh* I've had a long day. But seeing you has a way of making me feel better."

​​"Sorry, I had some business to take care of. Well, well, you certainly seem happy to see me."

​​"Done? Let's continue this in my room."

​​"Good night... We'll meet again in our dreams."

​​ "I feel like we both have a nice day ahead of us."

​​ "I enjoyed our time together. Perhaps we should do this again."

​​“You do know what I'm capable of... don't you?"

​​ "Happy Easter. Will you accept it, my little bunny?"

​​"Once you're officially a sorcerer, I'd like you to become powerful enough to shut up Solomon for me."

“Very well. Here I go. Lucifer Kick!”

“Why should I be subjected to the indignation of a pat on the head from you?”

​​“After all, it's a bit like tossing a helpless lamb into the middle of a pack of hungry wolves, isn't it? But it's also important to understand just who it is you're eating, wouldn't you say?“

​​ “It means that I see you as prey, too. Just like the others. It goes without saying that I'm far stronger than you. If I were to pin you down right here and now, you wouldn't be able to do anything about it, now would you? How about we give it a try...?“

​​“You will soon enough.”

​​ “When a vampire feeds, it's not like his human prey feels only pain. Quite the opposite, actually. They're overcome with a feeling of unimaginable ecstasy. The truth is that you want this as well, don't you? You want to feel my arms around you, to give yourself up to me and offer up your blood... You're special. I won't drink you dry...no. I'm going to kiss you again and again, all over your body. Indulging in you just a bit each and every night. And I do mean every night. No other vampire will ever know the taste of your blood…”

​​“Do you have any idea how hard I had to struggle not to do this earlier...? It was all I could do to resist throwing my arms around you right in front of everyone at the party.”

​​ “MC… I missed you. I can tell just from the way you feel against me. I can sense what you're feeling.I'm sorry, MC. ...Sorry it took me so long to get to you. You should really stay with me tonight. We need to make up for all the time lost.“

​​ “You're drunk, you idiot. Oh well, I'll go along with you just for today. Bottoms up.”

​​“Me? Intoxicated? Preposterous. I'm my usual old self.”

​​“You are also fond of me, no?“

​​ “Then come over here. Are you holding back? Come closer. Prepare yourself. If I win, I get to do with you as I please.”

​​“You know there is no turning back after the first pillow is thrown, right?”

“As a demon, I've never cared when humans bred…”

​​“Stop unnecessarily stressing me out. You're shaving years off my life here.”

​​ “I don't mind. If I am not allowed to nag, then I can simply beat these rules into you.”

​​“Is this how you all amuse yourselves? By sending photos of your exposed body parts?”

​​ “Good grief. I need eyes everywhere to keep track of everyone.”

Extras! (It's hard to pick just 100 y'know?)

1. ​​“Leading unhealthy lifestyles, frittering away your time and money… The extent to which you all squander your lives away is quite intolerable to watch.”

2.​​ “Put two or more of you together, and you start getting ideas in your head. Bad ideas.”

3. “The next time one of you puts so much as a toe out of line… I'lI march you all up your beloved Mt. Imminent Death, and ensure that you NEVER return.”

4. “So as an extra bonus, I'll tickle you...”

5. “How nice that you're not letting our large underground gambling problem spoil your fun...”

✧༺⚜️༻✧

𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

𝒮𝒽𝓎 𝒲𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓇 ༝༚༝༚

[demonbanger]

18+ | 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐍𝐇𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐁 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 💌

𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔 minors ! kindly do not interact please 𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔

𐂴 pairings: Female-Bodied Reader X Bakugo, Aizawa, Iida, Tokoyami, Deku, Mirio, All Might, Shoto, Kirishima, Tamaki

𐂴 contains: sundress szn, aged-up students, use of quirks, (semi)public unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, daddy + mommy kink, exhibitionism, degrading w punk ass Bakugo, lotsa pet names, use of puppy with Izuku, choking, orgasm control, Aizawa’s is heavy on mating press + kink, Iida’s overstimulation, pussy spanking, tentacles w tamaki <3, feral men alert 🚨

𐂴 10k~ words total | 10 drabbles | bonus: lazy illustrations

𐂴 crispy ass low quality ass photos smh

𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔

💥 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 ~ “OH, IT’S ON, PRINCESS.”

He’ll smile at his girl doing such a dirty, sexy thing in public, and you know what’s coming for you at home. In true Bakugo fashion, he’ll tease you right back, except do it better than you to prove that he’s the best. Karma’s a bitch, but Bakugo is the biggest bitchboy in town.

You try as hard as possible to keep the straightest face you could muster. Katsuki is looking at the cafe menu, sipping his coffee.

“So what do you want?” he grumbles, so he could order for the both of you. It’s go time. Your hand is already under the table, and finds your big thick target immediately, squeezing it firmly through his black pinstripe dress pants. Enemy spotted. His eyes lock on you, and the look in them lets you know that you just signed up for hours of poundtown and crying when you guys get home from your date. He can be so mean, too, stealing your orgasms from you until he decides it’s okay for you to cum. So really you’re signing up to be at his mercy…or lack thereof.

He snorts a little, the corners of his lips turning upwards ever so slightly.

“Really? Heh, that’s a good choice. I was going to go for the club sandwich. And you better not eat all my fries, you dirty little delinquent.” His cock starts to harden in your hand, and your fingers find his cockhead, tracing its prominent outline. You could swear you feel his pulsing veins beneath your fingertips. You keep your hand there, squeezing, then trailing to his balls…then pulling away when he twitches.

As if nothing happened, you reply,“Mm, no worries, I’ll also get the croissant and omelette, I promise to leave some of your fries for you,” you suck at keeping a straight face, as fiery eyes blink incredulously, furiously asking you why the fuck you stopped.

This time you feel his rough hand firmly grabbing your thigh, and yanking it over his big leg. His calloused palm trails right up the skirt of your yellow gingham sundress. What is he doing?

“’Katsu,” you whimper quietly to his sickly smug face. “We can’t do this here.” You both know you don’t believe the words you’re spewing.

Fluffy blonde hair swooshes left and right as he looks around dramatically to prove a point. “Says the fuck who?” his canines flash, a predator knowing there was nowhere for his prey to run. His sharp eyes, sharp teeth, sharp choker, black snakebites, the growl evident in his voice…this menacing boy has you backed into a corner. Heck, his big hand has your thigh trapped right now. He was right. What were you saying? Bakugo Katsuki never followed anyone’s rules, and never will.

You squeak when two hot, large digits rubbed you over your thin little panties. He leans in real close to you, resting a muscled forearm on top of your soft thigh. His hot breath fans against your neck and he whispers huskily in your ear, moaning a little in just the way that make your juices stir, your clit throb,

“Fuck….Y’always signing up for shit you can’t handle, Princess. Trying to put yourself in danger, like Daddy does. But you can’t pull it off, babe, wanna know why? You’re dealing with Dynamight, and don’t you forget it. Just ya wait until we get home. Trying to be a nasty little bitch in heat, you think that’s funny?” You thank the heavens that the table isn’t see through and not too many people are dining where they could see you both being absolutely filthy. You gulp. He pushes your panties aside, rubbing the ungodly amounts of slick you’ve already built up in circles around your clit.

“Little kitty cat gets so wet, huh? Is it cuz you know I could fuck you right on top of this table? I’m the number two hero, I don’t give a fuck. Does that scare you? Me showing everyone what happens to bad girls who can’t be patient and grab their boyfriend’s meat under the fucking table?” He’s babbling, and you can see his cock straining against his pants. If he was dressed in his grey sweatpants, guaranteed you’d see precum leaking through.

The thigh that wasn’t being held on top of his by his other hand, tries to shakily close around his hand but he doesn’t let up. You feel a familiar heat start to pool in your stomach and you silently plead with him to not make you cum in public, in broad daylight. You could tell he has no intentions of stopping. A big, thick finger dips in and changes your mind as it always does, making your brain get consumed with want for him, need to get filled up no matter what. It thrusts into you as his thumb keeps rubbing your clit expertly. You begin to grind stupidly into his hand, chasing your own high. His eyes, they look so hungry for you…

Just as you feel yourself getting close, he pulls away and puts your leg back down to normal as your pussy throbs and you clench around nothing. What the fuck? You glare at him, he sucks his fingers, and he licks the mug like a SLUT before sipping his coffee again.

“What’s’a matter, sweetheart?” His gruff voice feigns ignorance, and before you could reply, the server comes. x

𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔

❤️‍🩹 𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐒𝐇Ō𝐓𝐀 ~ “So You Have Chosen… Death.”

The UA High School teacher is so disciplined, such a gentleman who knows how to conduct himself maturely. Which is a total contrast to how he is behind closed doors in the bedroom. Oh, he’ll still be a gentleman, but don’t think he’ll hold back on you. He’ll teach you a thing or two about teasing him like a little brat.

You both sit in the private back part of a fancy restaurant for your anniversary dinner. Ever the classy, baked ziti at home, father of your two cats, charcuterie board mf, has taken you to a dark, sophisticated winery by the sea. His alumn who can talk to animals is caring for the fur children back at home. Now you’re sitting in what looks like a speakeasy as you overhear jazz from the main restaurant, the lights dim, and his ebony black hair falls beautifully over his cashmere sweater. An intense set of dark eyes have never looked so intense, and you can barely take it.

You hold the wine 45° and stir it a little, smelling its scent profile before taking a little sip. Berries. Spice. Old earth. Chestnut barrel. And a hint of flora.

“This one’s delicious,” you smile, and you like it because it tastes like love, it tastes how the look in his eyes feel.

“You’re delicious,” his eyes scan over your body in the sleek, velvety emerald dress you surprised him in, and you feel the heat from his smoky deep voice filling your ears and going down your esophagus with the warm wine, and making you flush. You decide to return the favor and be a little cheeky. Perhaps it’s the wine bringing out the boldness in you, or he’s trying to be a siren with his dark eyes and silken tone but you are sinking. And your foot has left its high heel and is floating.

A thin brow quirks as your pedicured foot rubs his firm thigh, then goes up, up, to the apex of his legs and fondles him through his slacks. You’re already hard. He smirks. —How could I not be?—

Teachers. They make for the best students. He’s studying you, the fall and rise of your chest, and can pick up that you’re turned on. And just like that, you both can’t wait for the dinner to be over so you could…

But you both wait. Lots of tension makes for the best of releases. You know from past experience. You continue to have eye sex, like how you did when you both would pine for each other. Years of having a crush on your tailor client, of him talking with you, of you starting to think of what his stubble must feel like on your tenderest spots, of if he likes getting his hair pulled, of will there ever be a ring on his finger one of these days? Him coming to the atelier to pick up his clothing, and looking at you in the same way he’s looking at you now, but you not being able to put a finger on it.

You would wake up from a restless sleep in your studio and wonder, why am I having dreams of my client? You’d look forward to his messages telling you how lovely of a job you’d do to fitting his clothing to accent his body…his body that you wanted all over yours. It felt like a whirlwind…a long, unblinking staring match as he lingered in picking up his clothing from you turned into him asking you out, to him bringing flowers to your work, and lots of eye contact as you realized his stubble tickles your inner thighs rough— in a delicious way, that pulling his hair makes him rumble against you and eat you even more ravenously, and that now you keep looking at your hand wondering what it would look like with a big rock on your finger.

Flash forward to after dinner, and you’re walking hand in hand, the taste of wine and butterscotch gelato in your mouths, and his hand guides you by your lower back into the lodge. Now you’re on the bed, and your feet are bound to the posts, and his hand pins your wrists above your head as he’s ramming into you, hips slapping your clit so perfectly and grinding into you. You already came twice on his face, and you feel another one coming soon.

“Sh-Shō,” you slur, the second his lips aren’t swallowing yours. Your tear-brimmed eyes, glazed with pleasure, meet his deep eyes that still look as hungry as ever, with that extra mysteriously serious look from earlier. It makes you shiver.

“Darling,” he purrs, “i hope you’re not saying you want me to slow down, when you showed me just how much you wanted me back there.” How is he not out of breath, when he’s pistoning straight into your sweet spot over and over? He muffles your whimpers and steals your breath away with more sloppy kisses, and your bordeaux-stained lips are wet with your drool combined with his saliva. You’re seeing stars, and screaming his name as you’re bound into this mating press. You feel so full on his fat cock as every ridge and vein drags so deliciously into every surface of your pussy; his hipbones smack into your ass so lewdly. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. He grabs your jaw firmly, thumb swiping your lower lip. “Ah, ah, ah, want my little wifey to look at me, or you won’t get my kids,” he’s babbling, but your ears perk up at the words wifey and kids and it drives your wine/cock-drunk mind wild as he drills into you.

“Yes, yes!” you scream, “I’m your wifey, Shōta, please say I’m yours, mmm, I belong t’you!!” You don’t break eye contact this time, pleading him to know you really really mean you belong to him. His thrusts get sloppier, and his baritone moans sound so hot as you feel like if he goes any harder, you’ll get fucked right through the bed.

“You’re mine, Y/N,” his hands clench around your wrists and throat, and he kisses all over your face, “All, fucking, mine—” He goes down to rub your clit feverishly so you could clench around him, and his thrusts are deep, threatening to hit your womb.

“Cum for me, my beautiful woman,” the sight of his black hair framing and sticking to his face as he stares into your soul, does it for you and you see white, which milks his cock of all he has to offer as he’s balls deep inside you.

You both ride out your orgasms for a minute, then come back to earth, panting. “Oh, by the way. Since you agreed you’re my wifey, I hope you know I’m being serious.”

Your heart stops as he finishes untying you and arranges the clothes you both threw to the floor. What?

“I’ve been wanting to make you Mrs Aizawa for quite some time now, and it kind of came out in the heat of the moment, but…” he grabbed the ring from his pants pocket, blushing like a schoolboy, “Miss Y/n, will you marry me?” His voice was soft, and the ring sparkled even in the dim bedroom.

Tears once again filled your eyes. “I was being serious, too, Shō. Of course I’ll marry you.” x

𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔

🚀 𝐈𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐘𝐀 ~ *TRIES TO PRETEND NOTHING IS HAPPENING TO HIM*

Key word: tries. That does not mean he succeeds. Iida will, however, make it your problem when you get back home, and you’ll know he does not take such matters of inappropriateness lightly.

(girl help my drawing’s proportions in this are more fcked than a Picasso painting, n e ways,,)

When you grab his cock in the cute outdoor restaurant in the downtown area, Tenya Iida is glad that 1. it’s night time, 2. you’re both sat in the back corner, and 3. the service was slow.

“Aw, Iida, are you all right?” you coo, and he curses you in his mind. Evil vixen! He will show you not to continue in such wrongdoing! Just…not here…You play footsie with him, feeling up his meaty calves as he shakily finishes taking a sip of his water.

“Yes, my love, I am perfectly all right, everything is just wonderful,” his voice is convincing, but the bright pink glow that shines over his entire face, is not. Not to mention his hand is shaking like a leaf and still clenched around his glass, as if it’s offering some sort of stability.

“You look like you’re going to break your water,” you giggle, and you catch a dangerous glint in his eye for a split second.

“Maybe I’ll break yours, have it spill all over the place,” he mutters.

“C-come again?” No, you heard him right. When he takes you shopping afterwards, best believe he makes sure you’re dripping all over him in the dressing room, his fingers stuffed inside your mouth as the Hero Ingenium slams in and out of you at the speed of light, making you almost cum in every place you two are alone together for the entire night. But your punishment is you don’t actually get to. Because you acted like a little villain. And when you sob into his jacket that you just want to go home now, he rushes you both home with his quirk, and you’re so glad he’s so much faster than driving in a car.

He’ll make you squirt all over his face and cum until you’re apologizing for teasing him in public like that, and he makes you promise to not be such a naughty little girl, because only good girls get stuffed with daddy’s cum. (You’ll break that promise since you love how he brings about his justice). x

𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔

🔮 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 ~ “CAREFUL, LEST YOUR ACTIONS MANIFEST A REVELRY IN THE DARK”

What a dangerous game you play, and you couldn’t keep it at bay until Dark Flicks and Chills, could you? What are the things that go bump in the night? Oh, right. It’ll be his cock, bumping rather harshly into your cervix, because of your foolish lack of self control. But it’s ok. Because he a freak like that too.

It appears your mind dwells in the abyss quite frequently.

Your lovely boyfriend had taken you to the new Museum of Unexplained Wonders, an alluring museum that toured past cryptids, alien evidence in ancient cultures, chilling discoveries, unexplained mysteries, creatures of the deep, cursed items, and ancient secrets. And now here you are, in the spooky wax figure restaurant, eating horror-inspired food. You couldn’t be happier than now, and having such deep conversation with your beloved bird boy and hearing his handsome voice make such great theories is stirring something inside your creature of the deep.

“I really do have to say, I’m so curious about what will happen as they continue to investigate Skinwalker Ridge,” you muse, and Tokoyami’s ruby reds gaze into your eyes passionately as he nods.

“They’re doing such a good job at proving that there are aliens. I wonder if they’d let people with electromagnetic-type quirks into the grounds to help them,” his voice sounds so deep and comforting, you think to yourself, like someone playing the cello. You could listen to it forever.

“I-oh, Y/N, goodness what are you doing?” He whispers, expression indicating that he’s clearly blushing. The culprit: your hand squeezing his dick. Does he accidentally have a semi-hard-on already? Or is he enjoying all of this in the same way you are? Your hand leaves as you nonchalantly eat more of your food, and he swallows thickly, trying to resume eating too.

“My apologies. It seems like it teleported into my hand. Or maybe I’m just possessed by an ancient fertility god,” you winked up at him.

“Oh? Is that so? Are you sure it’s not a multiple possession, because I’ve been feeling the same way, hearing about what your beautiful mind comes up with.” You gasped as you felt something stronger than a cold draft of wind touch a specific place on your legs. Was that..? “Oh and Dark Shadow, feel free.” The two giant hands on your thighs spread you wider apart as Dark Shadow found solace in the shadows under the booth in the dim, colorfully-lit spooky restaurant. Fumikage’s hand trails to your thigh, and you are so glad that you wore a skirt today as it dips under the dark pleated fabric.

“I have to say, I love how much of a dirty thing you are,” the tip of his beak drags over the sensitive spot on your neck, trailing down to lick and nip at your shoulder and collarbone. You didn’t realize his fork is now in his left hand, and he continues eating as you tried to act normally in public. You feel the cool of his rings as it brushes against your skin, and it’s coming closer and closer to……

“No need to have this in the middle here,” he mutters under his breath, as he tears a hole in the fishnet tights above your pussy.

“Y-yeah, about you loving my…twisted nature, I can say the—same,” you try to stay normal as you felt a tongue from under the table push your panties aside and lick a broad stripe right up your throbbing core, making you whine the last word. Dark Shadow’s tongue began to push inside you, and your thighs shuddered around their head.

“My goddess of the violet twilight, you are lust incarnate. No need to conceal such lovely noises,” he smiles, sipping his drink and watching you come unraveled with his fingers pinching and swirling over your engorged clit, and Dark Shadow tongue fucking you under the table.

“I-I love those lyrics, b-but we’re in public! Nnn~!” You try to keep your whimpers quiet, but the last one is forced out when you feel the thick tongue touch your spongey, tender spot. Shadow’s tongue keeps thrusting in and out, hitting that spot with such fervor and Fumikage’s fingers on your bud feel so perfect, that your eyes roll back in pleasure and you buck into him and his quirk, nails digging into his smooth arm that would not budge from between your thighs.

“What happened to your love of being nervous, Y/n?” The way your name rolls off the tip of his tongue combined with all the other stimuli makes you come undone, and you lean your head into Tokoyami’s soft black t-shirt, seeking support in his firm muscles, tears pricking your vision as you look into his eyes the way he likes.

“Fuck,” he grunts at your fucked-out expression as you bite your lip hard enough to almost draw blood, and he cups your jaw in his spare hand, pecking kisses on your forehead (the best he could do with his falconesque beak), running fingers through your hair to comfort you as you ride your orgasm and cream all over Shadow’s tongue and his other hand.

When you return to the third dimension and catch your breath, it’s like you almost forgot you were in the restaurant. “Is my crazy black eyeliner running down my face?” You say meekly, squeezing his much larger hand.

“No, love, your soul windows are still perfectly decorated and in place,” he speaks tenderly, full of love. You pet Dark Shadow’s hair, and they coo and lick their beak clean, savoring your taste.

“Your goth metal reference is getting you head when we get home.”

“Not in the mummy exhibit?” He winks at you.

“Unless you want a curse following us home,” you laugh.

𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔

🧤 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔 ~ “BABE, W-WAIT!!!”

He’s so 🥺shy🫣 but then he’s trying to Texas smash in your pussy, and is so drunk in lust you almost have to say “down, boy” to get him to behave.

If Bakugo were to see you two lovebirds right now, he would scream, possibly cry, shit his pants, possibly throw up from how soft Izuku and you are being. And that’s okay. He’s laying on your lap and you’re feeding eachother strawberries and little bites of cake, and you couldn’t be happier than right now.

The soft breeze is rustling in the trees, and your boyfriend’s pine-colored mess of hair moves just like the leaves above. Butterflies keep flying around, and you tell yourself he and you should make little dandelion flower crowns for each other sometime.

You’re so full of love for life right now, and your lover is so beautiful in the sunlight, and his thrifted sweater vest that matches his hair looks so cute on him with his muscular arms, and you,, you’re ovulating so you wish it wasn’t just your heart that was full. But the problem is, you’re in a park in the city. Eh, no matter.

Midoriya rests on his elbows, shifting off of your lap but leaving little fluttery kisses on your legs and..you don’t think he realizes what he’s doing to you. So you naturally do the most logical thing to do, and grab his dick. “This is mine, by the way,” you giggle, as his bright green eyes widen and flash to yours.

He bites his lip and immediately looks flustered, the poor boy. He’s so bad at hiding his arousal. His cock is already tenting in his corduroy trousers! “I-I know, baby, but why did you have to remind me,” —his voice hushes to a whisper—“in the middle of a public picnic babe???” You grab him by his little strawberry charm necklace that you gave him, and you see his Adam’s apple bob up and down to try and swallow back a whine, to no avail. There’s a blush spread wide across his face, and with his green hair and freckles now he really looks like a strawberry, you just realized, and you can’t help but laugh.

He thinks you’re being mean and trying to humiliate him in public, and he pouts which makes him look all the more adorable. But he’s still so hard. “Because,” you get closer to him, addicted to how his pupils blow up full of so much love, “you’re so adorable and I can’t stop thinking about how much cuter you’d look stuffing me full of your cum, puppy boy.” You watch as his nostrils flare as you try out that name for the first time, and his breathing gets heavier. He is so turned on. You bet his boner is so painful. You grab it again, squeezing, and he whimpers and doesn’t shy away as you do, the two of you not caring if anyone sees. He’s so thick in your hand and his cock is just so massive in general for such a sweet boy that you know it’s just not fair for him since his boner is completely impossible to hide. But he loves you ao much that he doesn’t care, and his love for you is stronger than any embarrassment he could feel right now.

“You’re such a cutie, Mommy-fuck, sorry, I mean M-fuck—Y/N,” Izuku can barely think, since all his blood went down to his cock. Fair enough.

Your eyes narrow as you feel yourself getting wetter. “Mm, excuse me, what was that, sweet boy?”

“Y/N, ‘m so sorry, I-I’m getting so horny right now, and it’s your fault, I mean not in a bad way, you’re doing nothing wrong, but— and I don’t know if this is something you like to be called, which if it’s not, I’m sorry, but when you called me puppy boy I couldn’t help but get so—”

You cut him off with a kiss. He kisses back with a frustrated whimper. “All that talking, and you could be spending your time showing Mommy what that mouth can do,” you tease, but boy oh boy he’s taking that seriously. He looks at you hungrily and determined, like he’s on one of his missions to defeat a villain and it makes you throb with want. “Okay,” he says, completely seriously, but you’re too shocked to try and stop him.

He hovers over you and kisses you deeply, then kisses your face, ears, down your neck, licking and sucking and kissing your shoulders and collarbones, trailing down and kissing over your dress before he gets below your waist. Every kiss sets you on fire, and he’s so strong in pinning you down you can do nothing but just accept it. He looks around to make sure no one is around. Well, you guys got lucky. He lifts up your skirt, and the breeze carries the smell of your pheromones over to his nose and he bites his lip in anticipation.

“You don’t have to—”

“You smell so good, Mommy, wanna put my kids in you,” suddenly he uses his strength and pushes the back of your thighs up, moving your thong to the side, and attacks your pussy, switching between licking and sucking your clit, to dipping his tongue into your soaked center, and groaning at how good you taste. “Mm, ahhh you’re so —mmm- good,” he’s talking with his mouth full, and you’re digging your fingers into his hair and pulling harshly on it, which only eggs him on further. He dips two fingers in without warning and starts pumping them in and out of you, admiring the way they look and how your pussy grips them and makes wet, squelching noises. “‘Zuku, oh my god, holy shit,” you’re sobbing as his fingers alone Full you up so good, it feels too good, you need more…He begins attacking your clit with his mouth again and his eyes are more tearful from pleasure than yours.

“So good, Izu’, you’re doing so well, f-fuck, such a good boy,” at the praise, Izuku hums sweetly, the vibration on your clit making you buck into his face and hump it, making him moan and move his fingers faster so you can do it again. You try to close your thighs, but his other strong arm holds them in place so your pussy keeps facing the sky.

You keep gasping and moaning his name. You feel yourself getting close, so close. “M’s’close, baby, gonna cum all over your face, you’re eating me so good, are you that hungry?” You’re babbling under his mouth, and he loves it, not realizing he’s grinding into the blanketed ground beneath you to help ease his hardness that’s gotten painful.

“So hungry,” he lifts up for a few seconds to dutifully reply to you, fingers pounding and curling into the spot that makes you whimper, “want you to feed me your juices, then fill you up with pups, make you a mommy, so we can bring them on more picnics,”

He goes back down on you and the words make your head spin, and you buck up into him. He sucks your clit and nibbles on your pussy as he keeps hitting your g-spot faster and faster, and you shakily come undone underneath him.

“Babe, please, please let’s go home right now, can you fly us, please?” You ask, pleading because you need his cock and you’re sure he desperately wants to cum in you too. He’s set the already packed up basket aside and is already trying to fold up the blanket. You rush to help him but he smiles all lust-blown, juices still dripping down his face. “Already on it, gorgeous.” You hold all the things, he swoops you up, making sure the bottom of your skirt is tucked under his arm, and he flies over so he could pound into you for a few rough rounds. x

𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔

💫 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐀 ~ “WOW, BABE, YOU’VE GOT MORE OF AN ELEMENT OF SURPRISE THAN ME!”

A normal bystander would think he’s just smiling at his girlfriend, but when you grab his dick in public, you know it’s actually a very dangerous smirk on his face! Consider yourself warned!

A warm breeze fills the air as you sit in the beachside tiki grill, some straw and wood shielding you from the hot sun. Mirio’s got a little tan starting, as well as some summertime freckles, and his glimmering eyes are admiring his girlfriend, you.

You cheekily reach under the table, and he thinks you’re in to play thumb wrestling. Which he lets you win, so you then go to your main mission, and reach for his muscular thigh. He quirks an eyebrow and his head to the side, looking exactly like a golden retriever puppy with his cute little grin. It makes you giggle and gives you butterflies in your stomach. Alas, you cannot reach his cock without leaning forward so much that it’s obvious. So you retreat, taking a sip of your frozen drink.

His hand copies what you did, and lazily rests on your thigh without his arm even needing to stretch a little. He squeezes your soft skin, and his cuteness just makes your ovaries fucking explode. You want this sweetheart to do terrible things to you, and you want it now!!!

“Baby,” he breaks you out of your trance, and he swears your smile is brighter than all the stars put together. “Did you want the little umbrella before I finish my drink? I even put on one of those little cherries you like so much.” You need him now.

“Is that even a question!!! Yay of course you’d think to give me one of the cherries I love you so much,” you grab it from him, and you both eat the little cherries. You don’t catch him gazing lovingly at how cute you look chewing the sugary cherry, and twirling the tiny umbrella between your fingers, and putting it down into your drink.

“You only love me for the little drink decor, nothing else!! It’s always like this, Y/N, I’m more than the little umbrellas….or am I,” he feigned accusatory sadness, and you played along.

“It’s true. That’s the only thing I’m here for. Just using you to build my collection of little umbrellas. I cover my entire house in them.”

He chewed the cinnamon pineapple of his piña colada, smirking mischievously. “You look like the type. You’re the worst. Not even a gold digger, a little trinket digger, what ever shall I do?”

“Yes….yes…ha ha ha yes!!!” you mocked an evil villain whose plans were coming to fruition, “you are hopeless and defeated, without you looking I have taken every last little trinket from your house, none of your friends or family are safe, Lemillion, I will defeat you 200 percent!”

“M-my tiny spoons….my liddol Russian dolls…all of them, you took all of them!“ he clutches his chest.

“It was me. You are reduced to nothing, a man with no little fun objects. For I have stripped you of all of your pride! No fun allowed!!!”

You both are dying of laughter at this point, and you clutch your stomach doubling over because he’s laughing so hard, and your laughter keeps building up. It’s not like what you’re saying is even remotely funny, and no one else would really laugh but you both just love how stupid it all is. This is how dates with him always are. You craft ridiculous, highly specific situations and keep building on top of the ridiculousness dramatically, and your laughter does the same.

“Just imagining all my little car decorations and stuff vanishing suddenly and wondering where they are, then I see you crouched in a corner in front of a pile of all my little things,” he’s trying so hard to stop laughing, and you’re taking sips of your drink to just calm down. He doesn’t realize, of course, that one of your feet has left your little sandals and is about to hijack between his thighs.

He begins to tip his glass upwards to get the rest of the stubborn slush in his drink, and you trail from feeling up his thunder thighs to his bulge. You think he’d be shocked but he just winks and finishes up his drink.

“Is that the next trinket you plan to steal from me?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Yes, but it’s not small enough to be a trinket,” you could swear his dick is twitching at your touch.

“B-but, it still has the personality a small one has!!”

You chuckle. “Mm, I suppose.”

The server comes. “Alright guys, are you feeling a little hungry for some shareable apps? Or just another round?” You keep your foot where it is, and tease him, feeling him get a little harder under you.

“Definitely another round, and I think the Hawaiian roll sliders could be good, right, babe?” You ask him.

He tugs at his shirt, flashing his beautiful abs. “Aw, are mine not good enough for you?” He’s good at acting normal. Damn it. He’s getting rock hard though, and you know his pink flushed cheeks aren’t just sun-kissed.

“Damn, you know what, you’re right,” you look to the server, “just give me a steak knife to cut into him so I can get my own Hawaiian bun sliders.”

The server laughs. “Perfect, one extra sharp white-hot steak knife, anything else?”

“Hmm. Calamari, taquitos, maybe actually those sliders forreal though, and some flatbread. That’s all, right, baby?” Togata asks you, and you nod.

“Great!” The server grins at the adorable couple, “I’ll be back with your drinks!” They give a thumbs-up, and you and Mirio do the same. He looks at you while he does so, and you see it in his eyes. It makes you squirm in your seat. He’s so going to fuck you in the bathroom after this. Better hope you’re good at not screaming as he hits all your good spots roughly and fills you up so nice. x

𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔

🇺🇸 𝐘𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐈 ~ “WE SHALL SETTLE THIS SOON, DARLING”

You’re playing a dangerous game, teasing the hero who is number-one in your heart, the seven-foot tall man who packs the entire US of A in his pants. But danger? You like danger. You can’t say he didn’t warn you.

“Toshi, slow down!!!” You mewl, but the man above you is unforgiving and unrelenting.

“Darling, don’t say I didn’t warn you on three separate occasions about teasing me so much at dinner,” he drawls through clenched teeth, as obscene squelching noises fill the air, and you hiccup under his weight, nails digging into his back.

You don’t see what the big deal is. He took you out to a lovely dinner where a grand piano was playing such an alluring song, and his hot kisses and “I love you”’s to your ear were not helping. You just wanted to remind him that you could take your cock at any time and how perfectly he was made for you. You didn’t expect him to grip your wrist with an iron grip (him holding back) and warn you in his deep, silky voice “try that again, little lady, and see what happens.”

What else could he expect? A little minx like you? You crumbled under the predatory flick in his aquamarine eyes and hummed. “Maybe I do want to see,” you mewl, as you only clench his thick cock harder. His cock that you cannot dream of fully holding completely in your smaller hand. You rub at its growing hardness with your thumb and feel yourself salivating at the sight and feel of how overwhelming his size is. It’s so intimidating, almost too much, impossible to fully fit in one thrust and needing at least 20 minutes of prep to sink his head in alone. “Baby girl,” he growls warningly, “keep going like this and I might actually break you when we get home, you’re making it very hard for your Daddy to contain himself, I don’t want to hurt you.” You bite your bottom lip at his words, and your other hand feels over just how big his hand is, that’s holding your wrist failing to stop you. “Maybe I want it to hurt,” you whisper, eyes big, and he has to keep himself from groaning. “Warning you for the last time, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

He’s making sure of that right now. Your legs hurt from being spread so wide to make room for his broad frame, which completely swallows you whole over the bed, almost crushing you. It hurts your hips as he holds you apart and pounds into your pussy, which slobbers white rings of cream around the wide base of his cock, stretching you impossibly. You pant and see it moving through your belly, and he sees it too and leaves even more love marks on your neck, your whines and his growls creating a beautiful harmony.

You’re screaming utter nonsense, so many versions of what you say now, “oh god, oh my gosh, holy fuck, please please, Toshi, please don’t stop,” and he squeezes your face in his giant hand.

“Thought you were just telling me to slow down, sweetie, do you even know what you’re talking about?”

Clearly not. You’re so dumb on his cock, as he fucks your brains out, and he picks you up and flips you like a rag doll, and manhandles you so your hips are flush with his. He grips your cheeks and spreads you open, admiring how your juices drip down your thighs, then thrusts back in, stretching you all over again, making you moan loudly.

“You’re such a naughty little thing, I bet you wanted me to go hard on you, didn’t you?” An especially sharp thrust rocks you forward, and he uses a hand on your sternum to lift you up and hold you in place. “Look at Daddy when I’m talking and answer, little lady.”

“Mm-Yes-!! Yes! I w-wanted you to go so hard , so hard on me, yes, unghhh!” He’s rubbing your clit and molding you to his size, hitting your cervix over and over, as you see stars and scratch stripes into his meaty forearms. “Such a dirty girl,” he purrs, and his words send you over the edge, and you sob.

“D-T’shi!! G-gonna cum soon!!” His balls slap you rhythmically, and he keeps rubbing your clit with the thick pads of his fingers, nibbling on your neck. You’re still digging your nails into him to keep your wavering sense of balance.

“Do it baby, cum all over Daddy’s dick that you love so much,” and with that, you sob, “Yes, mmmph!!!!” And spasm around his huge cock. He closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing so he doesn’t spill into you at your walls constricting around him. He has to pull at least a few more out of you before he feels satisfied enough to spill inside you for the first of many times tonight. x

𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔

🛡 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎 ~ *QUIET GASP*

Shoto looks so cute on your sushi date, so flustered when you pull your mean trick. You almost feel bad as his breathing is shaky, but don’t think he isn’t enjoying this. He is. And definitely wants you to continue.

“Whoops, dropped my napkin!” You’re already down before he could get it for you, giving him no time to react as the gentleman he is.

You pick up the napkin you dropped on purpose, and hear an audible gasp as you grab his dick , so glad he wore some soft pants today so you could move your hand around it for a few seconds, and cup his balls, squeezing gently.

When you get back up, he looks at you so desperately, so helplessly, and you giggle at his pouting face. “Baby, what’s wrong?” You rub salt in the wound, and he sighs, looking off to the side.

“N-nothing,” he breathes, but you could tell he’s getting hard, trying to put a little bit of wasabi on his nigiri and dip it into the kirashi sauce, but then he drops it in and shakily tries to pick it up and eat it.

You’re starting to feel so bad, poor boy can’t even function; he’s so cute. He doesn’t know what to do.

He huffs. And in polite traditional Japanese fashion, “Uhm, I’ll be right back. Please excuse my rudeness as I need to use the restroom.”

You see his hands dug into his pockets, desperately trying to hide his fat boner, as he walks coolly to the restroom. In his mind, he’s making a beeline. Why would you do that? He wonders, frustrated and chasing some kind of release. He bucks into his fist, wishing it was your mouth, or your pussy, or even just your hand. Were you trying to test his…self control? He’s so dull, he doesn’t realize you’re just trying to get him riled up, and he hears a buzz in his phone. It’s you.

Y/N❤️: Babe

Y/N❤️: Show me how hard you are

So that’s what it was.

You feel a buzz of your phone, within a couple minutes of you sending it,, and are shocked he could be so fast. Which means he’s doing what you’re thinking.

Immediately you turn your brightness down and your eyes widen, seeing slick coating his cock as he jerks it in his hand, and soon after, he spills into it. That’s how horny you made him. Now your thighs are rubbing together, and he’s making his way back to the table, giving you a small smile. x

𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔

🪨 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀 𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 ~ “HAHA, THAT’S CUTE BABY”

Kirishima finds it adorable that you just want to get a feel of his manliness, even in public! After all, he stores so much love for you in his heart AND down there! He grins and can’t wait to stuff you in the car!

You hear some slurps as Eijiro tries (and fails) to slurp some of his ramen without getting some juices dribbling down his chin. “Don’t look at me, Y/N,” he rushes to wipe his face, and you laugh at how cute he is, trying to look proper all of a sudden in front of you.

But the noises he made just remind you of him eating something else, and it’s kind of hot how he can get a bit messy. You chew on some pork, and sip some broth with corn and seaweed, humming at the yummy taste.

“Yer so beautiful, Y/N,” your Eiji smiles at you, and his red hair looks so fluffy, you want to pet it right now.

“No you,” you wink at him, and he blushes ‘cause you make him feel like he’s a boy in high school again with some stupid crush, the type of girl he can’t keep his hands off of, he wants to cherish you for as long as you’d allow him, and keep you warm and safe in his heart forever.

Others might take a look at the guy with his open shirt and big muscles, pretty smile, and think he could be a player, but Eijiro was actually so nervous to go up and talk to you for the first time. He had eyes for you, and it was extremely clear as you leaned forward over your bowl, and caught him blushing, looking down your shirt, then looking away quickly. You decide you want to give him shit for it.

“Eiji, what are you looking at?” You ask so sweetly, a little smile creeps over his face.

“N-nothing, I mean, you. I just can’t help it, you do things to me,” he makes you blush. You do something bold, and reach under the table and trace his long, buff thigh.

“What kind of things, sweetheart?” You know what kind of things.

“I-I, well, we can’t talk about this here, can we?” He’s such a gentleman, but he’s dodging the question.

You grab his bulge firmly, and you hear a strangled moan come out of him, before he clears his throat to hide it.

“I think we can,” you smile, and his sharp teeth flash at you. He uses his quirk to harden it a ton, then not harden it as much under your touch. Such a silly boy.

“O-oh my gosh Eijiro, so fucking, big-!!” You claw at his chest, and he’s helping you bounce up and down in the car. Planting hungry kisses all over your neck, bright red eyes staring at you rabidly, wanting to eat the cream out your pussy after he cums inside it.

“I know, sweetheart, don’t worry, the sting will go away in just a little bit,” he coos in your ear, holding you still and fucking up into you. Your moans mix in the air and you bury your face in his neck, taking in his cinnamon-cherry-leather scent.

“Such a gorgeous thing, and so sneaky grabbing what’s yours while we’re eating. Makes me feel so wanted, babe” he’s got a tight grip on your hips, his rock-hard length spearing you open and making your juices leak all over.

You look into his eyes, and he loves the lust that’s inside them. You kiss him hungrily and your tongues fight for dominance, and you rub circles on your clit making you moan. He wraps an arm around you and keeps fucking up into you, then moves your hand away so he could take over, and you whine into the kiss feeling him smile. He nibbles on your lip and you tug his hair, legs starting to shake from overstimulation.

“Go ahead, baby, cum for me,” he growls, and relishes in the feeling of your soaking wet walls clenching in a vice-like grip around his length.

He slaps your ass. “Do me a favor, and get in the back seat. I’m not even close to done with you yet.” x

𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔

🐙 𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐊𝐈 ~ “BUNNY, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

Your perfect boyfriend is so shy and shocked when you grab his cock, but also excited that his love wants him badly enough to do such a daring, scary thing. So he wishes to repay the favor.

Tamaki always feels so safe to be himself around you, and wants to make sure you always feel the exact same way. You boosted his confidence in so many ways, and he knows now just how much you love him and anything he does to you, spicy-wise, is something you love as long as it’s him. He even enjoys going out in public more, because you’re there! He was so excited to take you out to the place he and FatGum eat at most regularly, and here you are now eating takoyaki with each other in a little tight booth, knees brushing up against each other, sharing longing glances and relaxing conversation.

He looks so sweet as you eat together, that you just want to kiss him! But you can’t yet so instead you boop his nose, and he smiles coyly. “Bunny, why did you do that? Don’t be afraid to do it again, though.” You boop his nose again.

“Because you’re cute, you know that, right?”

He blushes. “Oh, me? Thank you. But not as cute as you are.” His sharp features look so good colored a bright pink that you want to see how he looks like red, right now. The booth is such close quarters that you’re able to pull this off, so you trace over his joggers and locate his cock, cupping it in your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

His expression makes you imagine that he’s got steam coming out of his ears. His pointy elf ears perk up in surprise as he raises his eyebrows and bites his lip. A little smile is still across his lips, because he loves you and trusts you, and you make him so flustered that his heart does little somersaults and he doesn’t know what to do.

“B-bunny! What do you think you’re doing?” He quietly asks and you feel just like the nickname he gave you, a little mischievous bunny rabbit.

“Just reaching for what I’d like to order next off the menu, why?” your eyes are twinkling up at him. He has an idea, a bold idea that you’ll definitely like.

“Oh yeah? You’re still really hungry, aren’t you?” You don’t know what’s possessed him to say something so teasing in public of all places, but you are here for it, and hope he does so more often.

“Yes, my love, ‘m so hungry for you, I could eat you up right here, right now.” Suddenly, you gasp loudly, as you feel something hot and wet, with suction cups trailing up your leg. His violet eyes look at yours knowingly, and you realize what he might be doing.

“ ’Majiki,” you breathe, and his tentacle slides up further and further under your dress. You whimper, and take a sip of tea to distract yourself from making more noise, but the look your boyfriend is giving you is not helping one bit. He looks hungry for you, too. The tentacle snakes over to your pussy, and moves your panties to the side. Is he….?

You’re biting your finger to keep the noise down, but you want to scream at how good he feels, rubbing his suction cups on your clit, then dipping into your wet center.

“Baby, is there something wrong? Don’t tell me you’ll let your food get cold,” his sweet voice is hiding the filth of his actions , and being caught by surprise is only magnifying your arousal.

“Hah~ I’m just fine, babe, just have a sudden, mmmhh—” his tentacle thrusts in nice and deep, looking for your sweet spot, and you buck into him as it gets thicker and stretches you out—“c-craving for more seafood, don’t worry ‘bout me!” You try to eat a bit more, and he decides not to mess *too* much with being inside you, and stays suctioning your clit lewdly, driving you wild. He decides, he loves playing with his food, to play with his dessert. The faces you’re making in the little booth as you try to keep your composure and keep eating are so cute, and his sensitive ears pick up on the little soft mewls you’re attempting to keep hushed and at bay.

He can tell you’re so wet, and feels how hot your fleshy walls are as they suck him in, and he wants to put his cock inside you. But he can’t yet. “Aww, bunny, well I have a special dessert for you, but it’s from another place, if you’re interested. You’ll just have to save lots of room.”

All you can really do is nod, because otherwise the whole restaurant would hear you moaning his name, which might humiliate you both—and he slams the cash down on the table, pulls away from you, and ushers you into the car.

At home, you’ll definitely get your dessert, all because your boyfriend loved how much you showed him you wanted him. x

𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔

a/n well guys, I hope you enjoyed these lil drabbles that I crammed into one post! some of them may have been pretty rushed so I could keep it not wayyy too long but let me know in the reblogs / comments what you think ! thanks for reading and I hope you liked the drawings too. i may take commissions and drawing requests if you ask me 💕

𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔𖥔

ALL ART AND WRITING HERE IS INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY OF ©️DEMONBANGER ON TUMBLR. DO NOT STEAL OR REPOST, ESPECIALLY ON OTHER PLATFORMS SUCH AS TIKTOK AS THIS IS 18+ CONTENT. TY!

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

I got a promt idea. Saffron showing photos of when Jaune was cross dressing as a kid like wearing dresses (Either willing or forced by sisters) to who ever you want. Probably best to have at least 4 people react but I'm not the writer.

Yeah Four is about as many as I'm willing to do upon request

~~~~~

Saphron: And this is my Twelfth birthday! We managed to get that dress over his head without him waking up!

Penny: He is very adorable! I want to hug him very tightly!

Yang: Heh, Ruby wouldn't wear a dress like that unless she would die without it.

Penny: He seems to be more comfortable in feminine clothing nowadays.

Saphron: Yeah, there was an abundance of 'Girly' clothes at the house, and sometimes we couldn't get him 'appropriate' attire. He did get made fun of a few times, but me and the rest of our sisters took care of it.

Ruby: What'd your dad think about it.

Saphron: He didn't ... Necessarily like when we did it, but he also made sure to tell Jaune that he was his son no matter what he wore, Which is why Jaune's as comfortable as he is in other clothing.

Saphron: Honestly Dad was more upset about the footie pajamas than the dresses.

Weiss: *Licking her lips* Do you think we could get him to wear a dress now?

Penny: He did wear a dress to the Beacon Academy Dance. Him and the rest of JNPR quote "Tore up the Dance Floor"

Saphron: Really? Is there any photos?

Ruby: No ...

Yang: *Pulling out her scroll* But there is Video!

Weiss: Oh sweet Mana from heaven~

Penny: ...

Ruby: ...

Yang: ...

Saphron: Please refrain from thirsting over my brother when I'm Right here.

[auteurdelabre]

Palpation - RMTJoel!Miller x f!Reader - 18+

Rating: 18+

Summary: You need a massage and thankfully a new place opened up a few blocks away… There you’re introduced to the deliciously professional RMTJoel!Miller. He makes you feel good… maybe too good?  (AU - NO OUTBREAK)

Words: 6.8k

Tags: RMTJoel!, unprofessionalism in the workplace, power imbalance (kinda?), consent king, massage (external and internal heh heh I'm so dang funny), soft!Joel, public sex, fingering, handjob. 

a/n: Went for a massage at the spa (thanks to a thoughtful xmas gift!) and came up with this idea. I wanna make it REAL clear that this is FANTASY. Meaning RMT’s ain’t there to be sexualized. It’s all for the sensual fun of this story, but in no way should this EVER happen in real life. Alright, onto the smut.  

===========================================

Palpation

"You need to see a massage therapist."

"No I don't," you insist scowling at your roommate Pam as you come hobbling across the room to sit next to her, pizza box in hand.  

"It's been a week of you complaining about a sore back you got... How again?"

"Sneezing," you mumble with a frown. Pam opens the pizza box and you two grab a slice. Nothing to remind you of your age like pulling a muscle sneezing. 

"A massage place just opened up a few blocks away last month. I saw it when I was getting groceries," Pam says pulling up her phone and typing quickly. "It's called ... Mill."

"Sounds pretentious." 

"Looks gorgeous."

"Any reviews?"

"Yeah like sixty," Pam says sounding impressed. "Place has a 4.9 out of 5 on Google."

"Probably paid for them," you murmur, wiping your greasy fingers on your napkin. 

"There are photos," Pam says. "This place looks stunning."

She holds up her phone and you swipe through several images of beautiful pristine rooms with the luscious looking massage tables. It's like through the phone you can smell lavender and hear gentle wind chimes playing. 

"I've never been for a massage before," you say with a nervous glance back at her face. "Laying naked on scratchy sheets while some random person is touching me all over gives me the creeps."

"They're professionals," Pam says rolling her eyes and smirking. "They change sheets between clients and you wear as many clothes as you feel comfortable in."

Hmm. You didn't know that. 

You consider this proposition as you flip through what to watch on Netflix. You have to admit that the idea of a massage sounds appealing after a solid week of being in pain and hunching when you walk. Pamela gloms onto the fact that you're being swayed. 

"Okay I'm booking you in with the person all the reviews recommend" Pam says typing away. 

"Guy or girl?"

"Guy."

"Oh."

"What?"

You wince. "Isn't it weird for a guy to massage a girl?" 

"I get massages from guy massage therapists all the time," Pam says rolling her eyes at you. "It's

only weird if you make it weird." 

///

This was a terrible fucking idea. 

As soon as you walk through doors of "Mill" a week later you feel out of place. Beautifully carved doors and sumptuous looking couches decorate the front room. It smells like heaven in here, warm and fresh. Everything is so fancy.

You are not fancy. 

You are anxious. 

You've shaved every part of your body in a panic that morning, unsure if this is the correct protocol. What if they get grossed out by massaging body hair? What if your skin is too dry? What if your back is disgusting? You've never really looked at it that closely. 

Pam told you they don't care, that they see actually gross shit every day and that your body will be a welcome change of pace. But you don't trust her because Pam also told you that you could pull off red leather pants in college.

She was definitely wrong about that.

A pleasant woman of about fifty sits at the front desk typing away. When you approach she smiles brightly at you.

"Hello welcome to Mill. Do you have an appointment?"

"Yeah, hi, I'm here for the four pm," you say softly. This place is so serene it feels weird to speak louder than a whisper.

"And with which massage therapist?"

"Uh, I'm not sure, my friend booked it." 

"Not a problem," the receptionist says with a bright smile as she passes you over a clipboard with a sheet and pencil attached to the clasp. "Just fill this in."

You look over the intake form, blown away by all the questions asking about everything from allergies to if diabetes runs in the family. You fill this in swiftly; your eyes darting to the clock over the door leading to what you assume are massage rooms. You've got ten minutes. You lick your lips nervously and go back to the form. You turn the page over, circling on the diagram of the human body where your pain is. 

The last part is a yes or no checkbox. 

1. I bruise easily

No.

2. I sleep 8+ hours a night

Fuck I  wish. Nope. 

3. I have back problems

Seems like a stupid question on a massage form. But yes, obviously. 

4. I am satisfied sexually 

Your pencil hovers over that question as your cheek heats up. You know it's asking you this for medical reasons but it still makes you feel embarrassed when you tick off: "No". 

You finish the rest of the check boxes and then return the sheet and clipboard back to the woman. She gives you a smile and indicates behind you. 

"Take a seat and he'll call you in."

You slip back into one of the oversized chairs as a beautiful black woman with heels walks in. She swishes by you with a smile before turning her attention to the receptionist. 

"Hi, I have a four o'clock with Tommy."

"Perfect, I'll let him know." 

The woman takes a seat next to you in one of the chairs typing. She's stunning with long legs and glossy black braids. Her large almond eyes drift over to you. 

"Have you been here before?"

You shake your head. "No, have you?"

"No but my co-workers wouldn't stop talking about it," she says with a laugh. "I figured what the hell, ya know?"

"My roommate booked the appointment for me," you tell her grinning. "The thought of-"

Before you can finish your thoughts a voice reaches out. 

"Maria?"

A handsome man pops out from around the door, glancing to the other woman and you're struck by how muscular he is. How glossy his dark hair is and how his pants fit him just right. 

Thank Christ he's not my massage therapist. I would not be able to have his hands on me. 

"Maria?"

"Hi," the girl says and you can see she has been similarly affected. If she was a cartoon there would have been steam coming out of her ears. 

"Hi, I'm Tommy," the man says with a charming smile as Maria pulls her purse to her shoulder. "Follow me to room 1."

Maria stumbles after Tommy's disappearing figure but not before shooting you a look over her shoulder and mouthing "What the fuck?" 

You hold in a giggle as the door closes. You pull out your phone hurriedly composing a text to Pam. 

[3:58pm] You need a massage with a guy named Tommy here. Definitely your type. 

You scroll back through a few work emails distracted until the door to the hallway opens with a creak. 

A deep voice says your name and your glance up from your phone just in time to see a tall man with the sweetest smile you've ever seen standing in the doorway holding a clipboard. His dark curls are brushed back, threaded with silver. 

Please no. He can’t be for me. He’s even hotter than the other one!

"Hi I'm Joel," he says extending a hand out to you as you stand and approach him. "I'll be your therapist today." 

Shocked, you just stare at how long the fingers are, how broad the palm is that leads up to forearms and biceps just meant to squeeze. The white t-shirt he wears literally strains over his broad shoulders and biceps. And then you see it, the small dimple in his right cheek over a neatly trimmed beard. Your heart actually flutters at the sight of it. 

He's fucking gorgeous. 

And just as that thought registers with you, a dawning horror begins to flood your senses. 

There's no way you're getting a massage from him. He's going to touch your almost naked body? He's going to be so... Close? Rubbing?! Just looking at him is causing a heartbeat to begin between your legs. 

You still haven't reached out to shake his hand and Joel takes it back quickly, looking embarrassed. 

"Follow me to room four."

On shaky legs you stumble after him in much the same way Maria did after Tommy. You watch the way his body moves so languidly, graceful despite his size. You try to ignore the twitch of his tight ass as he moves, willing yourself to focus on the artwork gracing the walls or observing how clean everything is.

Once inside the small space you take a chance to look around. It's simple, pristine white with dark grey floors. The walls hold pictures of nature, a horse walking through the forest. It's very calming to look at.  It also smells divine in here, like a spring meadow. But you're not sure if it's the room or the man in the room with you. 

You stroke the soft blanket overtop the expensive looking massage table, stilling in surprise as you feel its warmth. Joel is seated on a small rolling stool and he grabs a pen from behind his ear. 

"So what brings you in today?" 

"Is this blanket heated?"

"Uh," Joel looks confused at your response. "Yes."

"Jesus," you whistle impressed before you realize he's asked a question "Oh, I, uh, I've been having some back stuff lately."

"Work related injury?" He asks, pencil poised above your intake form on his clipboard. 

"No."

"Did it come on suddenly?"

Do not tell him the truth. 

"I was playing basketball and I wrenched it," you tell him airily as if innate athleticism is just one of your many gifts. 

"Where exactly?" Joel asks coming to a stand and walking over to you. You try not to shake as he approaches. He tucks the pencil behind his ear and the clipboard under his arm. 

"Uh, here," you say turning from him and pointing to your lower back. You face the wall surprised to see a mirror there. You see Joel in the reflection and watch his face turn studious as he stares at your lower back. 

"Is it alright if I touch you for the assessment?" Joel says, eyes scanning down your back. You swallow. 

“Sure.”

Please touch me everywhere. 

Wait. When did that happen? When did the thought of Joel touching you go from terrifying to enticing? 

You feel his large forefinger skate down your spine and dip to the dimple at your lower back. You inhale sharply, thighs pressing together tightly trying to tamp down the pleasured shiver that wants to take you over. 

You see Joel's dark eyes dart to the mirror looking concerned as he meets your gaze in the reflection.  

"You okay? That hurt?"

"No," you reply confused. "Why?"

"You're tremblin'." 

He pulls back obviously concerned he's pressing too hard and you pray he doesn't notice your cheeks heating. 

"No uh, just a little cold." You give a shaky laugh. "Good thing you have a heated blanket."

Joel gives a little half smirk and turns, pulling the pencil from behind his ear once more. 

"Psoas major," he murmurs, making a note on his clipboard. "Pretty common for low back pain. Gonna start in the mid back and work my way down. Then I like to end with you facing up so i can get at those neck muscles. That work for you?"

"Yep." 

"Great, just need you to sign this consent form."

He holds it out to you and you give it a cursory glance before scrawling your signature at the bottom. At this point you're willing to sign your voice away to a sea witch if it means getting Joel's hands on you quicker. 

"Alright now, I'm gonna step out for a few so you can undress and get up on the table under the sheet. I'll knock before I come in. Alright?"

"Okay."

He gives a small smile before moving past you out the door, closing it behind him. He smells amazing. It's not the room smell. You can't place it but its warm and masculine and... 

Oh fuck you're supposed to be getting undressed. 

You hurriedly strip until you're in nothing but your underwear. You place all your things on the chair near the door. After a pause you move your bra underneath the pile. 

You pull yourself up on the massage table maneuvering yourself until you're breast and belly down with your head nestled in the tufted face hole of the table.  

You pull the warmed top sheet up to your neck and are amazed at how relaxed you already are. Maybe Pam was right maybe you have needed a massage all this time. You could drift off right here. 

Tap tap.

"You ready?"

Your heart slams against your ribcage. That beautiful man is going to touch you. Rub you with oil with those big delicious looking hands of his. 

"Uh, yeah ready," you call out in a strangled voice. 

Calm the fuck down. 

You hear the door open and close. All you can see face down is the hardwood floor. The lights dim and your straining ears hear the sound of Joel tapping on his phone. Soft meditation -like music fills the room and you take a deep breath as his voice murmurs next to you. 

"That okay?"

"Yep."

He could play Scottish fucking bagpipes for all you care. You just want him to touch you.

"Your form says you've never had a massage before," Joel says quietly and you see his shoes underneath the table. Basic white Tom's should not turn you on the way that they do right now. 

"No."

"Alright well just so you know, the next part is I'm gonna lower the sheet to your comfort level and then we can start. Yeah?"

"Yep."

The shoes are gone from your vision and you feel him drag down the blanket over your naked back until it rests low on your spine, just at the start of the swell of your ass. You suddenly wish you had cuter underpants on. 

"This alright?"

"Yep."

Your eyes blow wide when he tucks it lightly in around your hips. 

"Let's get started."

At the first touch of his hand on your spine, you twitch, your nervous body over stimulated by the situation alone. Joel's hands are off you completely, his voice concerned. 

"Whoa, you okay?"

"Yeah sorry," you say with a breathless laugh. "Wasn't ready I guess."

Joel chuckles and it's a rich, delicious sound that makes your stomach flip.

 "That's okay, shoulda gave warnin'. Startin now."

His hands alight to your midback pressing lightly. He does this down your spine to warm you up, he tells you. You don't care what he does. You'd happily become a human pretzel if it meant having Joel's hands on you. 

The hands retreat and then there's the sound of lotion being squeezed and Joel rubbing his hands together. Those big, broad hands. You're so thankful he can't see how red your face is. 

Joel begins between your scapula, his wide hands smoothing over your muscles with expert care. At first you're nervous when his hands touch places that have been overlooked for months by previous partners, but soon you allow your eyes to shut and your breathing to even out. 

His hands go to your spine before Fanning out over your shoulder blades. The sensation is so fucking good, so tender. He rubs a knot there and you hiss with pleasure at the feeling of it being worked. 

"Tell me if the pressure is too hard," he breathes. 

"I actually like it hard."

The minute you say it you cringe. Why did that sound sexual? Because Joel is hot ? Because you're horny? Pamela's words float through your consciousness. 

It's only weird if you make it weird.

Just relax. Ignore it. He's not saying anything. You try to pretend you didn't say something asinine and just close your eyes. 

His oiled hands move down your spine, coming to press at your lower back, the problem area. Joel applies pressure gingerly before his thumbs begin to knead into the deep muscles there. 

At first it hurts but you remain silent, needing it to continue. After the initial throbbing ebbs you relax into it, feeling the muscle relent under his talented fingers. The release feels so good that you actually sigh out loud. 

"Ah, there we go," Joel purrs in a voice so husky you feel your panties physically dampen. 

His hands move lower, fingers grazing just under the waistband of your panties as he massages your lower back, taking his time on the problem areas you mentioned.

It feels like heaven. 

Somewhere around the midway mark you feel so relaxed that you actually drift off, carried away by Joel’s touch amongst the scent of sandalwood and the sound of flutes. 

You shift awake when you hear Joel's raspy voice in your ear. You have no idea how much time has passed. 

"Alright, gonna get you to turn over onto your back for me. I'll turn around." 

You do as he says still partly drowsy, your whole body feeling warm and boneless. You roll over, sliding down the table a bit and tugging the blanket up until it covers your breasts. You secure it under your arms. 

Your eyes crack open to see Joel turned away from you. His broad back is smooth under his shirt and from this angle you see his tight ass through his pants. He's like a Greek god in a white cotton t-shirt. 

You hope you don't have ugly lines on your face from the hole but you accept that you probably do. Oh well. Not like Joel was gonna ask you out anyway. You close your eyes again. 

"Okay. Ready."

You hear Joel place himself on the rolling stool. He slides behind you at the top of the massage table and you hold in a shudder as he moves your hair up out of his way, his fingertips grazing your neck. Immediately you feel your nipples tighten and you pray they can't be seen through the sheet. 

His hands are oiled up and then move to your neck once more. His fingers glide along your collarbone before dragging over the muscles there. The sensation is incredible, the overlooked and overworked muscle celebration with the release of tension. 

"Feels so nice," you mutter without thinking.  

"Then I'm doing my job right," Joel says and you hear the smile in it. You can feel the warm huff of his minty breath fall over your cheek.

You realize belatedly that his face must be near yours and you feel your heartbeat quicken. Your thighs press together tightly and you're shocked at how turned on you are. Joel's touch, this room, this comfort has all conspired to get you to the edge of arousal. 

His wide hands squeeze your neck muscles, gently vibrating. Something releases and your head swims warmly. 

You wriggle slightly and Joel shifts his hands to the back of your skull. His thumbs press and begin to circle there, digging pleasantly. 

"Your form says you get headaches."

"Mhmmm. Sometimes."

"Alright, might do some work on your head if that's okay."

"Sure."

"Lotta my patients like when I end with a head massage," he tells you, his voice tinged with pride. “Think you’ll enjoy it.”

You don't know how to tell him that his patients probably just like anything he does because he's the most beautiful man you've seen outside a movie screen. 

When his thumbs get to your temples you should have told him to stop. Because the thudding between your legs is increasing. With every swipe you feel your core tightening. 

Calm down. Calm down. 

His thumbs retreat and you feel a stab of relief go through you. That is until his fingers slide up the back of your neck through your hair... 

And he tugs. 

A simple motion, just a grab of your hair in his fists and a gentle tug to release the tension in your skull. Except it releases the tension.... Everywhere.  

Pleasure overwhelms you, warm and flooding your entire body like sweet golden light. Your hands grip the sheets as your back arches unexpectedly, hips digging back against the table. 

The sound of your shuddered cry hits the air sharply, like cool water thrown over the both of you. 

And then silence. 

//////

You're tense. 

That much was clear when Joel saw you in the waiting room. When he touched your tight back and saw the pinched way your face looked in the mirror. 

He was determined to get you to relax. To give you what he knew you needed: release from pain. He'd read your intake form, saw where the pain was, saw you were getting shitty sleep, the headaches. It makes sense that you were wound up.

And you'd nearly jolted off the table at his first touch of you. He hadn't been expecting that reaction. You were like a skittish horse, wild and needing desperately to be tamed. 

And soon enough you'd calmed under his light touches. And now you seem pretty relaxed as the massage continues, Joel smiles when he thinks he hears you snoring quietly. He works away at the stubborn knots in your back. 

He moves down your arm, hearing you give soft little whimpers in your sleep and noting when he gets to your hand that there's no wedding band there. He doesn't understand why that sticks out to him but it does. He works down your other arm doing the same. 

He lets a hand drift along your spine, watching as you curve up for him like a cat. It's hypnotizing how his little grazes affect you so deeply. His eyes drift to the clock in the corner. Twenty minutes left. 

His mouth goes to your ear. 

"Alright, gonna get you to turn over for me. I'll turn around."

He turns, listening to the rustling sheets as you scoot down the table a bit, pulling the sheets up over you. 

"Then I'm doing my job right," Joel says with a smile. 

Everything is going well; you're going boneless in his hands again. So pliant and willing. Joel finds deep satisfaction in this. Like he's won your body over somehow, told it there's no reason for fear. He thinks it’s because you seemed so unimpressed with him at first, so dismissive. You wouldn’t even shake his hand. But now you seem like you’ve warmed up to him and this pleases him.

He sees the crease between your brows and smoothes over it with his thumb. He smiles when it disappears under his touch. 

"Your form says you get headaches," he says remembering what he read earlier. 

"Mhmmm. Sometimes."

"Alright, might do some work on your head if that's okay."

"Sure."

"Lotta my patients like when I end with a head massage," Joel says, proudly. He's never heard a bad word about his head massages. Hell, some people come in just for that. “Think you’ll enjoy it.”

His thumbs move to your temple and that's when he first notices the shifting of your thighs. He assumes it's an itch and ignores it. Looking back that should have been his first indication. 

When your breathing began to pick up he assumed he was just hitting a good spot. Mistake number two. 

One of Joel's favorite things about massage is that as well as healing it can bring deep relaxation and even pleasure. When he gathers the hair at the back of your neck and tugs he does so in the hopes that it will work on releasing some of that headache tension you were talking about. 

And then Joel hears it. 

The shuddering gasp accompanied by the arch of your spine and twitch of your lower half. He sees your hands curl into the sheet on either side of you. If he'd been working anywhere near your lower back he would have brushed it off as a sore muscle. But as it is he knows what just happened. 

You just came. 

He sees it in the shuddering intake of breath you take now, the flush over your cheeks and what he can see of your chest. And the way your legs relax under the sheet. 

It's not the first time a woman or man has been aroused on his table. He's had his fair share of tented blankets with the men and squirming women biting their bottom lips. The only difference is he's never made one come on his table before. 

And they've never made him hard. 

His cock is lengthening in his pants and he's so thankful that your eyes are closed. He momentarily panics, this has never happened before and the professionalism he strives for is rapidly escaping him. 

He can see your face is screwed up in anxiety and a wave of pity mixed with shame goes through him. He knows what happened with you was completely involuntary.  

And you were doing so well right before, totally limp in his grasp. You were relaxed and he'd given that to you but now you're entire body is turning in on itself, tight. All the good work you both did today leaving. 

Just get over it. Do your job. 

Joel's a professional and he knows how to handle these situations. The best course of action is to pretend like nothing is wrong. 

"The pressure okay?"

"Yep," you say tightly, your entire body tensing up under his hands. He moves his hands back to your neck and rubs gently. 

"Just relax," he whispers huskily. "We're finishing up."

This seems to relax you more, the thought that soon you'll be gone from this table. 

He needs you gone from the table, from the room, from his practice. The more he touches you and looks at you, knowing how naked you are under that sheet, the more he feels that coiled sensation in his belly. He tries to ignore that ache in his cock. But the more he tries to ignore it the more it seems to pulse. 

Your head shifts slightly, showing him more of your neck and suddenly he can't help himself. His face drifts slowly towards it, so close he can smell your perfume or your shampoo or lotion. Whatever it is, it’s fucking delicious. It makes him want to run his tongue along your neck.  

His eyes drift to your ear with its simple stud and Joel knows he’s in trouble because your fucking ear is turning him on. He clears his throat, voice rumbling from the base of his chest.  

"Need it harder?"

He watches you shiver, sees the goosebumps rise all along your body and now he notices the tiny buds of your nipples through the top sheet. He holds in a growl as you give a small whimper. 

"Uh... Yes, thank you."

Your breathy voice is so tentative and he loathes that it makes his cock twitch. He glances down to see his erection tents his pants almost comically now. 

That's enough. This is a fucking patient, Miller. 

He briefly removes his hands from you and stands, planning on flipping his aching cock up in the waistband of his boxers. 

There's a sharp ring from inside your purse across the room that startles you both. 

"Oh, shit, sorry," you say automatically lifting your head from the table and opening your eyes. "I thought I turned the ringer off-"

You've stopped talking and Joel realizes it's because his hard cock is almost at your eye level and you're staring directly at it. Joel's hands are hung at his sides, uselessly. 

Your eyes drag to his, wide and unreadable and they stay fixed there for what feels like forever. The sound of the phone ringing grows dim and then finally silences. 

He's going to be fucking arrested. You're going to leave a scathing review on Google. You're going to start screaming any second. 

Joel feels like his entire world is being tilted on its axis the more your eyes drift between him and his still hard cock. 

"I've... I don't..... I've never," Joel fumbles, trying to come up with the right words. "No ones ... No patients ever done this before... To me, I mean."

You flush so prettily at that, your smile is shy and crooked. You look at the table, embarrassed before your face is turned up to face him again. 

"Would you..." You trail off licking your lips nervously. Joel feels his cock pulsing when you do.  "Would it be okay if... If I.. Or you...?"

Joel watches your fingers reaching for his zipper before stopping, waiting for him to give the go ahead. 

I should leave. Tell her it's inappropriate and go. 

Joel ignores this thought entirely, instead he nods in understanding as he pops open the top button of his pants and slides the zipper down the teeth. Your eyes watch its descent with eager anticipation. 

His cock is stiff in his boxers and he shyly covers the thick shaft and head poking aggressively from the slit in the middle. He expects that this will turn you off, his obvious arousal. But your eyes have grown glazed, mouth parted. 

"Can I…touch?"

Joel sees your hand going towards the hand covering his cock. He swallows nervously. This is crossing all ethical and moral boundaries.

And yet ...

Joel nods, dropping his hand and you hesitate for a only a moment before your eyes drift to the belt at his hip. He realizes you've spotted the lotion bottle inside. Joel says nothing as you pump a few dabs of the massage oil into your palm before rubbing your hands together. 

He feels his heart begin to hammer as your hand reaches between the two of you to grip the head of his cock lightly. Barely a touch and Joel feels a groan pulled from his chest. 

His gaze is on your hand, watching as you begin to stroke, squeezing along the head. The lotion makes your hand glide perfectly, your grip strong and tight. 

He lets his eyes drift over to your face and a new surge of arousal goes through him. Your face is fixed in concentration, cheeks flushed so fucking pretty. You give a twist of your wrist that has Joel's legs about to buckle. 

"Oh fuck," Joel moans, head tilting forward. "So....Tha- that's so fucking good, baby." 

///

Baby.

Your thighs press together almost painfully at his husky voice calling you that. 

Baby. 

You cannot believe what's happening. An hour ago you were terrified to have a stranger touch you and now you're jerking off your masseur's deliciously thick cock as he calls you baby. 

He's so beautiful, eyes closed, hands braced against the table as you stroke him. He thrusts shallowly into your hand, wanting you to take the lead. 

Everything about him is sexy to you. His tall frame arching over the table for you, the way you can see his ass clench in his pants when he moves against your palm. The little groans you're pulling from him, sailing past his teeth almost shyly. 

Your own breathing is staggered because you can't stop looking at his mouth. It's parted, his breath coming out in long shudders. You want to kiss him so fucking badly but you're lying back on the table and he's standing. You wish you could see more of him, not just the cock pulled from the slit of his boxers.

"I don't deserve this," Joel groans, his shoulders rolling as he arches into your pumping hand. 

"You do. You made me feel so good," you say softly. "I just wanna do the same."

His dark eyes open, glazed and fixed on you. His eyes dart everywhere, from your eyes to your mouth to your eyes and back down to your mouth. 

You flinch when you feel his fingers slip under the sheet and begin to trail along your inner thigh. 

"Wanna do it again," he rumbles. "Properly if that's okay."  

You can only breathe shallowly as you force a nod. It's barely more than a twitch but it's all he needs. His fingers slide between your thighs, dancing there. He groans as he does this, your hand working him well. 

He licks his lower lip, eyes never leaving your face as his fingers glide over your clothed pussy. You instinctively tilting into his touch, cheeks flaming. Joel runs a forefinger between your slit, feeling the soaking fabric of your panties there. You give a whimper as his eyelids shutter. 

"I made you this wet?"

His voice is low, awed. 

Again you give the smallest nod, feeling warm when Joel smiles at you. He looks so pleased with himself. 

You dip your eyes down your body, unable to see anything other than movement of his hand under the sheet. For some reason that makes it even hotter. 

Your eyes go back to his face just in time for his finger to slip under your panties and begin to tease your entrance. At this your body jerks and the sheet falls slightly, showing you left breast and very erect nipple. You watch his eyes greedily drink in the sight. 

"Goddam."

Joel's hips begin to stutter and you feel his hand come to rest overtop yours. His hand is large and warm and he holds you gently, stilling your movements. 

"Slower," he tells you in a rasp. "Want us to get there together."

Fuck. Could this guy get any sexier?

"Okay."

At this his finger enters you, joined quickly by a second at your whispered insistence. You struggle to maintain a slow speed over his slippery cock because of it. He begins to slowly work his way deep, curling delicately. You give a shuddering inhale, eyes at half mast. 

"You want it harder?" Joel murmurs and from your position you can see his eyes are nearly black with desire as he looks down at your face. "Seem to remember you sayin' that's how you liked it." 

You can only whimper as you nod. His palm grinds against your clit sending sparks of fire up your body. 

"F-uuck!"

Your hand is slick with oil and you can hear your dual breathing and the wet sound of your hand working his cock mixing with the harmonious strings and wood flutes being played over the speaker. 

You don't even know you're whining until Joel's free hand presses a finger to your lips, gently shushing you. 

"They're gonna hear us," he tells you, voice rough and pupils dilated so much his eyes look black. You nod and he removes his finger from against your lips, much to your dismay. 

Joel watches as your eyes roll back when he begins to move his fingers within you in earnest. Hitting deep and then retreating, pulsing there, curling and rubbing perfectly. Your hips begin to thrust in time with your strokes along his cock and Joel's eyes go from his cock to the blanket where his fingers work you so well. 

Your eyes travel to where your hand works him. Holding him twitching in your palm, watching the head weep with precome makes you feel powerful. Taking down this broad, masculine form with no more than gentle tugs to his cock. 

Joel-" you whisper, trying to be quiet but you're struggling. It feels so good. He feels so good. His eyes move to your face, his neck and cheeks flushed. 

"Gonna come for me right here," Joel tells you in that low, syrupy way he speaks. The one that says relax, tell me if it's too hard. "Aren't you?"

"Y-yes," you huff, your entire body going rigid. "Yes, gonna come for you, Joel."

Joel feels his stomach tighten at the way you whimper his name. Your back arches, your hand is a blur along his cock. And then suddenly his fingers hit that sweet spot deep inside, the one that has everything in your body coming to life and your eyes roll back. 

"Oh there she goes," Joel marvels. "There she fuckin' goes."

Joel's words curl down your body like his hands have done the last hour. They smooth and they press and they make you feel fucking amazing. 

"Gonna... " is all you can get before your pleasure overtakes you. You’re body jolts once more and your head slopes back as you snap your free hand over your mouth to keep your moans contained. 

"Uh huh, yeah baby, just like that," Joel urges you in heady whispers as you begin to climax. "You look so fucking good coming for me lik-- So fuck... Oh fuck... Makin' me-"

Joel slaps his free hand over his mouth seconds after over you. You let out a ragged moan at precisely the same time, the two of you climaxing with your hands over your mouths so as not to be heard.

His fingers work within you, pumping even as Joel releases himself in thick spurts over your stuttering hand. You soak his fingers under the sheet, body twisting with greedy desire as he stares at your face. 

The soft glow of sex fades quickly when the gentle chime of Joel's phone goes off seconds later. Suddenly reality makes itself known, cold and unpleasant as Joel’s cock grows limp in your hand.

What the fuck just happened?

Joel reaches behind him to the shelf and turns back, taking your hand in his and wiping his spend from your palm, between your knuckles, down your wrist. He does this with a red face, not once looking at you. That's for the best because you're so mortified you want to shrivel up under the blanket. 

When he's finished he runs a thumb over your knuckles, eyes darting to your face briefly before he drops your hand. He turns from you and tidies himself up, tucking himself away back in his boxers and zipping up his pants. 

"That's uh... That's all we have time for today," Joel croaks from over his shoulder. 

"Thanks," you say breathily, trying to regain your composure. You stare at his broad shoulders and tapered waist. The firm ass that you want to reach out a grab. 

"How do you feel?"

He still hasn't turned around and you wonder what he's thinking. His eyes are so expressive and to have them hidden from you seems a shame because you can't gauge how he feels about what just happened.

 "Uh ... Really good... You're very... Good."

At this Joel swallows and you feel like you're face must be on fire. You want to say something, anything to end this awkward exchange but Joel is already striding to the door. 

"I'll leave you to get dressed, then."

The door giving a snick closed behind him leaving you to shakily get up from the table. You don't even look to see the evidence of your arousal; you just bunch the sheets up in a pile with shame creeping down your neck. 

You don't even know if Joel is married or dating. Just because you're not doesn't mean he doesn't have a very fulfilling relationship outside these four walls. Guilt now takes you over to go along with the shame, like longtime friends holding hands and skipping. 

The worst part of all of this was how much you liked it. The needing to be quiet, the rush of doing something forbidden, the feeling of his cock growing harder and harder in your grip. Making a man like that groan and moan for you. You wish you'd tasted him, even just a lick. You also wish he'd talked more. That deep voice of his is more potent than any aphrodisiac you know of. 

What the fuck is wrong with me? This is a business. I just jerked a stranger off! This shouldn't turn me on. 

You pull on your clothes in haste, tugging the purse over your shoulder and jerking open the door in a rush to leave. To your horror Joel stands just outside in the hallway, eyes on the ground. He looks like an admonished schoolboy forced to make an apology and the sight of it makes you wince. 

"How're-"

You don't wait for him to finish the sentence. You want to get away from this place as soon as possible. You give a mumbling goodbye and move past him out the door, just as quiet and detached as when he first met you. 

You burst into the waiting room, the door main closing behind you. It's empty save for the receptionist who looks over at you in surprise. 

"I'm just here to pay," you tell her, hoping she can't see the shame in your eyes. You go to bring out your wallet from your purse. 

"It's already been paid," The receptionist says cheerfully typing on her laptop. 

Pam. Of course you're roommate paid for it. You flush as you consider what she actually paid for. 

"Would you like to make another appointment?" The receptionist asks cheerfully. "Joel's schedule tends to fill up fast."

You swallow, fingers hovering over the counter. The question is so simple but the answer is anything but obvious.

Yes or No?

[heich0e]

polluted geto suguru, gojo satoru, ryomen sukuna, kamo choso/f!reader word count: 11k warnings: 18+ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT, recreational drug use (weed), dubious consent, slight sexual coercion, sex under the influence, gangbang, oral sex (f! and m!receiving), double penetration (oral and vaginal), biting, spitting, creampie, snowballing, pussyjob, fingering, choking, squirting, hair pulling, generally rough sex, implication of non-consensual filming/photography, shotgunning, college!au, no curses!au, slight dumbification, ft a cameo from nanami. a/n: this is a continuation of a drabble i posted ages ago (the first few hundred words of this fic!) feel free to skip that if you've already read it. also these tags alone are sending me to hell. enjoy! never talk to me about this again! crossposted to AO3

"D'ya want some?" Gojo asks up at you, his head in your lap as you tap at the screen of your cellphone idly, leaving a heart on a friend's perfectly filtered photo that only makes you feel a little bitter when you look at it.

"Hm?" you ask, glancing down towards him as he peers up at your face. He has a bag of gummy candy resting on his tummy, and you part your lips and stick your tongue out slightly, asking for one of his sweets.

He lets out a little heh at your expression before popping a pink and blue candy–dusted with a sweet-sour crystalline coating–into your waiting mouth.

"I meant the weed," Gojo answers your earlier hum only once you begin to chew the treat he'd just fed you. He sticks his thumb in his mouth, licking it clean of the tangy sugar that clings to it. "D'ya want some?"

"Oh," you reply, eyes flickering to the other side of Gojo and Geto's dorm room where Choso is seated on the floor, a pillow on his lap and an old DVD case on top of it. He's diligently packing the ground up weed into a rolling paper–little bits of green clinging to the tips of his fingers like the sugar had to Gojo's. "I don't think so."

You really shouldn't.

"Why?" Satoru asks petulantly. He's not smoking either–isn't allowed to since the last time when he threw up in Geto's backpack and ruined his social anthropology textbook–but he seems indignant at your refusal. 

Choso's dark eyes flicker up to you too, as though interested in your reply, but when he sees you looking back at him he busies himself with his rolling once more with a streak of pink curling across his cheeks. 

He's still a little shy around you.

"Who cares?" Sukuna chimes in from where he's reclining in Gojo's desk chair at the end of the bed, tossing a miniature foam basketball up into the air idly before catching it in one large hand and repeating the motion. "Means more weed for us. Fushiguro said this is good shit when I picked up earlier, too."

"That guy with the scar?" Geto asks, peeking out from under his textbook and Sukuna grunts out some sort of affirmative. 

Suguru is sprawled out across his bed directly opposite you now that Nanami left to return to his own room–finding the rest of you too distracting to get anything done during what was supposed to be a study session.

You feel something prod against your lips and look down to see Gojo attempting to feed you another sweet. You let him. 

"You didn't answer my question," he singsongs as you bite down on the chewy confection between your teeth. 

You push most of the rapidly melting, sticky-sweet candy into your cheek with your tongue to talk around it. "I get really.... annoying when I'm high."

Gojo stares up at you for a moment before pulling himself into a seated position at your side.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

A chuckle from across the room tears your eyes away from Satoru's inquisitive gaze, and towards Sukuna who has suddenly stopped tossing the basketball and instead has his attention fixed on you.

You glare at him weakly, knowing what he's thinking without him saying it. "Shut up."

It only makes him laugh again, a sharp smirk on his lips.

"What?" Gojo whines, missing the unspoken words you and Sukuna have exchanged.

"Weed doesn't make her annoying," Sukuna drawls, tossing the basketball up again, only this time away from him–you watch as it curves gracefully in the air, swishing through the little net Geto and Gojo have affixed to the back of their door. "She's always annoying."

"Kuna–" you mumble warningly, your cheeks flushing hot as you squirm nervously atop the rumpled sheets of Satoru's bed.

Everyone has stopped what they're doing now: Suguru's textbook set aside, Choso's fingers stilling with the edge of the nearly finished joint pinched between them.

Sukuna's smirk turns into something even sharper, a smile unfurling slow and wicked across his face. 

"Weed doesn't make her annoying–it makes her into a whore."

Everything is hot.

The prickle of smoke in your lungs each time the joint is held to your lips—though you’ve lost track of whose fingers are holding it out to you now.

The flush that curls up your neck and through your face. It burns, almost; blood rushing too close to the surface of your skin to be comfortable.

The three sets of eyes you feel on your skin from various places around the room.

Sukuna’s mouth.

The dorm room smells unmistakably of weed–heavy, earthy, dank—even with the window open and a fan on to whisk the curling plumes of smoke outside. There’s a grimy old towel crammed into the space underneath the door to keep the scent from seeping out into the hallway, but the boys’ RA has let them get away with far worse in their time in residence. At this point you’re not exactly sure what it would take for them to earn a warning knock, much less any sort of formal reprimand.

You guess it pays to have your family’s name plastered on most of the buildings on campus like Satoru’s does.

There’s music playing in the room, bass heavy and slow, and you know it must be Geto’s doing even if you aren’t sure when he turned it on. You recognize the familiar sound from late night drives you’ve taken with him in his car—an old silver sedan that he takes immaculate care of, constantly tinkering away at it—and the songs he sends you to listen to from the other side of your table in the library while you study. The music, like the towel, serves its own purpose.

To mask the sound of you.

“‘Kuna,” you pant raggedly, fingers twisting into his blush pink hair and tugging. He sucks harder at the sensitive spot on your neck that he’s been lavishing with attention for the past few minutes—the one he’s more than familiar with from previous hookups—in retaliation. “Kiss me, kiss me.”

He chuckles, but indulges your desperation, mouthing his way back to your lips: up your throat, along your jaw, eventually slotting his soft mouth to yours. 

“She’s so whiny when she’s high,” Gojo says breathlessly, but he sounds closer to you than you expect him to. 

You peel your heavy eyelids open only to see him hovering just over Sukuna’s shoulder, blinking when you spot his unsettlingly blue eyes watching you raptly. You try to pull back from Sukuna’s rapacious kiss, startled by Satoru’s proximity, but the boy beneath you’s insistent hands hold you even more firmly to his lap in protest–earning him another needy sound from your throat as your hips grind down against his own. Your lips part in a silent cry of objection, and Sukuna takes it as an invitation to press his tongue even deeper into your open mouth.

“When’s someone else gonna get a turn?” Gojo complains, reaching out to tug on a bit of your hair beside your cheek childishly. 

You’d chastise him if Sukuna’s tongue wasn’t mapping the depths of your throat.

“Relax, Satoru.” Geto snorts from his place on his dormitory bed. 

Suguru’s textbook has long been discarded on the floor, the page he’d been reading marked but the time for revision evidently passed, and his hair has been retied into a neater knot at the top of his head, pulled back from his handsome face. His eyes watch carefully as Sukuna’s hands slip up underneath the hem of your top, thumbs dipping beneath the cups of your bra to sweep against the soft flesh. Suguru glances at the blonde still lingering over you from where he sits reclined–his legs crossed and body language apathetic though his attention feels anything but. 

“We’ll all get our chance, so just enjoy the show.”

Sukuna draws back suddenly, lips parting from yours with one final wet smack. 

He hums, nosing at your cheek as you try futilely to chase his mouth, whimpering as he denies you it. There’s a smirk curling, smug and cruel and sure, at the corner of his lips. 

“He might have a point, y’know,” Sukuna drawls.

You make a little sound of confusion, your hands slipping from the back of Sukuna’s neck to the front of his t-shirt, pressing against the hard planes of his chest as you balance yourself atop his lap. The rolling desk chair you’re straddling him in really isn’t meant for two, especially not when you’re as dizzy as you currently feel, but Sukuna keeps you steady with his large hands braced on your hips.

He’d coaxed you over after your first few puffs and hadn’t let you leave his grasp since.

“Stop teasing,” you murmur, eyes tracing his pink, spit-slicked lips covetously.

“But if I fuck you first, that’s not really fair is it?—”

He tilts his face up and kisses you, deceptively gentle, and then pinches your bottom lip between his sharp teeth—pulling away until it slips from his bite and snaps back into place. You’re bewildered by his comment, peering at him curiously as your lip stings.

When has Sukuna ever cared about being fair? 

He chuckles at your expression, as though he senses your thought without you saying it.

”—Not when I know just how you like it.”

“Do you two do this a lot?” Geto asks from his bed on the other side of the room, his tone level and impassive. Sukuna’s scarlet gaze flickers to him over your shoulder, and he grins—sharp and mean.

“Only when she begs for it.”

You’d refute the claim, but it has its grounds.

“That’s big talk, Ryomen,” Geto remarks, but there’s an unmistakably competitive undercurrent to his lighthearted tone.

“Too much talk,” Satoru interjects exasperatedly, cutting between the two men’s tense exchange and dragging you up to your feet in one swift motion. He’s at the end of his non-existent patience. 

You move easily, pliably, under Gojo’s greater strength and imposing stature as he hauls you up; you stumble forward into his chest, unbalanced on your feet as your head swims. You’re dizzy, everything a little fuzzy around the edges, but he holds you steady with his palms cupping your cheeks and ducks down to crush his mouth to yours.

Satoru tastes sweet like the candy he was eating earlier, though you can’t honestly say how long it’s been since he’s polished off the bag, and he sounds just as tooth-achingly saccharine. Little moans and groans of praise slip from him unbidden as he topples back across his bed and drags you down with him.

“Toru, be careful,” you complain against his eagerness, the words half-lost to his lips, but he doesn’t seem to care. 

He flips you over so you’re the one on your back, rising to his knees and pulling your hips down towards him so they rest atop his thighs. Your shoulder blades press into the soft give of his mattress, blinking up at him as he curls forward over your frame until the two of you are nose to nose. His breathing is notably faster, heavier than it had been before, as his hands trail up and down your sides, mapping every divot and curve of your thighs, hips and ribs.

“You’re so pretty,” he sighs infatuatedly, before locking your mouths together once more.

Satoru’s hands are greedy and relentless: pawing and groping at any part of you that he can reach. When he stretches his fingers wide, you’re almost startled by just how much of your torso they can span, digging into your flesh in fervent squeezes.

“I bet you taste good,” he breathes hotly against your mouth, pulling back to look at you with his pupils blown wider than you’ve ever seen them—it’s hard to believe he hasn’t taken a single hit from the joint at all with the way the inky black threatens to swallow the striking blue of his irises.

You hear a deep exhale, and the smell of smoke in the room thickens for a moment. Your head lolls to the side against Satoru’s soft cotton bedspread, and your unfocused eyes slide to Sukuna as he breathes out a wispy cloud of grey. His next words are directed to Gojo, but his attention is only on you. 

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

Satoru heeds his advice zealously, and makes his way down your body while you writhe beneath him. It’s a little inundating, the way he touches you—the pressure of his body on yours, the heat of his big big hands, the praises that he whispers into every place his lips graze.

“Toru, I’m hot,” you complain, squirming as he kisses along your ribs.

He peeks up at you over the curve of your tummy, toying with the hem of your shirt between his fingers. His bright eyes are wide with excitement and his cheeks are flushed a pretty shade of pink. “I can help you with that.” 

Eagerly he works to peel your top off over your head, it’s a little uncoordinated but you feel an immediate relief as the cool air from the fan meets your sticky skin. Satoru ducks down once your top has been shucked aside and you’re laid flat against the bed again, sucking a stinging mark into the swell of your chest that peeks out from your bra. He cups one palm around either breast to push them together and further into his drooling mouth. But still he doesn’t linger, frenetic in his avidity, moving quickly back down to the waistband of your pants and toying with the button of your jeans that holds them closed.

“Please, Satoru,” you mumble, almost shyly but undeniably strained, as his fingertips stroke the soft skin just below your navel.

He looks at you with a cheshire grin, pleased beyond anything to have you begging, and he needs no further encouragement to pop the closure open. 

You lift your hips so Satoru can tug your jeans down your thighs, but he wastes no time in settling back between your parted thighs.

“Oh, look at her,” he coos, his thumb pressing against the damp patch of cotton between your legs. Your hips squirm at the pressure, but he keeps you pinned in place. “You’re so wet.”

With no warning, he dips down and sucks against the material lewdly.

“Toru!” you gasp, a hand flying to his hair and tugging on the impossibly soft white strands, though it does nothing to pry him away from his prize.

“Shh, shh,” he quiets you, pinching at your thigh punitively until your grip slackens, “I don’t wanna waste it.”

In seconds the cotton is soaked through with his spit, clinging to the lips of your cunt as he pushes it between your folds with his tongue. He hums happily with every debauched slurp.

“This is nasty,” Geto says with a laugh as he watches the spectacle unfolding from the bed opposite, sounding every bit as though he’s enjoying himself. “You’re always such a freak, Satoru.” 

You’re a little too far gone to catch the implication that you’re not the first girl the two of them have shared. Probably not even in this very room.

“Give her another hit, Kamo,” Sukuna chimes in from his seat at the end of the bed, leaning back leisurely in his chair as he takes in the scene before him.

You’d almost forgotten Choso was there, honestly, especially with Gojo’s tongue toying with your clit through the thin material of your panties. You tilt your head to the side, looking through the hazy dorm room to see the youngest (and the quietest) of the four men watching you with pink in his cheeks, and another unlit joint between his fingers. 

Another one? How many have you gone through now?

Choso approaches trepidatiously, and crouches next to the bed beside your head. He clicks the purple plastic lighter held in his fingers, sparking it to life, and holds it to the end of the joint pinched between his lips. He takes a small puff to start it off, pursing his mouth to the side on his exhale as he tries not to blow the smoke into your already teary eyes. He gently holds the unlit end to your lips in offering once it’s burning.

“Just a little one, okay?” you say warily, wrapping your lips around the little paper filter. He nods with his gaze on nothing but your mouth, and swallows thickly. 

You feel the first prickle of smoke in your burning lungs at the exact moment Gojo wraps his lips around your clit and sucks hard.

You gasp, drawing in a breath too deeply, and immediately choke on the bitter, acrid taste that floods your throat. You cough and cough, smoke slipping from your mouth and nose while your back arches high off Satoru’s bed with every hack, and spit dribbles from the corner of your lips messily.

“Are you alright?” Choso asks, immediately tossing the joint aside into the grody, chipped ashtray resting under the window. He quickly wipes the saliva on your chin away with the edge of his hoodie sleeve, looking at you with panicked eyes.

“Oh, Satoru, that was mean,” Geto calls from his place across the room, but he sounds almost pleased.

“She’s not paying attention to me.” Gojo pulls back from between your legs, a pout on his slick, swollen lips. A long, viscid string of saliva stretches and breaks between his mouth and your throbbing clit. 

Sukuna laughs, thoroughly entertained. “Maybe she’s tired of you sucking on her g-string like a perv.”

“Is that true?” Gojo asks you, sounding almost wounded as he drags you down towards him across the mattress. You’ve still barely caught your breath, your head spinning in a way you don’t quite like as he drops to his knees on the floor. He positions your hips at the very edge of the bed and hooks your knees over either one of his shoulders, your thighs parting further to accommodate his broad frame.

He doesn’t bother to wait for a response to his own question as his lithe fingers pry your soaking wet underwear down your thighs, and the tell-tale sound of cotton tearing tells you that you won’t be putting them back on again. He tosses the tattered remains towards Choso who catches them in confusion, glancing between the sopping scraps in his hand and the man who had thrown them at him.

“You can play with those while you wait your turn,” Gojo says to him, his voice shifting from the cloying, petulant tone he’d used with you into something low, firm, and warning. He suddenly sounds every bit the young scion you know him to be.

Satoru’s blue eyes flicker back to you, as if to make sure you’re watching, and then he dips down and seals his mouth against your bare pussy.

It’s hot, wet, and overwhelming—a sound not dissimilar to a squeal is torn out of you as Satoru’s tongue moves, messy and relentless, between your legs. You’d almost call his technique uncoordinated if it wasn’t so disastrously effective; pleasure curls tight in your belly with every slick suck against your clit, though it’s a mounting burn like panic.

“Toru, I—ngh, haa—s-slow down please I—“ you’re babbling and you know it, barely coherent as your head swims. Before you can even formulate a complete utterance, each fleeting thought less tangible than the last,  Satoru’s teeth bite down into the flesh of your inner thigh and you shriek.

“So fuckin’ noisy,” Sukuna muses flatly from his chair at the end of the bed. He’s got a front row seat to watching Gojo devour you—and to the angry red imprint of teeth he’s left burning on your thigh—but he stands, shuffling across the room towards the window by your head. You’re too distracted to keep track of his movements as he plucks your panties from Choso’s hand and approaches the bed where you lie defenseless under the ministrations of Gojo’s tongue. 

Sukuna stares down at you for a moment, but you can barely keep your eyes open to meet his gaze.

“Open up,” he says, tapping your cheek with the knuckle of his crooked index finger.

You oblige without thinking, lips parting and tongue pressing forward slightly between them. Without any warning, he stuffs the remnants of your undergarment into your mouth.

The fabric tastes of your slick and Gojo’s spit, sticky and tangy and obscene, and it makes your already dry mouth feel even more desiccated as your moans bleed into the material.

Satoru whines into your cunt, a thoroughly pleased sound at the debauched sight. He grinds shamelessly against the end of his bed as he kneels at the foot of it, his hands holding your hips even firmer against his face as his tongue laps against your twitching hole all the way back up to your clit.

“You gonna cum for him?” Sukuna asks, watching the way your eyes are fighting to stay open, the way your fingers are gripping weakly into the blankets beneath you.

You nod, your mouth stuffed too full for anything else, with tears burning in your bleary eyes.

He smirks. “Give ‘em a good show then, will ya?”

He takes his seat again, knees spread as his hand passes lightly over the half-hard swell of his own cock, ready to watch you fall apart.

Your back bows on a particularly enthusiastic suck against your clit, your thighs clamping down hard over Satoru’s ears. Electricity thrums live through your veins, crackling from one end of your body to the other until you see it spark behind your eyes, and the sound of your desperate voice stops registering in your empty mind as your own as your muffled cries turn rapturous.

“Wow,” you distantly hear Geto—at least you think it’s Suguru’s voice—remark approvingly, watching the way your thighs twitch around his best friend’s neck as your orgasm rips through you.

Your muscles go slack as your clit throbs dully, still victim to Satoru’s insatiable tongue, your legs nearly slipping off his shoulders as your pulse thrums in your ears. Your trembling fingers reach up to fish the panties out of your mouth as you pant desperately for breath.

Satoru’s bed is surprisingly comfortable, you can’t help but notice as you fight to draw in air. It’s way more comfortable than your own standard issue dorm mattress, and you wonder if he’d brought his own to furnish the room on move-in day as you sink back into it. Your eyes are shut, and you feel like you could slip away to the call of sleep if you just—

“That was so pretty, you’re so pretty, god you taste so good,”—Satoru scrambles up, leaving you no time to recover from the sedulous talents of his overactive mouth, pulling his hard cock out of his jeans and shucking them down to mid-thigh hurriedly—“you’re so perfect.”

Your eyes flutter open and down to watch as he runs himself through the mess he’s made, rutting just the underside of his cock against you as precum oozes from his slit. Your breath hitches as you catch sight of him for the first time. 

“Satoru–”

He holds both of your knees together with a single hand, twisting your hips slightly to one side and grinding himself against the wet heat of your pussy, but never sinking inside. You’re not sure you could even take it, he’s so big; anyone else’s dick would look small in comparison to Satoru’s hands, but his is perfectly, terrifyingly proportionate to the rest of him. 

Fortunately for you, he seems content to fuck himself against you like this– or too desperate to do much of anything else—the patch of neatly trimmed white hair at the base of his flushed cock brushing against the back of your thighs on every frantic thrust.

“Your pussy is so soft, so wet,” Satoru prattles on incessantly as he grinds against you, his hips clapping against your ass with every rut, “so good. D’you know that? You know that, right?”

You don’t answer him. Can’t answer him. Struck dumb by the ebbing glow of your orgasm, the sight of his enormous cock, and the THC flooding through your bloodstream. Your silence doesn’t seem to bother him in any case—he seems far more interested in the sound of his own voice than in anything that you might have to say in reply.

Satoru stays vocal as he chases his own pleasure, moaning and praising you blindly as he humps himself between your thighs. It doesn’t take much longer until he cums across your stomach with a blissed out keen that puts every pornstar you’ve ever seen to shame. His hands hold you tight against his twitching hips as he cock kicks and gives one last long splatter of white across your tummy, all the way up to the valley of your ribs.

The room is quiet in the aftermath, save for the steady buzzing of the fan, the music playing from the speaker on Suguru’s desk, and the sound of you and Satoru’s laboured breathing.

But not for long.

“Jeez, do you always have to be so messy?” Geto asks, rising from his place across the room. But there’s no real bite in his comment—and there never is when it comes to Satoru. “You really need to learn to clean up after yourself.”

Gojo grabs your discarded panties from beside you on his bed and swipes them through the cum drying to your skin with a little giggle, barely cleaning you up at all. 

Geto gives him a harmless little knock against the back of his head, but doesn’t truly seem to mind. 

“You know, I really didn’t take you for such an exhibitionist,” he says to you as he pries your limp body up off Satoru’s bed, weak-kneed and unsteady as you may be, and helps you across the room towards his own. 

Suguru leads each of your wobbly steps like a dance—one arm wrapped snugly around your waist, and his other hand clasped around yours as he steers you across the narrow strip of floor between their respective halves of the room. He pulls you down to straddle his lap, your knees sinking into his mattress (not nearly as plush as Satoru’s) on either side of his hips as you bounce lightly on the creaky springs, while he rests with his back against the dorm wall.

“I’m not, Suguru,” you mumble petulantly, fisting his t-shirt as he holds you flush against him. He smells good, even through the stench of the weed clinging to him and you and everything else in the room—like new paper, laundry detergent, and the conditioner you’d bought for him once that he never stopped using—and you nuzzle instinctively into his neck to get closer to the scent. You must be making a mess of his grey sweatpants, but he doesn’t complain.

“Sure, sure,” he says breezily, and you feel the gentle warmth of his hand on your chin as he tilts your face up towards him. 

He kisses you and it’s hungry.

Tongues sliding, mouths parted, teeth nipping at your already sore lips.

Kissing Suguru is nice, you think. It feels familiar even in its foreignness. Welcome even in the head rush. You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about it before, even if your relationship has only ever been platonic: in quiet moments in his beloved car, late night study dates in isolated corners of the library, midnight walks across campus to the convenience store to sate an ill-timed craving. His lips had always been tempting, but it’s even better than you may have hoped. 

You lose yourself in it, a little bit—whatever is left of you to be lost, anyway.

You barely notice as his nimble fingers undo the clasp of your bra, easing it away until you’re completely bare against him; too preoccupied to piece together that you’re the only person in the room who isn’t fully clothed. He tilts his face away from you for a moment, leaving you to kitten lick at the corner of his mouth distractingly. 

“Pass me the joint,” he grunts out towards Choso, tossing your bra aside as haplessly as Gojo had discarded the rest of your clothes, and his junior hands the half-burned spliff to him obediently.

“Don’t want any more,” you murmur against Suguru’s cheek, dipping down and tucking your face into the crook of his neck again. 

He laughs, and you feel the sound reverberate through his chest and into yours.

“Just a little bit?” he urges you, an affectionate arm snaking around your waist and squeezing. “For me?”

You shake your head as much as you’re able with your burning face hidden against his throat.

“Here,” he coaxes you out with a gentle knead of his fingers into your thigh, and you find yourself peeking up at him against your better judgement. “You’ll barely even get high from this, it’s just to keep you feeling good.” 

You don’t know if what he says is true, but you let him do it anyway. He takes a long drag from the joint, his serpentine eyes watching you carefully as the cherry flares bright red and angry, and then he seals his mouth over yours and exhales. 

You breathe in the heavy, polluted air from his lungs like a reflex.

“There you go,” he says, drawing back and watching contently as you exhale a little cloud of smoke. It’s fainter than if you’d taken the hit yourself, and burns less in your chest, so you think he must be right. “Easy.” 

Things get fuzzier after that.

Suguru has you on your hands and knees, though you don’t quite know how you got there. Maybe you’d moved yourself, maybe he’d instructed you, or maybe he’d maneuvered your pliant body with the force of his own two hands. But here you are, your face pressed into a pillow that smells of him, his body curving over yours from behind. 

You feel his bare chest against your back, and wonder when he’d taken off his shirt. Wonder if it’s the only thing that’s bare. Suguru mouths at the nape of your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

“Y’know, I’ve been waiting a long time for this,--” he whispers the words so softly that you’re sure only you can hear them. They rattle around through your brain for a moment, incoherent in the buzz. 

Once they finally do register, there’s a part of you—a distant, more sober part, that’s watching things unfold warily—wonders if he means longer than just the time he’d watched Sukuna and Satoru play with you. His fingers trail down your sides, and you shiver. 

“--but it’s okay. I’m patient.”

“Suguru!” you cry out as he slips the head of his cock inside of you without warning. You aren’t ready, even though you’re wet—Gojo hadn’t stretched you out, and Suguru’s fingers, for all their teasing and toying, had never pressed inside.

“God, how’s your pussy so tight?” he hisses through his teeth, the stifling heat of his body fading as he draws himself up to rest on his knees. He has one hand on the small of your back holding you down, while the other is on your ass–spreading you apart so he can see the way he’s pressing into your pussy. 

He’s still barely inside of you, but his hips still as he takes in the way your walls are stretched around him, sucking him in. He takes a moment to collect himself, then glances over his shoulder at Sukuna. 

“You must not actually be fucking her as well as you think you are.”

Sukuna scowls. “Fuck you.”

“Bit busy right now,” Suguru replies, feigning flippancy as he snaps his hips forward harshly, sheathing himself all the way to the hilt. He grinds against your ass as you whimper into his pillow, the sound muffled beyond recognition by the cotton of his pillowcase. “But hit me up later.”

Geto is brutal in the way he fucks you: unyielding, rough. But he touches you tenderly. Praises you gently under his breath after every thrust. It’s almost confusing; his hips at war with his hands, his actions at war with his words.

The initial pain and discomfort subsides quickly, thanks to Suguru’s fingers carefully rolling against your twitching clit. Every time you want to complain, he compensates his cruelty with something so pleasant that the protest dies on your lips. 

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight right now,” Suguru groans, fingers skirting up to pinch at one of your pebbled nipples. You clench down around him instinctively at the sensation. “You want to cum?”

There’s too much saliva in your mouth to answer him properly, too much blood rushing to your head to do anything more than whimper and nod as your fists twist into his blue bed sheets.

“Do you deserve to cum?” Suguru asks, his hips easing to a torturous grind behind you, dragging slow against your fluttering walls. “Gojo already made you cum once, and you didn’t even thank him for it.”

“Suguru, you’re being a bastard again,” Gojo laughs brightly from the other side of the room, though you can’t see him from where your head is pressed into the pillow.

“If you could feel how tight her little pussy just clamped down around me you’d know she likes it,” the man inside you laughs, something mean and manic in the sound. He curves himself over your back again, brushing a bit of your hair away from your face. “You tell Gojo thank you, and I’ll let you cum, how about that?” 

Geto’s fingers wrap themselves around your throat, pulling you upright with a hand cupped under your chin. There’s spit and tears on your face, and you feel them cooling against the breeze of the fan on the other side of the room as you blink against the brightness of the fluorescent light overhead.

You turn your head slightly with Suguru’s help, meeting Gojo’s eye from across the dorm. He’s got a cherry-red lollipop in his mouth now, staining his swollen lips. He’s seated with his legs crossed at the end of his bed, and he’s watching you intently as you peer over at him.

“Thank you, Toru,” you rasp, moaning when Geto’s hand squeezes a little bit tighter around your windpipe.

“For what?” Suguru urges you to continue, lips pressing against your hairline. He gives a slow, tantalizing roll of his hips, and he feels so much deeper at this angle–like he’s pressing right up against the inside of your stomach.

Your eyelids flutter, and you struggle to swallow under his grip.

You meet Gojo’s eager gaze again.

“Thank you for m-making me cum, Satoru.”

Gojo grins ferally around the candy in his mouth, and Geto hums, appeased. Goosebumps prickle across your skin as he presses a kiss to your sticky temple.

“Good girl.”

The hand not loosely cupping your throat snakes down between your legs, orbiting your tacky clit in quick, vicious circles—your reward. 

You cry out, nails scrabbling against his forearm near your throat blindly, your body slackening against the sudden onslaught of pleasure building in your core. Geto strength is the only thing keeping you upright as your body trembles.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Let everyone see how pretty you are when you cum on my cock.”

And you do.

You cum so hard under the relentless swipes of Suguru’s fingertips that it almost hurts. Your thighs shake as you come undone, the tightness in the centre of your core snapping like a cord wound up too taut. His hips don’t stop fucking you through your peak, your chest bouncing on every thrust, even as the pangs of overstimulation begin to twist the pleasure into something painful.

You hiccup over a sob. 

“Please, please,” you beg him, watery and desperate, slumping even further forward against his hold. “Suguru, s’too much, I can’t.”

He relents, mercifully—letting go of your throat and wrapping his arms around you from behind, pulling you upright against his chest again and pressing kisses to your neck. His tongue flicks out to taste the perspiration on your aching throat.

“You’re so good to us, aren’t you?” he murmurs into your skin, and you feel yourself nodding as his arms tighten around you.

Choso is still sitting on the floor beside the head of the bed, and his dark doe-eyes blink at you in surprise as your dizzy gazes meet—almost like he’s not anticipating being seen. He’s running his hand along the visible swell of his cock in his black joggers absentmindedly, but his touch is featherlight and barely there. He watches you watch him through a heavy-lidded gaze.

“You’re up, Kamo.” 

Suguru sounds warm, gregarious even, in his invitation, and it takes both of you by surprise. He shuffles away behind you, drawing back and leaving you terribly empty. You whine, falling forward to your elbows and narrowly avoiding landing on your face now that he’s not there to keep you upright.

“Su’gru, wait,” you slur needily, reaching behind you with your hand to grasp blindly where you expect him to be. You wiggle your hips in search of him, and feel your pussy fluttering around nothing.

Suguru’s fingers dance teasingly across your palm and then over your spine, down to your ass. He grips the soft give of muscle and fat, squeezing down into the flesh as laughter bubbles up in his throat.

“Make a bit of room, sweetheart. Choso needs a turn too,”—he gives you another squeeze, this time insistent—“you’ll let him use your pretty mouth, won’t you?”

You hum some sort of agreement.

Choso stands and approaches the bed, watching your expression carefully. He’s intrigued, undeniably, but seems poised to flee at the slightest indication of uncertainty on your part.

“Hi Choso,” you say as you blink up at him, sniffling as you push yourself weakly onto your haunches, your hands resting atop your knees. He’s blushed down to his throat as he dips his head at you in quiet greeting. Your hand reaches up to trail against the prominent outline of his cock below his waistband. “Can I?”

He nods, but it’s hesitant. “If you’re sure.”

Choso lowers himself into the bed, making sure not to jostle you too harshly as he finds his place with a leg on either side of your body, propped against the headboard.

You crawl forward towards his lap, nuzzling against the tent in his joggers and mouthing at the tip until you can taste the salty tang of his precum seeping through the fabric. He brushes some hair back from your eyes as you peek up at him.

His gaze is heavy, like the droop of his eyelids, and this close to him you see just how warm the deep brown of his eyes really is. So dark they almost look black, from this angle you can see the honey that runs behind the stygian surface.

He’s really very handsome in his own strangely delicate way, you can’t help but think.

Your hand creeps slowly below the waistband of his joggers, fingers following the little trail of coarse hair below his navel until you wrap your hand around him. His cock is hot and heavy, and you can feel it give a palpable little twitch as your fingers circle the surprising girth. Gently, you pull him out.

Even Choso’s cock is pretty. Long, curved, with purpled veins that run the length of him all the way to the flushing, leaking tip. He’s so hard. Achingly hard. You can’t believe how lightly he’d been touching himself when you see just how desperately aroused he is.

You dip forward and take the head of him into your mouth, suckling around him. Desperate to give him some sort of relief. Choso hisses in surprise as your lips seal themselves around the flared head, tonguing at the slit—almost like he hadn’t been expecting you to touch him at all.

Your eyes watch him intently, your brow quirking in curiosity.

“S’hot,” he explains, his deep, raspy voice incongruously diffident. “Your mouth is hot, s’all.”

You focus your attention on Choso’s tip for a while, because he seems so sensitive there—little gasps and twitches of his hips giving him away. Your drool drips slowly down to his balls, the waistband of his joggers tucked beneath them catching it, and you use your hand to slowly stroke the slickness back up from the base towards your mouth. 

It sounds messy–it is messy–but no one vocalizes the slightest bit of complaint.

Behind you, Suguru’s fingers dip just barely inside of you–twisting, curling and scissoring before they withdraw and roll slowly over your neglected clit. You’re not as sensitive as you had been, and the sensation is nice but never enough. Your hips cant back unconsciously towards him as you chase his touch for more, and it makes him laugh, but never quite indulge you.

Choso shifts slightly, taking the hem of his t-shirt that’s rucked up over the bottom of his tummy obstructing his view of you and bringing it up to pinch it between his teeth. As he lifts his shirt to expose his skin, he reveals two pink pierced nipples that make you keen in interest. 

You pull yourself off of him with a lewd slurp. 

“Those are pretty,” you say with a breathy sigh as you admire the little piercings, stroking his cock languidly in one hand. It makes a wet shlick shlick sound with every slippery pass. 

Choso lets out a garbled little sound of thanks around the t-shirt in his mouth. You reach up to brush over the metal, curious and experimental, and his thin frame is wracked by a shiver at your gentle touch—the muscles in his abdomen tightening before your eyes.

“Take him in your mouth again, baby. Deep.” Suguru’s voice urges you from over your shoulder, reminding you of the task at hand.

You obey, though you’re a little disappointed to have to tear your attention away from the stainless steel barbells on Choso’s flushing chest.

There’s a bit of discomfort as the fat tip of Choso’s cock squeezes its way past the entrance to your throat, but it’s nothing you can’t handle as you dig your fingertips down into his thighs to ground yourself. He groans, spit soaking into the material of his t-shirt held between his teeth, his eyes so heavy-lidded that they’re barely open as he watches you swallow him down. His cock gives a palpable twitch on your tongue as the pressure of your throat welcomes him in.

You moan around his length at the sensation.

With no warning at all, Suguru presses inside of you again from behind, stretching you open and filling you full full full. You might panic if not for the haze of your mind, but not even that delirious calm can keep you from involuntarily gagging around Choso’s cock as it nestles itself more firmly into the very back of your throat.

“Oh, you tightened up even more,” Suguru says happily, squeezing one of your ass cheeks as he rolls his hips into you, suffocating you even further on Choso’s cock, “do that again.”

You can’t breathe with Choso this deep, especially not with Suguru fucking into you from the other end, forcing any meagre amount of air you do manage to take in through shaky breaths promptly back out through your nose. Your lungs burn. Your jaw aches.

“Gojo, think you can get it up again? There’s a whole other hole going empty back here.” You suddenly feel a hot trail of spit drop against you, and Suguru’s slick fingertip traces teasingly around your rim.

“Ngh—” 

You rip yourself upright, desperate and frightened, saliva flying from your mouth as you cough now that Choso’s cock is no longer carving its way down your esophagus. You push yourself up onto your knees with your hands on Choso’s trembling thighs and instinctively try to crawl towards him, away from the man behind you.

You toss a panicked glance over your shoulder.

“—Suguru, no. I-I don’t like that.” 

It’s the first time you’ve made eye contact with Geto in some time, and definitely the first time you’ve denied him anything. His skin glistens with perspiration, hair slightly messy as it hangs around his shoulders from where half of it has fallen out of his bun at the crown of his head. His eyes are a little wild, but he softens at the sincere look of upset in your tearful gaze–using his grip on your hips to drag you back into his arms.

He presses little kisses across your face, as familiar and comforting as a lover might.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothes you, pecking his way along your cheeks to your quivering lips. “You know I’d never do anything you don’t like, right? I’m too crazy about you to ever do that.”

Something twists in your gut that doesn’t feel nice, though you can’t quite put your finger on why.

The song playing in the room trails off, and there’s a few beats of silence before the next kicks in.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

Do you?

You let him kiss you into submission once more, held tight in his embrace.

Geto’s hand finds yours and slowly guides your touch back to Choso’s cock, encouraging you to pump your hand up and down the slick length as he continues to kiss you senseless—he’s moving in time like a rhythm you can’t quite follow, resigning yourself to being swept along with the motions. Suguru’s hand around yours grips Choso so tight, and the boy laying on the bed grunts but doesn’t complain, and you realise that he likes it a bit rougher than you’d been with him.

“You’re not gonna break him,” Geto encourages you, mirthful even in the quiet tone of his voice, and it bolsters your confidence to wrap your hand a little bit tighter around the girth of his throbbing cock of your own volition. Choso moans prettily into the hem of his t-shirt, his hips lifting up off the bed.

“I don’t think poor Choso’s gonna last much longer, are you gonna help him cum?” Suguru murmurs into your mouth, and your foggy gaze slides over to the young man in question, writhing on the bed as Geto grips him even tighter on an upstroke with his hand still clasped over yours.

“Mmmhmm,” you agree, and Geto smiles into one last kiss before pulling away.

You get back down on your hands and knees between Choso’s parted thighs, continuing to stroke him with the same intensity that Geto had set. He’s slick not only with your saliva but the liberal amount of precum beading at his slit now and dribbling down his length, and the bitter taste blooms across your tongue as you lick a long stripe from the base to the top. He whimpers as you press the very tip of your tongue just underneath the sensitive head.

“You gonna cum in her mouth or on her face, Kamo?” Sukuna drawls from his seat across the room, and the reminder that he’s still there—still waiting for his turn—makes your thighs press together as your pussy gives a needy throb. “She looks good both ways.”

Choso finally lets the sopping hem of his t-shirt slip from between his teeth, staring down at you with shiny lips and flushed cheeks as his chest heaves.

“Mouth?” he asks raggedly, forming the request like a question—like he’d let you say no. You smile softly.

You like how sweet Choso is with you. How he treats you like you’re delicate.

You stroke his weeping cock once, twice, three times more, and then wrap your lips around him and swallow him as deep as you possibly can.

Choso cums with a beatific moan, his narrow hips jumping up off the creaky mattress of Suguru’s bed. His hands twist into the sheets beside him like he’s trying not to thread them through your hair and hold you flush against him, and you appreciate the courtesy. Once he paints your mouth white, a few hot spurts slipping down your throat, you pull away and make a show of letting your tongue loll out so he can see what’s left of him clinging to it.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, fighting for breath, and you nod—coy and demure like you don’t have a stomach full of his cum.

He cranes up towards you, pressing his lips to yours gently. You kiss him with his cum still in your mouth, his tongue sweeping forward to taste it off you.

“Damn, you might be nastier than I am, Kamo,” Gojo cheers from the other side of the room in absolute delight.

“Fat fuckin’ chance,” Sukuna snorts. 

Choso kisses you until you can’t feel any more of his spend lingering in your mouth, though the salty, bitter taste still faintly remains. Your fingers creep up under his shirt to brush over the warm metal of the barbells pierced through his skin as the two of you explore each other’s mouths. You pinch down gently and it earns you a little groan of pleasure as the tip of his tongue traces against your palate. You kiss him–lazy and messy and gentle–and it feels so good you momentarily forget you have an audience.

“How sweet.” There’s something condescending about the way Geto coos it, patronising even. “So good to our shy little junior.”

You pull away from Choso—a long strand of saliva stretching and breaking between your kiss bruised mouths, remnants of it landing on your chin. Geto’s poised on his knees at the other end of the bed, watching you with a smile that makes his eyes narrow and curve into half-moons. There’s nothing kind about it.

He runs a hand along his still stiff cock as it stands proudly between his legs.

“I’d say that’s enough now, wouldn’t you?”

Choso pulls himself up out of the bed without complaint, his fingertips grazing your chin as he cleans the spit from it for the second time that afternoon—though this time the mess is his, at least in part, instead of only yours.

Once it’s just the two of you left atop the bed, Suguru flips you over and presses your legs back. He kisses up between the valley of your breasts as he slots himself between your legs, dragging the flared head of his cock between your soft, sticky folds. He’s already made you cum once, but he hasn’t yet reached his limit. 

Part of you wonders if he’s been holding off for this.

“Did you put on a condom?” you ask, the thought appearing suddenly and starkly. You hadn’t thought about it before–hadn’t had the presence of mind to do so–but now it seems the only thought rattling around in your hazy, delirious brain.

“Oh, I forgot,” Suguru says, though he doesn’t sound remotely apologetic as he sucks against your pulse-point. You’re sensitive there, and it makes something flutter in your tummy that threatens to distract you from the topic at hand. “That okay? You’re on birth control, aren’t you?”

You nod, because it’s true in part—the latter part specifically. 

You don’t have time to bring up the former issue before Suguru is fucking himself inside of you again—a thrust so hard you slide a little further up the bed. You gasp at the sudden stretch and claw at his back, your nails dragging against the musculature of his shoulder blades as he fucks you down into his mattress. He bites and tugs at your lips, kissing you meanly, his hips jackhammering as he chases the release he’s denied himself up until this point. 

His dark hair falls completely out of the knot it had only loosely been holding onto, falling in a curtain around both of your faces. For a moment it’s just the two of you. Laboured breaths. Skin on skin.

Suguru swallows your needy mewls with his esurient mouth, drool spilling down your chin with how messily he’s kissing you. 

“Take it, take it,” he rasps, a fissure crackling through his carefully maintained composure as he nears the end of his fraying rope. “Show them all how you were made to take my fucking cock, baby.” 

Your thighs shake where they’re pressed up to your waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh behind your knees as he pushes them even higher up. He uses his grip as leverage to swing his hips down even harder against your own, your jaw going slack on a wordless wail.

Suguru watches the way his cock is carving into you for a few thrusts more, and then he snaps–burying his face in the crook of your neck and clamping his teeth down viciously at the juncture where your throat slopes into your shoulder.

Your back bows off the bed and you scream at the exact same moment that Suguru pitches over the edge, your nails clawing down his back blindly as he stuffs you full with rope after rope of hot, sticky cum—fucking you through his peak with lazy, arrhythmic thrusts that grow sloppier with every throb of his spent cock buried inside of you.

You collapse back onto his bed, boneless and aching. You don’t even know what you feel, how you feel. It’s all just a bit too much to sort through in your addled mind, dulled to an incoherent cacophony of sensations all fighting for attention you don’t have the wits to give them. It’s all out of focus, warped beyond comprehension and only partially due to your inebriation.

Suguru slumps on top of you, your chests meeting. You smell his conditioner again. Familiar. Nice. He’s heavy, but you almost welcome it–it distracts you momentarily from the throbbing in your neck.

“C’mon, Suguru, you almost broke her and now you’re gonna squish her too?” Gojo jeers from the other side of the room, and Suguru laughs as he pushes himself up, the tacky skin of your chests peeling away from each other.

You blink up at him tiredly as he holds himself over you, his dark hair hanging in his eyes. His lips quirk, cupping your face in his hand. It’s tender until it’s not, his fingers pressing into the fat of your cheeks until your lips purse.

“She liked it,” he tosses over his shoulder towards his best friend, sitting up on his knees. He brushes his hair back from his face with one hand, and spreads your quaking thighs with the other. He laughs, his thumb tracing the bitemark Satoru had left for you there, watching the way his cum drips out of you as you clench weakly around nothing. “At least this part of her did.”

You reach up to hide your face under your hands, letting out a plaintive little sound as your cheeks burn. You feel the bed shift as Suguru gets up.

“What are you being shy about now?”

You pry your hands off your face and let your heavy eyelids flit open, though it takes a concerted amount of effort, only to see Sukuna standing above you with a brow quirked. He perches himself on the edge of the bed and swipes a warm, calloused hand over your tearstained cheek.

“You look out of it.”

“Kuna,” you murmur weakly, pouting. You’re grateful to see him in spite of his snark, and when you nuzzle your nose into his rough palm he chuckles. There’s something comforting about his presence, though you may be the only person on earth to ever think that.

“Still got one more in you? For me?” he asks, running his thumbnail–painted black though the polish has long begun to chip–along the edge of your bottom lip.

You nod. 

Sukuna kisses you even though you’re messy, crawling over you on Suguru’s rumpled bedspread. He pulls off his t-shirt and kicks his sweatpants and boxers gracelessly off the end of the bed to deal with later. 

Your body feels funny, like it’s yours but not quite. Tangible and yet somehow shapeless—given form only in the way that Sukuna’s hands trace it.

The tip of his cock catches on your puffy, slick hole, and you wince.

“Sensitive,” you murmur against his mouth, wriggling underneath him in discomfort, and he nods because he knows.

It always surprises you how gentle Sukuna is as he eases inside, and this time is no different. Your head spins at the familiar, toe-curling stretch, and he curses lightly as he seats himself balls-deep inside of you.

“Best pussy on campus, I swear,” he groans against your stinging lips, squeezing your tits which he has cupped in each hand appreciatively. 

He pulls out slowly, making sure you feel every curve and ridge of him as he withdraws—like he wants you to feel how empty he’s leaving you before he’s bullying his way back inside of you again. He begins to rut into you in slow, agonizing strokes, all with near impossible accuracy. The pace he fucks you at is deep and unhurried, just like he’s had practice to know you like it.

Sukuna links your fingers together as he presses both of your hands up over your head.

“Feeling good?” Sukuna laughs against your clumsy tongue, seeing the way your eyes are crossed and barely open. 

You nod, beyond the point of saying anything that isn’t his name as your fingers tighten minutely around his own.

“Fuck, you sound sloppy,” he breathes and you whine, your legs squeezing around his waist in warning. He clicks his tongue at your indignant little sound, but he’s still indulgent as he fucks into you–careful and slow. “Y’know I like you like this.”

Sukuna frees his hands from yours so he can pry your legs from their cage around him, pressing them back into the mattress so your knees are butterflied apart. Your fingers tangle into the hair at the nape of his neck as the bed shakes–the rickety old frame rattling as it knocks against the dorm wall when his hips pick up the pace, the rhythm of his thrusts building in speed.

“Gettin’ pretty tight,” he grunts, his voice more strained now than it had been only a moment prior. “You wanna cum?”  

You nod frantically, tears of exertion welling in your eyes.

“Gonna, hnn haa–Kuna, I’m gonna–!“

He hums, understanding your garbled pleas even though they never take shape into anything articulate. He presses down on the bottom of your stomach with one hand, an almost blinding pressure panging in your core. 

“Let go for me then, princess.”

It all goes white.

“Oh fuck, did you guys see that?” 

You fight to gather your bearings as your pulse pounds viciously under your tongue. Your head rolls to the side in Suguru’s bed, a tear dripping down towards your temple, only to see Gojo staring at you in wide-eyed astonishment, his sucker hanging out of his mouth. 

What does he have his phone out for?

The bed is still knocking noisily against the dorm room wall, but it’s surprisingly well in-time with the beat of the music that’s playing. 

It smells like sex, and sweat, and weed.

And everything is so, so wet. 

Your eyes flicker down your body towards Sukuna. It’s slick along the bottom of his tensed abs and both of your thighs; dripping down your skin and seeping into the duvet on Suguru’s bed. 

Oh.

Oh.

You’re not even sure if you properly came or not, but everything is light and heavy at the same time, torturous and divine. Your walls flutter around Sukuna’s cock all the same, and it leaves him stumbling over his words.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his hips slamming down into yours. “So. F-fucking. Messy.”

He yanks you up into his arms, bouncing you on his cock as your arms wind themselves weakly around his neck. You have no strength in your grip, but he holds you tight. The loud lewd slap of skin on skin fills the room as he pummels into you relentlessly.

“Fuck, fuck.” Sukuna thrusts up into you one last time as he cums, holding you down at the same time that he humps against your ass–his hips twitching as his cock gives a heavy throb buried inside of you. You feel hot and almost uncomfortably full; spend drips filthily out of your cunt around the base of his cock, though you can no longer tell what’s his, yours or Geto’s anymore.

It’s a finish befitting the show that you’d promised.

Sukuna sets you down gently, grunting slightly as his flagging cock slips out from the vice of your cunt. He rearranges your legs into a more comfortable position, and with a final affectionate pat on your ass, he stands from the bed.

Gojo whistles appreciatively as you recuperate, tucking his phone back into his pocket and shooting you a wink as your tired eyes flicker over to him. His glossy lips wrap around his lollipop, pushing the candy from one side of his mouth to the other with his tongue, as he watches you fight to keep your eyes open.

You lose the battle against your fluttering eyelids quickly, your vision going dark.

“Didn’t know she could squirt,” you hear Suguru say icily—but he sounds far away, like you’re overhearing the conversation from underwater.

Gentle hands ease your aching body up off of the bed, and something soft is wrapped around your shoulders. You burrow into it, eyelids fluttering but never quite lifting, as someone slips into place behind you, propping you up against their warm chest. You rest slack in their hold.

Your eyes peel open to see Sukuna pulling on his shirt on the other side of the room, his shoulder blades flexing as he lifts the tee up and tugs it over his head. He laughs, but it’s not a particularly friendly sound, as his head pops out through the neck hole. He claps a hand on Suguru’s shoulder, who stands beside him with his arms crossed over his chest. The gesture is fraught with tension.

Sukuna shows a sharp, smug flash of teeth. 

“Yeah,” he says, “and she lets me fuck her ass, too.”

The corner of Suguru’s nose twitches like he’s trying not to sneer.

You let your eyes close once more, though if you had the energy you’d be rolling them.

There’s a sudden knock at the boys' dorm room door. 

It’s a single rap. Sharp. Irritated.

They don’t even bother trying to hide the weed, Sukuna—brazen as he is—actually tucks an unlit joint behind his ear as he kicks the towel away and pulls open the door.

“Yeah, what?” he asks the unsuspecting knocker brusquely, leaning indolently against the doorframe on one arm.

A tut of admonishment comes from the other side of Sukuna’s frame, followed by a beleaguered sigh.

“Do you guys mind? Some people in this building are trying to study while you’re in here—”

The familiar voice falters to a stop. 

Sukuna laughs, nudging open the door a little bit wider so that the man on the other side can get a better view at what exactly it is that’s caught his attention.

Nanami’s eyes widen as he takes in the scene before him. You’re only half-conscious sprawled across Suguru's bed, naked save for Choso’s unzipped hoodie wrapped around you. Your head rests against the aforementioned man’s chest as he quietly strokes your side, trying to get you to take a drink from the room temperature bottle of water in his hand– though you’re more preoccupied with playing with his long, elegant fingers wrapped around it.

“Hi Ken,” you giggle weakly as your head lolls in his direction, perking up at his unexpected appearance. 

Choso sets the bottle aside on Geto’s bedside table and holds your waist carefully as you push yourself up, like he doesn’t quite trust the way your limbs wobble underneath you as you shuffle towards the end of the bed near the door. You lean towards the two men in the doorway on your hands and knees, the hoodie on your frame falling open.

Kento swallows, not sure where to look, and the tips of his ears go pink.

You sit back on your haunches, knees parted, and you feel the slow ooze of cum as it drips out onto Suguru’s stained bedspread between your legs. You smile at him dazedly, titling your head to the side so the imprint of Geto’s teeth are on full display on the side of your marked up throat.

“Is it your turn now?”

[cosmicstarlatte]

Pumpkin Carving (Obey Me!)

The guys want to try out pumpkin carving. How does it go?🎃

»Characters: Demon Bros+Dia, brief side characters as judges »Tags: Humor/Fluff, Bulleted Fic »Notes: Part of OM! Flufftober 2023 // reblogs are always loved & appreciated :3 // halloween divider by saradika!

Lucifer: The Show Off™️

Decided to go for an intricate design for his pumpkin

He worked carefully & put his entire lucifussy in it

It was beautiful watching him work his magic he looked like he was creating a symphony

However his pumpkin looked like mush in the end

Everyone laughed. Everyone. Satan & Belphie the hardest.

Solomon: "...it looks great Lucifer. I can see the hard work you-"

"Don't patronize me."

Mammon: Macaroni Art Vibes™️

Complained saying the whole thing was lame but he got really into it

"Heh, look at the little guy!"

It actually looked really cute for his first pumpkin, it had a simple silly face!

Took photos with it only because "it's the type of thing you're suppose to do!"

The judges liked his very much & he came in 3rd place🙂

"...Ya so where's my reward!?"

Levi: Limited Edition Collector's Item 2023: Akuzon Fall Exclusive™️

Geeked out because he always wanted to carve a pumpkin! JUST LIKE ANIMES!

Of course he had a ruri chan stencil already made, he was waiting for this day

His pumpkin actually looked really good & made with love! He even added glowsticks to it!

However dun dun dun, tragedy struck!

He dropped it before he could show the judges

Poor baby cried his eyes out & you guys had to buy him his favorite milk tea

Satan: The Smashing Pumpkins™️ (please don't sue me, thanks!!!)

A little too good with a knife

Made the best intricate design out of everyone, it wowed the judges (& pissed off Lucifer)

Then he started punching & smashing it, completely obliterating it

Beel tried to eat the flying pieces that flew into the air

Delicately placed a pretty candle on top of the mush as the finishing touch

Solomon: "...You know what I like it."

He came in 2nd place!

Asmo: Bedazzled & Bright™️

"It screams 'I AM the now' you know!?"

I mean, he added jewels & even a mini light up disco ball inside

He carved his face into it & it projected his face onto a wall

some say they saw it reflect on the night sky like a hero signal

Was Luke's favorite because it looked fun & bright!

Note: his pumpkin got stolen off the HOL porch during the night.

Beel: Frankenstein Era™️

I know what you're thinking & no he didn't eat it 😐

(Everyone made sure he was well fed before doing the group activity)

His pumpkin looked the silliest, he added mini pumpkins to it & stacked them

Solomon: "What do you think would happen if we brought that thing to life?"

Barb: "Don't."

He did snack on the few pumpkin pieces that got carved out

...OK yeah he ate it all in the end but that was later!!! Leave him alone! He tried so hard!!!

Belphie: BANKSY™️

Didn't really want to participate but whatever brother Lucifer says, goes.

While everyone carved & decorated their pumpkin, he just napped on his like a pillow

Lucifer scolded him for doing nothing to his pumpkin

Belphie challenged him saying it was a work of art & up to interpretation

The judges 'ooo & ahh'd'

His pumpkin came in 1st place

LuciferGrindingHisTeeth.jpg

It's possible Lucifer chucked the pumpkin into oblivion when no one was looking

Diavolo: THE Pumpkin Face™️

"You can't beat the classics!"

Wanted to do a classic pumpkin face to keep human tradition! He appreciates human culture!

He took his time, stenciling was fun & cutting was a little rough

It got a little messy but he enjoyed it

The pumpkin ended up being a thing of nightmares but no one had the heart to tell him

(Barbatos cringing in the background)

Luke fainted at the sight. Dia naively took it as a sweet compliment

⬦You might also like: Costume Shopping Coconut︱Waffle House︱

[dayfalwastaken]

Notable Slenderman designs from over the years

Something Awful: As the users of the original Create Paranormal Images thread took to calling him, "Poo Poo", the first Slendy on this list is sort of a composite variant of his first depictions. After Victor Surge had made "the Slender Man" people started creating their own photos and a couple even drew him. Designs varied, but many featured arms that turned into tentacles or tree branches, and blank faces with either few or very pronounced facial features. These first drawings gave me the impression that Slendy was a creature that attempted to blend in and look human, but if examined its nonhuman aspects would become apparent almost immediately, empty face notwithstanding. As such, while his suit gives the impression of a well-dressed man, if one looks at it from a small distance they'll note the lack of buttons, pockets and other such accessories, so in a way the suit is like a second skin as opposed to actual clothes. Merely a disguise.

Marble Hornets: The Operator! Version that got many people into the Slenderman mythos, the Marble Hornets rendition streamlined the many variations of the Something Awful forum into a simple yet iconic design. This guy is very tall, and makes it clear that he's the furthest thing from human. Proportion-wise, his torso is not even half of his total height, while his arms almost reach the ground. Weirdly enough, his hands don't seem to have fingers? And look to be morphed into the suit, though they could be wearing fingerless gloves. He has a straight upper body and shoulders, and in most entries has barely if any shadows on his face to enunciate human features. As in, most of the time his face is completely blank, although there are entries where you can spot the outlines of a nose, mouth and eye sockets.

TribeTwelve: To me, the Administrator is a more grounded (heh) Slenderman. If you ignore the times he's shown to tower over humans, this guy, while tall, isn't abnormally long. He even has human-looking skin and visible eye sockets! With regular proportions for a Slenderman depiction, he's pretty tame in appearance when he doesn't have his tentacles or spider legs out. So really, he's just a regular man in black with no face, which makes him a bit more believable but still creepy as all hell.

DarkHarvest00: Gorr'rylaehotep! This dude's like a streamlined version of the Marble Hornets Operator, which was himself a streamlined Slendy. He's like an expected evolution of a live action Slenderman, where his body isn't elongated so much as it's scaled up for him to appear larger. That said, he's in no way thick, being quite thin for a big guy in a business suit. Luckily, that doesn't take away from his scare factor, as he's remains an imposing figure throughout the series... In the shots where he doesn't move too much, that is… Having fewer overall appearances in DarkHarvest00, he's also the most consistent Slendy on this list to keep a totally blank face with no features. Neato!

Slender: the Arrival: This guy isn't slender. Like, at all. He's well-built for a Slenderman and, dare I say, kind of muscular-looking. If you shorten his arms, he's just a big human, but I think that strengthens the unease you have when you see him. The others, aside from the TribeTwelve design, don't really hide their uncannyness. Once you’ve spotted them, you know there's something wrong when you look at them. The Arrival Slenderman takes it a step further. He gets all up in your face, not even stalking you all that much. He almost refuses to blend into the background, opting to terrorize you up close. He doesn't obscure the fact that he's an otherworldy entity that shouldn't exist, and I think that's great. His ragged skin and ears melted into his skull offer him an incredibly distinct look, and given how well the game uses him, he's super scary to play against. He's also among the first Slendermen to feature a red tie, which will go on to be a very popular design choice when depicting this character.

The ways people chose to draw/show/model Slendy have always intrigued me, so I made this lil thing to show off the differences in a few designs over the past decade! I hope you've enjoyed reading through this, and I'll see you next time when I'll draw and analyse five more. Have a good day!

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Hey, Lance.” A taunting laugh, smirk audible in his voice. “I got your lion back.”

He’s so smug he’s dripping with it, truly. If satisfaction was a person he would be the one and only Keith Gyeong, prodigy pilot extraordinaire.

He did, however, go out of his way to get Lance’s lion back for him. So.

“Thank you, Keith,” Lance says, injecting as much sincerity into his voice as he can muster. He’s well aware he’s still at a disadvantage here, and he knows Keith is his best shot for help (he would literally rather die than ask Shiro, Pidge would take twelve thousand photos and hoard them over his head for eternity, Hunk has a told-you-so problem, and he doesn’t know the Alteans well enough to take that particular L in front of them). “Now can you come and unchain me?”

Lance is expecting teasing. Duh. That’s the point of this whole rivalry spiel. He is not, however, expecting to be abandoned.

“What’s that? Uh, you’re cutting out, I can’t — I can’t hear you —”

Oh, Lance is going to kill him.

“Come on! I thought we bonded!”

Nothing. Not even static over the comms, which tells Lance that Keith has yet to fucking cut the connection, and is, in fact, being a horrible smug jerk.

A horrible smug jerk that is Lance’s only saving grace, unfortunately.

Man, fuck. Why is Lance expected to be friends with this jerk again?

“Keith?”

Still nothing.

“Buddy?”

Fuck, not even a muffled snigger.

“…My man?”

Is it desperate? Yes. Was the bonding dig also desperate? Yep. Is Lance digging himself into a deeper hole by the minute? Quite probably.

He does that regularly, though. He’ll get out eventually.

Hopefully.

Lance continues to nag a silent Keith through the comms, and then switches to cussing him out, in as many languages as he can (which is a lot. He doubts Keith has ever been called a fart-snorting garbage-guzzler in Gaelic, heh. Ass). He’s hoping to incense Keith enough to get him to fire back and prove that he’s been listening all along, but not too much that he turns around and refuses to help. It’s a delicate balance. Lance is usually very good at it. (Nothing on Earth is funnier than making your older siblings absolutely raging mad and then watching them continue to help you with whatever you ask for. It is, truly, an art form.)

But since Lance was forsaken by the gods the very second he was shot into space, Keith remains absolutely soundless.

And honestly? How dare he.

Muttering to himself, Lance tries to shift into a slightly more comfortable position. Eventually he manages to get his knees under him, chest to the floor, and curves his back to take the pressure off his wrists, which isn’t amazing but is better than before. It’s certainly not easy to do — this handcuff shit is hard. Lance always thought it would be way more fun.

“Well, damn, Sanchez. You sure you even want me to help you? You’re lookin’ pretty comfortable all stretched out.”

Lance yelps loudly, startling at Keith’s drawl. When the hell did he get here? Why didn’t Lance see him arrive in Red?

“Did you seriously use Pidge’s cloaking just to sneak up on me?” he demands.

Keith steps into Lance’s field of vision, smirking up a goddamn storm. He crouches right beside the pole Lance is chained to, reaching out a hand (dodging Lance’s attempt to bite his fingers off) and tilting up his chin.

“‘Course,” he admits, easy as pie. Then his smirk gets wider. “Think I was gonna pass up a chance to see ya all tied up and testy, pretty boy?”

Pretty boy.

Oh, no. Oh no, no, no.

“Fuck,” Lance says, aghast. “Fuck, fuck!”

The sudden expletives startles Keith, a little, and the smug expression drops from his face.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Lance face contorts in panic. “You’re hot! You’re not supposed to be hot! Fuck!”

This is Lance’s own goddamn fault, really, but he would like to take a brief moment to blame both higher powers and the internet at large for making him this way.

The thing is that Lance likes to bug people. He likes to push people’s buttons and run off before they can push his back. Usually, anyway, people don’t want to push his back; they just want to throw shit at him or roll their eyes and walk away.

But Keith?

Of course not. Heaven forbid Keith act like every other human being on the planet — er, well, alien in the universe. No, Keith has absolutely no trouble snapping right back to whatever Lance throws at him. Keith actually plays his game.

And fuck, does Lance love it.

That’s a huge problem. Massive. Lance doesn’t know what to do with someone who indulges him! That’s not the point! The point is for people to get annoyed and for Lance to win by default! He’s not supposed to be the one getting flustered!

“…What,” Keith says flatly. He blinks rapidly at Lance, confusion written all over his face.

There’s a splash of red spreading across his nose.

“Oh, fuck you!” Lance explodes — or, well, as much as he can while he’s still chained to a fucking pole. “Of course you have to be a fuckin’ — smug jackass! And of course you look good doing it! And of fucking course you’re a goddamn country boy!”

And the hole Lance has dug himself gets deeper.

Lance astounds himself, really. He should arrange to have his mouth glued shut.

“This is the worst! It’s one thing if you’re just some guy, but nooooo! Of course you have fucking — crooked incisors and a Southern drawl! Oh, you are the worst, you know that, Gyeong?”

“This is going in a rapidly different direction than I pictured,” Keith manages.

“Oh, picture me tied up and at your mercy a lot, do you?” Lance snaps back.

It’s a reflex, really. Lance says shit like that all the time, because he’s his own target audience. It never does anything but make people roll their eyes at him, and occasionally land him in detention. Hell, he barely even registered that he said it.

But, fascinatingly, the tiny smudge of red over Keith’s nose explodes into a raging blush, from the roots of his hair down his neck.

“There’s no possible way you know that,” Keith says hotly.

Lance’s jaw drops. “No way that I — I didn’t! I wasn’t — bitch, I was joking!”

Keith scowls, flush getting deeper. “Well, what about the shit you said before? You said I’m hot!”

“Yeah, because you fucking are! I’m not — I don’t daydream about you, at least! I don’t have a — a fucking thing for you, though?”

As he says it, Lance knows he’s lying. All of a sudden every single one of Hunk’s raised eyebrows whenever Lance ranted about Keith start to make a lot of sense.

“Bullshit!” Keith argues. “You always stare at me during training, and you pick random fights with me all the time, and yet you sit next to me all the time for no reason! You’re fuckin’ obsessed with me!”

“I —” Lance stops, jaw clicking shut. It is occurring to him, just now, that straight, non-crush-having people don’t generally obsess over one-sided rivalries for five years, and then do everything they can to make that rivalry a reality.

So. An oversight, perhaps.

“There’s a possibility,” Lance concedes, “that my subconscious, without my permission, has perhaps harboured some strange type of feelings for you.”

“Told you,” Keith says faintly. He looks just as lost as Lance does, though, so it significantly lowers the effect.

Lance is gagged. He is, for once in his life, at a complete loss for what to say. What does this even — who comes up with this kind of shit? Who does this? Lance is his own worst enemy, truly. Sorry, Zarkon, but take a seat.

“Lance, dude?” Hunk’s voice, faint and tinny from Lance’s discarded helmet, makes them both jump. “Do you still need rescuing?”

“Fuck, sorry,” Keith mutters, finally springing into action and deactivating the stupid cuffs. Lance scrambles back the second he’s free, rubbing his wrists and avoiding eye contact with Keith while also constantly sneaking glances aren’t him that aren’t at all sneaky because Keith catches him every time.

“So,” Keith says eventually.

Nope. Lance isn’t having this stupid conversation.

Lance throws a random rock at him.

“Hey!” Keith picks it back up and whips it at Lance immediately, only his aim isn’t as good as Lance’s, and also Lance is already diving to grab more rocks, so he misses. Lance starts pelting Keith with the armful of space rocks he’s gathered, each of them no bigger than an ice cube, all of them pinging harmlessly off Keith’s armour.

“Lance — will you — fucking cut that out!”

He lunges forward, shoving Lance to the ground and pinning Lance’s hands above his head. Lance bucks and squirms, trying several of the new maneuvers Shiro taught them to throw Keith off, but unfortunately Keith had also been present at the training in which they learned these manoeuvres and is therefore unaffected.

“I’ll let you up if you stop throwing shit at me.”

“No.”

“Guess you’re stuck, then.”

Lance tries for several more minutes to escape, but Keith remains firmly where he is, pinning Lance down. Lance is eventually forced to stop unless a new problem wants to pop its way up and make things more embarrassing and horrible.

Lance huffs. “Let me up. I promise not to throw more rocks at you.”

Keith squints suspiciously at him. “Are you lying to me?”

“Yes.”

“Well then — no, obviously?”

“C’mon, Keith.”

Lance does what he always does when he’s backed into a corner — he pulls out the brown doe eyes. He furrows his eyebrows, widening his eyes as big as he can and pouting.

“For fuck’s — oh, fine.”

Keith rolls off Lance, grumbling the whole time.

Lance blinks.

That — that worked? All he had to do was ask, barely, bat his eyelashes a little, and Keith just — listened to him?

“Oh my God, we are down bad for each other,” Lance breathes.

Keith looks ready to argue, but then stops himself, sighing.

“Yeah.”

“What are we going to — fuck, what are we going to do?”

Because Lance is not new to crushes. He’s had more of them than he can physically count. But never in his life has he wanted to judo flip someone as badly as he wanted to make out with them. That’s a new development.

“I dunno,” Keith says helplessly. He’s kind of — curled in on himself, face still red, as if he curls into a tight enough ball he can escape the situation. “You’re the plan guy! When you’re not being a dumbass, that is.”

Ignoring the jab, Lance takes a moment to ponder that. He is kind of the plan guy, isn’t he? It’s him who came up with all the Garrison escape plans he dragged Hunk into. It’s him who came up with the elevator shaft idea. Hell, he can quite possibly trace every one of his major life moments to a point where he said ‘hey, I wonder how I can make this work for me.’

Plan guy. Plan guy. He can be the plan guy. That’s all anything is, right? Making decisions and working out how to get there. He’s good at that.

But what decision does he want with Keith? What does he want with Keith, period?

“Step one,” Lance decides, “is that we should make out.”

Keith looks at him in surprise. “That’s step one?”

Lance nods firmly. “Yep. If we make out now, we can figure out all the weird tension shit. Maybe we don’t actually like each other. Maybe we’re just, like, bored.”

Keith looks doubtful, but he makes his way closer anyway.

“I guess so.”

“Yep.”

“So I just — kiss you?”

“Well, we don’t have all day, Mullet.”

Truly, Lance’s heart is pounding. He has no fucking clue how he’s managing to sound even remotely normal. He feels like he might implode.

Hesitantly, Keith reaches for Lance’s face, resting a palm on his cheek. His hand is warm, even through the gloves of their suits. Hot, really; nearly burning. He rests it there for a moment, absentmindedly — or maybe intentionally — rubbing his thumb across Lance’s cheekbone as his eyes trace nervously over Lance’s lips. He leans in close slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world, eyes fluttering shut as his lips get closer and closer to Lance’s. He gets close enough that Lance can see the startling length of his eyelashes, the tiny mole at the corner of his mouth, the chapped skin of his lips.

Lance doesn’t even know how to categorize the sound that comes out of his mouth when their lips finally touch. It’s — breathy; stuttering. Like all the air escapes out of his lungs the second his skin touches Keith’s.

Keith tilts his head a little, sliding their noses together, his free hand coming to rest at Lance’s hip. Lance’s hands move without his permission, sliding up the chest plate of Keith’s armour and over his shoulders, resting finally in his hair, fingers tangling around the thick black strands. He pulls on them slightly, and Keith gets the hint, opening his mouth and pushing closer.

Lance’s heartbeat slows from its jackrabbit pace. He stops focusing on anything except the warmth of Keith’s skin on his, the rhythm of their mouths moving together, the occasional sighs Keith makes at the back of his throat. He forgets where he is, what he’s doing; hell, he forgets his own damn name. The only thing he cares about is pressing closer to Keith, keeping them melded together.

“Well. Obviously you didn’t need saving.”

Lance’s eyes fly open and he shoves Keith backwards with a yelp.

“Hunk! What — where the fuck did you come from?!”

“Yellow is not a quiet machine,” Hunk says drily. “Like, seriously. The fact that you are just now reacting to my presence speaks wonders. I know you’ve liked Keith for a while now, dude, but there’s no way he’s that good of a kisser.”

“Oh my God,” Keith says faintly, and Lance can’t help but agree.

Goddamn. First he’s kissing Keith, now he’s agreeing with him. What’s next? They gonna co-lead Voltron together, or something?

“Let’s just go,” Lance squeaks, scrambling to his feet and desperately avoiding eye contact. He follows a very amused-looking Hunk back to his lion, enduring his painful amount of teasing with a bright red face and a truly herculean amount of self-control, if he’s being honest. The teasing from the rest of the team is almost worse, their ‘Loverboy Lance’ jokes briefly making him panic that everyone knows about the fact that he and fucking Keith Gyeong just made out, somehow, before he remembers that oh yeah, dumbass, you were just tied to a pole for flirting with the a scam artist.

Yeesh. How time fuckin’ flies.

The only consolation to the staggering amount of humiliation is that Keith keeps glancing at Lance, going red, and looking away. So obviously Lance isn’t the only one so affected, which is a relief.

Once everyone has finally gotten their fill of making fun of Lance, Shiro dismisses them, and Lance makes a beeline to his room. He rushes through his skincare routine as quickly as he can, refusing to let himself think about a single thing the entire time.

It doesn’t work. Every single time he catches sight of his own reflection, he’s reminded that his face just spent inordinate amounts of time pressed against Keith’s not even an hour ago. Keith is all he can think about.

Plan. Plan. What’s the plan? Is there a plan?

It is not a surprise when he hears a knock at his door.

“So,” Keith says when Lance opens it, rocking back in his heels. “What’s — uh, what’s step two?”

Lance smiles, allowing himself to feel the giddiness that’s bubbling up his throat, the parts of him that are yelling ‘Keith! Keith Gyeong! He sought me out! He wants to go further! With me!’

“Let’s figure that out together,” Lance says, pulling Keith into the room and shutting the door. “I’m thinking this is going to be more of a two-man operation.”

[ninjaneonleon]

(last seen at the tmnt au comp u _ u )

Mikey almost fell over backwards when the frantic looking Leo counterpart appeared in his vision. Casey, of course, was no help. She just laughed as he stumbled over his own feet and tried not to fall. In the end he just floated back to his feet properly with a small pout.

“Oh, sorry,” the Leo (Leon? Yeah, that worked for now) said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “I just really need to find my Donnie, he’s, uh, not very stable with others.” He held up the photo he was brandishing a little more for emphasis.

The photo in question showed a version of Donnie that was very different to the brother Mikey knew and loved. Not only was he notably paler, his usual jade colouring going almost pastel, he was softer somehow. Rounder. He was also wearing a beautiful feathered tutu, had small white wings and was en pointe. That Donnie looked like he was all set to dance in Swan Lake, maybe even as Odette considering the feathered crown he had in place of a headpiece.

“No, I haven’t seen him. Hey, why do you say he’s unstable?” Casey asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement. Eugh boy, if Casey got it in her head that she wanted to try sparring with this unstable ballerina Donnie, there would be very little Mikey could do besides try to hold her back. Maybe if he got the Donnie back with his Leo, he’d be calm enough to not take Casey up on her obvious excitement.

“He’s, uh, well he’s very much got a swan brain?” Leon offered with a sheepish laugh. “Half the time he’s fine, the other half…”

“Oh, he gets violent and territorial?” Mikey had a few encounters with swans in the past. They were dangerous bastards who can and will mess you up. “Eugh boy, that’s definitely not someone who you want to leave alone. Leave it to me, I can help you find him.”

“Wait, you can?” Leon lit up with a relived grin. “How?”

“Like this.” Mikey held his hand out towards the photo and got a feel for Swanatello’s (heh, Swannie, that was a perfect name for him) energy. Once he as sure, Mikey plucked that very unique feeling chain from the air. He studied it curiously. “Huh. This is a very old feeling connected to him. Well, anyway, I can track him for you. Just follow me, we’ll get your Donnie back,” he promised, not letting go of the chain.

“Thank you so much,” Leon said enthusiastically. I’m worried he’s either gonna freak himself out or hurt someone.”

“Has he got memory problems or something?”Casey asked, following after Leon and Mikey. “Our Donnie can be violent but he’s very good at directing that away from people. Most of the time.” She shuddered, probably remembering the sago pudding incident. Mikey didn’t want to dwell on that.

“Yeah, he’s sort of been claimed by this mystic lake to be its guardian?” Leon offered with a shrug. “It means that he barely remembers anything before, and on his bad days, he doesn’t recognise us at all. He might look small but he’s just as strong as ever.” Based on the way Leon rubbed his arm, he clearly knew just how strong Swannie was.

“Claimed by a mystic lake? I might be able to help keep him calm for a while, if you wanted,” Mikey offered. If he could make sure Swannie could still sense the lake, he might stay calm enough to not hurt anyone during this whole thing.

“Anything would be helpful, thank you Mikey.”

They walked together for a little while, following the pale coloured chain, until Mikey spotted Swannie. He was looking around frantically, his feathers all puffed up from how worked up he was getting. Okay, Mikey totally had this.

“Casey, wait here. Leon, you too. Let me see if I can calm him down.” As he spoke, Mikey let a wave of magic wash over him. When it cleared, he was in his own tutu (orange, of course) and had his pointe shoes on. Oh yeah, that was awesome, he totally nailed the dramatics there. It might have been a while since Mikey had done any serious dancing but luckily, his body remembered exactly what to do.

He called for Swannie’s attention by putting a spotlight on himself and on Swannie, one only they (and Casey and Leon) could see. Then he let some music start to drift around, again, done so it didn’t bother anyone who was want involved.

Swannie looked over immediately, but when he heard the music, he seemed to relax. Perfect. Mikey made his way over, travelling in time to the music and throwing in some of his own choreography, warming himself up slowly. He and Swannie met in the middle and for a moment, they danced together.

It was simple enough to weave in some magic to their dance. A nudge to the mystic hold on Swannie’s soul, finding the link back to the lake, a touch of mental magic in the form of white smoke gathering around them to make sure he could feel the lake and feel it was safe, and tada! One fully conscious and aware Swannatello.

“Mikey?” He asked slowly as Mikey let the illusions die down.

“Not quite. I’m a different Mikey, buuut your Leo is right over there.” Mikey gestured over his shoulder to where Casey and Leon were waiting.

“Leo!” Like a bullet out a gun, Swannie shot over to Leo and clung to him, getting an awed hug in return. Oh yeah, Mikey was good.

“Nice going, Mikey,” Casey said with a grin. She clapped Mikey on the shoulder. “Wanna stick around with these two for a bit?”

“Yeah, if they’ll have us,” Mikey said, watching the twins get quite emotional as they hugged. “I think they could use some familiarity here, and besides, I wanna dance more with Swannie.”

————

@tmntaucompetition

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

How would the characters react(before they get into our world) if teruko from the hunting dogs was the readers favourite character and made it very well known by praising ever scene she's in

Totally not taken from the fact that I do that.

(also I have a completely platonic admiration for her)

Here you go. Hope, you like it.

My favourite (Teruko edition)

Self-Aware! Teruko Okura x GN! Reader

Description: Their Guiding Light have a favourite character. The Vice-Captain of Hunting Dogs.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Soft Yandere.

"Wow! Teruko is in this chapter! Great!"

Teruko felt, how Little Light curled on her head and start purring. Familiar warmth surrounded her. Happiness and respect. Their Guiding Light were glad to see another scene with her in the manga.

Teruko also felt, that other characters were jealous of her. You were openly admiring Teruko. And some characters were jealous because of that.

Of course, it doesn't mean, that you hated other characters. Quite the opposite, they were fond of all of them and have something nice to say about them. But in case of Teruko, you were very vocal about their love for her.

"Heh. Teruko is quite a fun character."

"Teruko's ability is so unique and strong!"

"Teruko is the best BSD character!"

There were some accidents.

For example, Teruko was a little bit nervous. She was afraid, that her more sadistic side would scare you. Especially, after Teruko and Sigma red about their battle in Sky Casino. Would you change your opinion about Teruko? Thankfully, it wasn't the case, and you didn't like Teruko for been violent. When you were discussing BSD with your friends, characters heard your reasons for liking Teruko.

"My favourite BSD Character? Teruko Okura, of course! Why? Well, because she's an interesting character. She is a warrior. A ruthless one. A warrior, who can do terrible things. But for the better cause. Teruko is protecting civilians. She may be sadistic, it's true. But she is not a terrible person. She is a person, who has flaws and who embraced them and use them for the better cause."

Since then, Teruko promised to herself, to do everything in her power, to be the best of your protectors.

Teruko feels happy. Their Guiding Light's love wasn't bad or awful. You really respected her and liked her.

Teruko smiles. Today will be the day she joins the Rare Scout. And your team.

When Ango, Katai and Fyodor hack the app and find a way to add new cards and seasons in game, they start adding cards of the "new" characters.

At first, they add everyone from Season 3. Even this strange French guy, who, Teruko was sure, died many years ago. If Teruko understood Tachihara's report clearly, others made a leap of faith and add the photo of stage French guy into the Rare Scout as new card. Somehow, it brought him back to life. Completely normal and not harmed.

After characters finished with Season 3, they moved to Season 4.

Now, they were in the process of adding Hunting Dogs cards.

Today, it's Teruko's turn. She braced herself.

Today you will get new card. SSR Card [Gasp of the Soul] Teruko Okura.

The purple moon shined above Yokohama.

"Oh! New SSR! Who I got this time?"

"..."

"YO! Teruko's card! It's so pretty, it's so cool! Let's level you up, let's test you! Best day ever! Best scoot ever!"

Little Light was circling around Teruko, purring.

Teruko felt so much happiness. You really were happy to get her card. Teruko grinned. She needs to send you a few notes later.

Teruko herd Jounou's scoffing.

"You are a lucky one, Teruko. Been Our Guiding Light's Favourite. Are you sure, you would carry your duty as one of your guardians, when we finally met them?"

Teruko only hums in return.

"Keep your jealousy for yourself, Jounou. Of course, I would. I won't do my job poorly. Moreover, I would try even more now. I can't let them down. No matter what, I will protect them."

Teruko Okura looked at the window. Right at the fake sky.

"They are counting on me."

_______

Earlier today, you got another note in the Gift Box.

"[Y/N], I am so glad to finally be a part of your team! I promise, that from now on I will protect you. Hope, that one day, we will become friends. Teruko Okura"

You laughed.

"I would be so happy to become friends with you, Teruko."

Teruko Okura smiles again. She also, would be happy.

[avatarmerida]

Um idk what to say about this except Hunter deserves to receive more compliments and Amity has never known how to process Willow’s taste in men

-

“Okay guys, just gimme like 10 minutes, okay?” Willow said, running eagerly ahead. “I just wanna check on my plants real quick. I’m sure they’re okay but I just wanna be totally sure because I-.”

“Go on, we’ll be fine!” Said Amity, seeing Willow was slowing herself down for their sake but desperately wanted to run ahead. Willow didn’t need to be told twice as she darted full speed up the stairs to her room. From the sound of it, her plants were just fine and delighted to see her. As they headed back to the Owl House, Willow’s house was on the way and when she had asked if they could make a quick pit stop Camila saw nothing wrong so long as they were quick and stayed together.

Hunter smiled at the distant sound of Willow happily greeting her plants as he looked around the living room, suddenly aware that it looked stuck in time. A few months ago it was brimming with life and light, and now it was dark and cold without Willow and her dads gracing the rooms with their love and laughter.

“Hey, what are these?” Hunter asked, turning to the dining room table which was covered in glossy brightly colored books.

“Oh, those are just some silly magazines Willow and I used to read when we’d do our homework,” said Amity as she walked in from the kitchen, the vibrant colors reminding her of a less chaotic time. “We would fill out the quizzes inside and gush about these bard coven bands and argue over who our favorite was.”

“Really? Heh.” Hunter flipped through the pages with a quizzical smirk, remembering Willow had once mentioned listening to a band once while they were messaging on penstagram back when they had first met. “Who was Willow’s favorite?”

“Take a guess.”

“Probably the most handsome one, right?” He said pointing to the obvious front man whose face was featured much more than the other members in the collection of mini posters that occupied the series of pages.

“Uh, not exactly,” said Amity, pointing to the corner to the “mysterious loner” of the group. His smile was more reserved than the others and his overall demeanor carried something... familiar.

“Him? Really?” Hunter chuckled, swearing he saw imprints of faded green lipstick stains near his photo. He wondered just how long they had been fading.

“I dunno, Willow has... unique taste.” Amity said with a shrug and slightly soured look. “We very rarely agree on things like that. I mean, she does not get Azura like at all, which just doesn’t make sense if I’m being honest, because I think...”

As Amity continued ranting, Hunter flipped through the pages and read the silly answers written in Willow’s bubbly handwriting, each ‘I’ dotted with a flower and the words twirling at the end as though they were carefully arranged vines. He treated her circled answers like a treasured artifact, admiring the little hearts and daisies she doodled in the corner of the pages. He also couldn’t help but want to take the silly quiz himself and see if their answers matched.

“...but I guess disagreeing can inspire debates. I mean, like the other day I was telling her how when I first met you I called you scrawny and that practically set her off because when she first met you she thought you were sooo cute, so obviously we don’t-.”

“She thought I was cute?” Hunter repeated, tuning back into Amity's rambling.

“Huh? Oh.” Amity’s hand sprang to her mouth, quickly realizing she should not have said that. “Uh maybe? Ya know, ha, it was so long ago, I might be misremembering. Actually, she might have been talking about a wet cat she saw on her way to school so actually-.”

“You just said you were talking about it yesterday.”

“Did I say that? You know, it was so long ago who can really remember what I said, we should-.”

“Amity, if you’re gonna make fun of me could you at least not use Willow? I don’t know why you’d think-.”

“I’m not making fun of you! I just, uh...” Amity insisted, quickly looking back at the staircase to make sure Willow wasn’t coming back yet. She changed her voice to a harsh whisper. “Ugh, okay listen, Willow would kill me if she knew I told you this but... do you remember before Halloween when I told you to change out of your costume?”

“Yeah?”

“She was actually really upset that I said that because she thought that you looked... handsome.”

Now THAT is a look

“Me?” Hunter asked as though there was someone else she could’ve been referring to.

DON’T listen to her.

“Yeah?” Amity replied, still unable to give a reason. “I mean, she was so mad at me for telling you to change, she threatened to summon a cactus to my bus seat before I sat down.” Amity laughed at the memory, knowing Willow was only a little serious about following through. “And she stared at the photo she took of you like the entire ride, like you were a magazine model or something.”

“She thought I looked... handsome? In my costume? Like the costume I’m wearing right now?”

“Shh! Yes, but you can’t tell her I told you,” said Amity, looking around paranoid. “I wouldn’t lie about that though, I promise.”

Hunter made his way into the living room, finding his reflection for the first time in a hall mirror. It was dusty but still he could see the difference from the last time he had seen his own face. There was a lot to process. Days ago he looked completely different and now it was though he had suddenly aged, he was tired and dirty and covered with scars.

“Do you think... she still thinks I look handsome in it?” He said, his hand tracing his newest scar.  “Ya know, with how... different I look?”

“Well,” Amity started, knowing there was more within the inquiry. “She also talked about how much she liked you, ya know? The way you talk, what you talk about-

“She never mentioned my voice being... annoying?”

“No, actually,” Amity said, realizing Willow was probably the only person she had never heard refer to it in such a way, even as a joke. “Which is saying something because she used to always say that having bad eyesight made her hearing better,” Amity recalled. “I don’t know if that’s true or not but Even when you wore those hideous shoes with the holes all over them she still thought you were so cool... for some reason.”

Handsome AND cool? It seemed too good to be true.

“Does she... talk about me a lot?”

“Ya know, if you really wanna know what Willow thinks about you then you should ask her,” said Amity softly, putting her hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “But don’t tell her you talked to me, otherwise she’ll get suspicious.”

“But has she said anything about... the way I look now?”

“Oh no, you’re not getting any more information from me!” said Amity dramatically, walking back to the kitchen table. “I’ve said too much already, if she ever found out that I said any of this I’d have more than a cactus to worry about.”

“But why wouldn’t she want me to know? Is she embarrassed?”

“Well I dunno, do you tell Willow you think she looks nice every time you think she looks nice?”

Hunter opened his mouth to offer a smug response before he realized that while he did in fact let Willow know she looked nice it was usually agreeing with someone. She would walk down to the basement to show off a new dress she had found while thrift shopping with Vee and wanted to show how nicely it complimented the cardigan Hunter had repaired for her and Hunter would be in awe of how she always managed to pick colors that brought out her eyes. He would think how lovely, how stunning, how utterly beautiful she looked but he never said these words.

Instead, Gus would usually deliver the compliment. He’d say “Wow, Willow you look great!” and then nudge Hunter in the ribs with his elbow as he’d raise an eyebrow and say “Doesn’t she Hunter?” Willow would look at him with anticipating eyes for his thoughts, but the sparkle that found her eyes with her expectations only increased the things to say, and Hunter would end up only being able to nod in agreement or mumble a simple “yes.”

Is that how he made Willow feel? How could he ever...?

“Fair point,” He cleared his throat and tried not to convey the journey his mind was on and hoping he seemed like he was totally normal about the question. “Thank you for your clarification, I shall keep the matter between us.”

“You’re not gonna act... weird about this are you?” Amity asked, fairly certain she already knew the answer.

“Me? Weird? No! W-w-why would I be weird about this?” Hunter sputtered nervously.

Oh, she definitely already knew the answer.

“Okay, well I hear her coming back so zip it,” ordered Amity. “If I wake up with a cactus in my sleeping bag, I’m taking you down with me, spaceman.”

Hunter wouldn't know how to bring it up even if he wanted to.

“Sorry it took so long,” said Willow, entering the room on a vine. “But they’re doing great, luckily the automatic water system I instilled has been working perfectly.”

“That’s great, Willow.” said Amity with a smile.

“Yeah that’s totally great!” agreed Hunter, his voice sounding panicked for no apparent reason. “Awesome! Cool! Yeah...”

“Yeah,” agreed Willow, confused by the room’s vibe. “But uh, we should probably get back to the others. I don’t want Camila to worry.”

“Oh yeah, good idea,” agreed Hunter.

“Oh, before I forget,” said Willow, pulling something off her wrist. “I found this yellow scrunchie in my room and I thought since your hair is longer again, you could use it to keep your hair out of your eyes.”

“Really?” he said, as she slipped the hair tie onto his wrist. “Thanks, Willow.”

“’Course,” she said with a smile. “It’s your color, after all. Plus we gotta make sure we can see that pretty face of yours.” She added with a wink.

“Haha yeah o-o-okay,” he said with a gulp. “I should uh, g-g-go check if the coast is clear.”

He ran ahead as Willow chucked to herself, clearly pleased with his reaction. She watched as he ran to the doorway and pulled his hair back into a ponytail and secured it with Willow’s scrunchie.

“Woah, did it just get hotter in here?” Willow whispered to Amity, a faint crimson gracing her cheeks as she watched fondly as he scanned the outside area, his pulled back hair making it easier for her to see his defined jawline. Before Amity could offer her comment on the change in temperature, Willow cut her off as she continued in a dreamy tone. “Never mind, I think it’s just Hunter. If ya know what I mean.” she added playfully, bumping Amity’s arm with her elbow.

“I really, reeeally don't,” groaned Amity as though she was in physical pain, having endured this talk for months in the human realm and now realizing that there was no end in sight. “You have got to stop saying things that to me I am begging you!” Amity pleaded.

“I’ll stop when he stops,” said Willow with a shrug, fanning herself with her hand for emphasis (half to upset Amity further and half because she was truly grateful she had found that scrunchie).

[itjazzbicch]

Will You Be Mine?

Pairing:  Fuegoleon Vermillion x Fem Reader 

Summary: Being long-time friends with both Fuegoleon and Nozel, the reader catches the friends/rivals arguing about something they brushed aside, later learning during a royal banquet that the argument involved her...

Warnings: Just fluff! (There is also a photo of a dress that the reader wears!)

Word Count: 1.7k 

"Heh, I find that funny, Fuegoleon."

"And why is that so funny, Nozel?"

Now, I've known for a long time that Fuegoleon and Nozel were friends, but rivals, bickering with one another, yet again.

Making my way over, they were so busy arguing over whatever that they didn't notice me coming up behind them, plucking the back of their heads:

"The royal banquet is today, don't the two of you know? Don't you think that you have better things to do rather than stand around and argue?"

"My apologies," Fuego said first, rubbing the back of his head and suddenly, they both grew quiet, turning away from one another when I asked:

"What are you two arguing about this time, anyways?"

"Nothing," Nozel answered quietly, unable to hide the redness in his cheeks, as well as Fuego, who answered:

"Yes. It was nothing."

"You're both terrible liars," I huffed, rolling my eyes, accepting their answers for now, and changing the subject, "So, you two taking anyone to the banquet?"

"Uhhh-," They both were stuttering at the same time, Nozel being the first to think of something:

"You'll just have to wait and see. Speaking of, I'm going to get ready for the banquet."

"As am I!" Fuego answered, flashing a quick smile before they both ran off, "We'll see you later tonight, Y/N."

"Okay, see you guys," I waved softly, waiting for them to disappear before I said to myself, "Well, that was really weird."

I figured there was no point in worrying about their bickering and so, much like Nozel, I went off to get ready for the banquet.

Deciding to keep my hair down, add some light makeup, and finally get to wear the dress I picked out. I'd been dying to wear it since I laid eyes on it and when I made my way inside the royal castle, I'd never felt so nervous.

"My, you look so beautiful, Captain Y/N..."

Having all eyes on me in a new way made me a bit anxious, but a small smile on my face as I did appreciate all the compliments.

Making my way through, I felt some relief as I spotted Nozel and Fuego by the stairs, coming over and teasing:

"Were you two being so weird earlier because you two don't have dates?"

I only laughed as their faces turned pink, but freezing as Nozel stood alongside me.

"Never mind that," On my side, he helped me with the longer part of my dress so I could head up the stairs, saying more softly to me, "You look stunning, Y/N. Shall we head in?"

"S-Sure," I blushed, "And thank you, Nozel."

"Of course," Heading up the first few steps, I noticed Fuego on my other side too, helping with my dress and offering to me:

"Shall we have a glass of wine when everything begins? It is a tradition of ours now."

I could never say no to his smile, nodding and stepping inside with them, "Can never break that tradition."

The three of us together always ended up being a fun time, getting our wine, making a toast to a good evening and that's exactly what it was. Dinner was delicious, I also got to see some other friends of mine and it was nothing short of spectacular.

The moonlight and stars were beginning to illuminate the dance floor, countless couples and friends enjoying their own dances.

At that moment, I was still chatting with a friend, not noticing what was coming my way till my friend tapped my shoulder, holding her mouth and giggling at my flustered face once I saw Fuego making his way over with a rose.

"That's all on you," She teased, leaving once Fuego approached me.

I couldn't stand looking stupid like I felt I was, trying to make small talk, "Are you enjoying the banquet? Sorry for leaving you and Nozel-"

"You're fine, dear," He smiled, his voice making my heart flutter, skipping beats as he continued, "I was just wondering if you would like to make my night even better and dance with me."

Offering the rose, I caressed his hand while accepting, holding his free hand with the other, "A dance with you would be lovely, Fue."

Holding hands, we made our way to the dance floor, I was always locked into the beautiful purple of his eyes, my body flowing naturally with him as we began to dance. The sound of the piano and violins was the guide for me.

Only able to focus on him and the music, a bright smile began to break out on my face, giggling during some twirls, but losing my breath when he dipped me down quickly, noses almost touching.

My quick breaths caught his attention, his pupils expanding a little with his words, "I'm sorry if that startled you."

"Just a little," I chuckled, fixing our postures and once I was standing straight, I rested my head on his chest. He was so warm, arms keeping me close as we began to sway, smiling once again, "I'm still having such a good time."

"As am I," He cooed, kissing the top of my head, making my world pause.

I was seeing a new side of Fuego tonight and after processing that small kiss, I picked my head to lock eyes again, but his eyes were fixed on something else.

The smirk on his face too, was confident, but not in a good way in my eyes. Following the direction he was staring in, I found Nozel in a corner, arms crossed, with a mean look on his face as he watched us.

Taking a moment to think, I thought of their argument earlier in the day, and how they acted so weird around me. Now, dancing with Fuego and they're still exchanging dirty looks across the room?

Stepping back, it all made sense in my head and it sparked some anger, Fuego noticing quickly:

"Is everything alright, Y/N?"

"I need a moment to myself," Clenching the rose that I still had, I turned my nose at him and marched away, making sure to quickly disappear from his sight with all the bodies on the floor.

Heading up another flight of stairs in the castle, I found a nice balcony where I could barely hear the music. At least the night sky wasn't disappointing, staring at the stars and thinking to myself.

Nozel and Fuego were fighting over me and Fuego decided to make a truly romantic moment into some kind of challenge?

I was ready to throw the rose that he gave me, raising my arm, but stopping at the sound of footsteps:

"Y/N? What's the matter? I figured I'd come and check on you."

Of course, Fue had to come after me.

With my hands finding my hips, I was as stern as I was while scolding my squad when needed, looking him dead in the eye and asking if my assumption was true:

"Did you ask to dance with me and nearly kiss me just to poke at Nozel? Be honest."

Letting out a deep sigh, he was thinking of how to answer my question, beginning:

"There's no point in lying, we had been arguing because we both wanted to ask you to the banquet. That is true."

"And the dance?" I wanted nothing but the truth, showing him how I was paying close attention during our dance, letting out some emotion, "I saw you shooting looks at him. I hope you know that I'm not just some prize that you win for playing some game-"

"No, you're not," He said quickly, coming and taking my hands, "But if there are others who want you, I would like to be the one who wins your heart."

This time, I had nothing to say. Our tight bond was undeniable and I wish I had noticed the motive for their weird behavior sooner, but I decided to stay quiet, listening to what he had to say:

"I will admit, how we went about the ordeal was immature. I should've just grown the courage to come and ask you. So now, I will be brave and ask you."

"Ask me, what?" I whispered, the light breeze behind me mixing with anxious anticipation made me shake some, especially when he asked:

"Will you be mine, Y/N?"

Gosh, did he make me weak, but I didn't want to fall so easily. I wanted to see if he'd prove his words to be true to the heart, offering my hand:

"Prove your words to be true with one last dance. Just you and me."

"I'd be more than happy to," He smiled, truly confident this time, which made my heart fill a little lighter.

The music from downstairs was faint, but just enough as began to dance under the stars, and this time, I noticed how much smoother he was moving, focusing his entire being into this moment, and it was the most beautiful moment I had shared with someone.

Gradually, the music grew faster, as did our tempo, spinning, and with the sudden ending, Fue dipped me down again, but this time, his nose brushed past mine.

My lips never felt something so soft, growing deeper with his arms bringing me into his embrace, locking me in and showering me with every drop of passion that he had to offer, opening my heart like a door, arms around his neck and holding on as tight as I could.

When our lips parted, my eyes were still closed, taking in a big breath, softly looking through my lashes to find his eyes, carefully bringing me around and upright. He was a little nervous too, but after swallowing a breath, he maintained his courage, finding the rose from before, and asking again:

"Will you be mine, my dear Y/N?"

Fue proved himself to me and every single emotion I felt during that dance was new but real. I just knew it, holding his hands and the rose, picking my head up to kiss once more:

"All yours, Fue." 

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