#and i want all 5 of them to take turns sitting on my face

[222col]

second best | part two

★ patrick zweig x reader ★ you're after revenge, wanting to give patrick a taste of his own medicine, the question is, how long will it last? ★ 5.3k ★ 18+ | cw: smut: unprotected sex, choking, spanking ★ an: part one | take a shot every time u see the word thwaccckkkk

"you gonna win for me tomorrow?" patrick mumbles against your skin, his lips against your neck, arms around your waist as his hips buck up into you. you'd made it to the final of the tournament, your first final of a slam, in only your second pro season. biting down on his earlobe, legs wrapped around his waist, groaning into his ear. "yeah? gonna be a good girl and win for me?" he repeats, causing another moan from you. "you're so beautiful when you play, can't wait to watch you." it's as though the only time you and patrick are truly honest with each other is when you're fucking each other, drunk off the sex, too fucked out to play along with any games that exist between you. you can barely form words to respond to patrick, not that you'd need to, he can understand you without them. he mumbles more praise into your ear as he finishes inside you, panting against your skin. "my perfect girl." he whispers, placing open mouth kisses to your shoulder. my perfect girl. you're not even his girl, not really. immediately sliding off him, starting to get dressed as he attempts to pull you back onto the bed with him. "i need to prepare for tomorrow." you mumble, pulling your t-shirt over your head. "why are you being so bitchy these past few days?" he pokes, leaning back on his palms. "you've barely looked at me if i'm not literally inside you." you're biting back your words, holding in your anger that's so close to bubbling over. waiting desperately to chew him out, curse at him, scream every word you can think of at him, but you don't. you simply stand, walk over to the door, and tell him goodbye.

you'd vowed to yourself that your time in new york was the end of your time with patrick, as soon as the us open was over, so were you and him. you'd come to your senses after getting home the night of the quarter finals. you wanted revenge. you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, make him sweat. show him what he was doing to you was wrong, that you deserved better than second best. it might be slightly immoral, but patrick had pushed you past limits you didn't know you had. you knew the easy thing would be just telling his girlfriend, but that was almost too easy. you wanted to see him worked up, wanted to see how far he'd go denying his feelings for you. how long he could go before snapping.

6-3. first set. 5-4. second set. you were one game away from lifting the trophy. one game away from your first grand slam title. 40-15. one more point. thwaccckkkk! the ball bounces onto the other side of the net and straight past your opponent, feeling yourself fall to the ground as the crowd erupts. letting a scream fall from your lips, pulling yourself back up to your feet. patrick's the first you see, stood with your team, wide grin plastered on his face as you walk over to shake your opponents hand. after you collect your trophy, doing all your press junkets, you head into the dressing room. seeing patrick sat there, on the bench waiting for you. "congrats, champ." he sits there smirking at you as you drop your bag to the floor. you walk straight over to him, standing between his legs as he wraps his arms around you. "i'm all sweaty, get off." you mumble, despite his grip only tightening. "no, i love it." he grins, his face pushing into your stomach, kissing the fabric that clings to your skin. "so proud of you." he whispers, inhaling your scent as his hands move down to your ass, underneath your skirt, massaging the flesh through your shorts. his face turns up, looking up to you as you stand before him, ripping your tight top off your body. breathing in deeply, before patrick stands, letting you peel his t-shirt from his body. pushing you up against the wall, his lips attaching to yours. his hands roaming your body, pushing your skort down your legs as you move your feet out from the pool of fabric. "let me look after you, winner." he mumbles into your skin of your neck, undoing his jeans and pushing them down his legs.

it's messy, desperate, the speed in which yours and his underwear are thrown behind you. his big hands lifting you up, laying you down on the bench, his legs either side of it. spitting in his hands, wiping it up and down his length. his hands gripping into your hips, pulling them up to meet him as he pushes himself into you. your back arched at the sensation, choking back moans as he fucks himself into you. his signature smirk across his face, seeing you squirm under his touch. his nails digging into your skin, skin slapping against yours. your already weak body losing more energy, letting patrick take complete control of you. "that's my good girl, let me take care of you." he hums, biting his lip, keeping his groans stuck in his throat. his eyes are glued to you, watching yours roll back into your head as he lifts your hips up even higher. "feel so fucking good baby." he mumbles praise, bringing your legs up to rest against his chest. pressing wet kisses to your ankles. your hands gripping the wooden panels of the bench, head flung back as a loud whimper leaves your mouth. "shush," patrick hums, chuckling almost. "you're gonna get us caught, princess." he leans forward, contorting your body as he moves one of his hands over your mouth. your brows are furrowed, looking up into his eyes as he pounds into you harder. your mouth agape under his calloused hand, his fingers tight on your cheekbones. his grip on your hip moves to bring his hand to your cunt, smirking as he watches you squirm once his thumb starts circling your clit. he loves you like this, a whimpering, sweaty mess under his touch. it's his favourite sight in the world, watching you unravel under him. all his over thoughts disappear the second you're alone with him. he'd live in his state if humanly possible.

your body jolts, writhing under his touch as you fall over the line. moans slipping through his fingers as he works you through your high. his head flinging back, shooting his load into you as he feels you clench around him. "holy fuck." he groans, gripping onto your ankles as he lets his cum drip down from you. both whimpering at the loss of sensation as he pulls out of you, letting your legs drop down to your sides. "jesus, that was fucking insane." he mutters, chuckling slightly. "i know." you smile back, walking over to the shower to clean yourself up as he gets dressed. walking back out in a new skort and matching top, zipping up your jacket as you pick up your bags. "that was the last time." you state, lips flatlined as you look to his position by the lockers. patrick's brows furrowing, kicking himself off the metal lockers to strand up straight. "what?" he questions, his mouth slightly agape. shrugging your shoulders as you open the door to the dressing room. "i'm not second best." patrick's speechless, watching you leave. his body slumping down onto the floor, his head flinging back into the lockers with force. "fuck!"

it's a month before you see patrick again, at the next tournament you're both competing at. a stream of unanswered texts flood your phone, along with a collection of drunk voicemails left by him. swept away by the attention winning your first slam, your focus on your tennis for the time being. half way across the world, you check into your hotel, readying yourself for the players mixer being held. walking into the hotel's function room, the hall already awash with players as you strut over to the bar. "will you just fucking talk to me?" you hear the familiar voice in your ear the second he reaches you. "fuck off, patrick." you murmur, before ordering yourself a drink. "you're killing me." he groans, his voice needy. "why won't you reply to any of my texts?" he questions, as you stand by a table, holding your drink in your hands, not looking to him. patrick's following you around like a puppy, desperate for you to just look at him, let alone reply. when you finally do, look at him, his breath catches in his throat. your eyes are soft, despite the rest of your face being utterly unimpressed by him. "i told you. it's over, patrick. leave it alone." you grumble, your words like knives to his chest. "go cry to your girlfriend." you spit, bringing your glass up your lips, looking away from him. "i don't have a girlfriend." he returns, leaning on the table, facing you. he's drinking in every move you make, every time you blink, inhaling your scent after a month away from you.

that was a new development. you bite back any form of reaction to patrick's words, just placing your drink back down on the table. he opens his mouth to speak again but he's cut off by another player entering the conversation. "hey, i'm jack. can I buy you a drink?" he smiles to you, leaning on his elbow to face you. patrick rolls his eyes, watching your body contort to face the voice beckoning you. "she's already got one." patrick mumbles, before you cut him off and nod your head to the brunette on the other side of you. "yeah, i'd like that." patrick grumbles, rolling his eyes as he watches you walk over to the bar, leaning his back on the table, glancing down to your half empty drink left beside him. he thought things would be easier, seeing you again. thought you'd come running back into his arms, especially now he'd dumped his girlfriend. but you don't. you spit at him, crush him more than the month of unanswered texts did. he sighs, picking up the remainder of your drink, downing it all as he watches you laugh and lean into the guy you're with. he spends the night sulking, drinking, watching you. pushing away the people who attempt to talk to him, too focused on watching your interactions. you're hanging onto jack's arm by the end of the night, letting him lead you upstairs, to his room. all patrick can do is watch. watch you slip further away from his grasp, while drowning his sorrows in more alcohol, that he won't be thankful for tomorrow during the first round of press.

patrick's there, always there, wherever you are the whole weekend of press and promo. following you around, just to see you. even if it means seeing you flirt and shower men that aren't him in your attention. he's lost, dumfounded on how to act if you aren't with him. desperate just to hear your velvety voice, see your lips upturn in reaction to his words, not someone else. he's consumed with need, attempting to distract himself with his tennis, not that it's working. he's panting, sweat dripping from his body on the practise courts when you walk out. seeing jack on the other side of you, carrying both sets of racket bags. throwing the ball down onto the floor a few times, breathing in before serving it across the court, met with a nod of approval by his coach. his eyes coast over to you, setting up your things, ready to play against jack. you've replaced him. you're doing everything you used to with patrick, but with another man. you don't need him anymore. it doesn't help patrick's ego that jack's ranking is much higher than his own. patrick attempts to carry on with his training, ignore the distraction of you only two courts away, but he's struggling. "get it together, patrick. c'mon." his coach presses, shouting over instructions as balls keep flying his way. it's almost impossible to concentrate on anything that isn't you. especially when he hears your grunts as you hit the ball over the net. trying to snap himself out of it, out of the very impure thoughts he's thinking. thwaccckkkk! patrick serves the ball with all his frustrations, receiving eyes on him as he does. "not bad, zweig." you half smile to him across the courts. he swears his heart stops beating.

you'd both made it through the round of 32, you're sitting in the recovery pool a couple hours after the match when patrick walks in. you don't notice the door open, only noticing his presence when his smirk forms in front of you, slipping into the small pool, sitting opposite you. "i see you're enjoying the tournament." patrick teases, his arms spread over the edges of the pool. "it's only just started." you return, pulling your legs closer to your body, away from his. "i meant more the company." he pushes, that signature smirk not leaving his lips. he wants to push you, tease you, how you're pushing him. "not that it's any of your business." you scoff, titling your head over to where he sits in the water, trying to read his expression. his hands raise in defence as he sucks on his teeth. "are you gonna be like this with me for the rest of the tour?" his tone becoming more serious as he gulps. his heart rate quickening, realising how close your body is, in such little clothing. he hadn't been alone with you for over a month, his teeth chewing on the inside of his cheek, holding back his urge to reach out and touch you. you don't respond, just rolling your eyes and looking away from him. "tell me you don't want me and i'll leave you alone." the words leave patrick's lips before he can even realise what he's said. his stomach in knots the second he realises what he's proposed, he wouldn't be able to stay away even if you did tell him that. "i don't want you." the words hit his chest before his ears, his gaze on you intense as his bottom lip is moves between his teeth. patrick's brows furrow, just looking at you as his body floods with emotion. "you don't mean that." he chokes out. all you do is stare back at him, your face unreadable as you do. the water splashes onto your chest as patrick abruptly exists the pool, wrapping the towel around his waist as he looks down to you, your eyes lifting to look up to him. your gaze still soft, as it always is with patrick. "whatever." he mumbles, pushing the door open as he scrambles out of the room.

you distract yourself with tennis, or attempt to. lying to yourself that you don't want patrick. that you don't want to run to him, to be with him, to be his. if it wasn't tennis you used as a distraction, it was jack. he knew your head was elsewhere, so was his, so it worked. you were making your way through the tournament, into the round of 16, as was patrick. a lot of eyes obviously on you after winning the us open, your ranking moving up as well as the media circus that followed you. 'new tennis power couple?' was the article you were sent, with pictures of you and jack attached. rolling your eyes as you scrolled mindlessly through the so called news site. laughing about it with jack as you joined up with him for lunch, hearing the whispers around the hall as you sat together. patrick sat alone, pushing around the food on his plate, seeing the updates come out about you and jack. he should have known not to believe it, he knows how the media can be. you're barely even touching jack in the pictures, he doesn't know you like patrick does. but it doesn't stop the pit in his stomach as he watches the two of you together. it's only when he's alone in his hotel room that he texts you, adding another message to the number of texts he'd sent over the course of the month.

patrick: i know i said i'd back off but just tell me it's not true

sighing at notification on your phone, the bright screen lighting up the empty room. you try to fight off the urge to reply, knowing exactly what he's referencing. eventually, your head wins, turning the phone off and going to downstairs to the hotel lobby, your next match wasn't until the day after tomorrow. the read receipt highlighted on patrick's phone as he sits on the chat. throwing the phone across the room after a while of sitting there waiting. after throwing a shirt on his body, he wandered down to the hotel lobby. you're already down there, sat alone with a drink in hand. patrick quietly orders himself a drink and sits down across from you. "please, just talk to me." he sighs, leaning closer to you over the table. "patrick, i-" your defences are down, too tired, too frustrated. "i know i hurt you, okay? i'll never forgive myself for that, but i miss you." he babbles, his hand inching closer towards yours. "i'm so sorry, i want you, okay, just you." he whispers, his words coming out more like sobs than fully formed sentences. you're about to open your mouth to reply, when jack appears in front of you. you'd texted him to meet you down here. looking to patrick before back up to jack, standing up to kiss his lips. it was a low blow, you knew that, but patrick deserved it. he'd ruined your self-respect, you earned your right to serve his karma to him. patrick doesn't say anything, just watches. watches your hands wrap in his hair, watches your body melt against his, watches his heart get ripped out of his chest. you make eye contact with patrick as you push jack away towards the elevators, his face emotionless.

it was fate. horrible, twisted fate that patrick would draw jack in the quarter finals. everyone was backing jack to win, he was on paper the better player. more pragmatic, less chaotic than patrick. but patrick knew he had a point to prove. his eyes immediately found you in the stands at he walks out onto the court, his smirk present as he sets down his things. you're sat with a few of the friends you've made during the tour, barely able to focus on the conversation around you, eyes darting between patrick and jack sitting before you on the court. thwaccckkkk! your nails are half bitten off by the end of the first set, your heart in your chest at the end of the second. 6-2, 6-4. one set each. patrick was playing more erratically than usual, his curls slick to his forehead, sweat dripping down his chin. thwaccckkkk! patrick's eyes dart to you. "game, set, match, zweig." patrick's body slumps to the floor, his arms resting on his knees, catching his breath before walking across the court to shake jack's hand. his eyes dart up to you again, to your empty seat. his eyes search for you, catching a glimpse of you exiting the stands. slumping down onto the floor again, thinking how it didn't mean anything. his win, to you, met nothing.

it's 10pm when you hear the knocking on your hotel door, jumping up from your place on the bed, opening the door to patrick. ready to close the door on him before he barges in. "i fucking won, and you just leave?" his voice already raised, facing you as you close the door. "so what?" you scoff, arms crossed against your chest. "i won, i beat him." his tone angry, his chest already pounding. "i didn't realise you were playing for my attention." your words are sharp, cutting through to him. "of course i fucking was!" patrick shouts, his body only two foot away from your own. "everything i do is to get your attention." his voice still raised. your lips are flat, just staring at him, but eyes still soft. "you are killing me." he almost whispers. "patrick, this was never going to end well, just look at how we started." your voice starts to increase in volume, fed up of this wounded puppy display patrick is showing. "i don't want it to end at all." you're both shouting now, not caring about who can hear through the hotel walls. "this is fucking ridiculous, i'm not your girlfriend, never fucking was." you spit your words out, arms dropping to your sides. "i'm not the only one who was cheating, you know? or did you forget that when you jumped on your high horse?" patrick's words are pointed, his body stepping closer towards you. "yeah, but i actually dumped my boyfriend! for you, patrick!"

he doesn't know how, he doesn't remember telling his body to move, but he definitely doesn't mind that it did. his hands are cupped around your face, his lips smashed into yours. you push yourself off of him, looking into his eyes before immediately crashing your lips back onto his. it's messy, tongues slipping over each others, your hands grabbing at the fabric around his waist. "tell me you want me." patrick mumbles into your mouth, his hands moving to grip at the hairs on your scalp. a grumble falls from you, your tongue pushing further into patrick's mouth before he pulls your head away by your hair. forcing your eyes to look to his, his fist balled around your hair. "tell me you fucking want me." you want to punch the smirk off his face, your breath heavy as you stare into his half-lidded eyes. "i want you." he pulls your head back further. "tell me again." your mouth agape, a quiet whimper escaping you. "i want you." you moan out, his grip loosening as his lips attach to yours again, only parting to pull your t-shirt over your head. "good girl." he whispers, as your fingers pull his shirt off his body. it's moments before patrick reaches down, hooking your thighs under his grip, lifting you up and walking over to the bed. his lips only detaching from yours when he throws your body down onto the mattress. patrick's eyes are dark as he crawls over your body, his lips kissing up from your stomach before he reaches your neck. propped up on your elbows as his mouth nips and sucks at the base of your neck, quiet hums of pleasure from you rush to his ears like it's the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. "missed your skin." he mumbles against your jaw, wrapping his lips around your earlobe. "shut up." you groan, your head angling to expose more of your neck to him.

"oh, you wanna be a little brat do you?" his evil smirk shows again, fingers digging into the sides of your wrists as he pins them up above your head. he manoeuvres to capture your wrists with one of his hands as the other pushes your shorts down to your knees, slipping his hand into your panties, groaning as he feels your wetness. using his knee to push your legs apart, your shorts bunching at your ankles as you free your feet from the pool of fabric. "so wet for me already." he teases, his fingers sliding through your folds as he starts circling your clit. patrick's mouth sucking on the skin of your collarbone as you struggle trying to free your arms from his grip. all he does is push your wrists further into the mattress, his fingers digging into your skin. his eyes glare into yours as he watches every expression you make, not daring to look away as the pace of his fingers speeds up. "mmm, so close," you mumble, your back arching before patrick rips his fingers away, letting go of your wrists at the same time. "what the fuck." you grumble, a slight pout on your lips, only causing an evil chuckle from patrick. "you don't get to cum until i'm inside you." he smirks, ripping your panties down your legs before standing up to pull his shorts down his legs along with his underwear. "you're so fucking annoying." you continue complaining as patrick crawls over your body again, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "why are you so desperate to fuck me then?"

your mouth opens to reply, words inching out as patrick's hand wraps around your throat. "shut the fuck up." he smirks, his fingers digging into the sides of your neck as you fight for breath. your hand moves to grip as his wrist, watching as patrick lets a glob of spit drip from his mouth down onto your cunt. sitting himself up on his knees, your thighs resting against his as his free hand drifts to rub his cock against you. smearing his spit into your wetness, teasing your entrance as he pushes himself in an inch. your head pushing back into the mattress, eyes fluttering closed as you attempt to ask him for more. "look at me." he orders, his eyes dark and half-lidded as you eventually look to him. "good girl." he groans as he slides himself in fully. patrick finally removes his hand from your throat, moving to squeeze the flesh of your thighs as he fucks you without mercy. his nails cutting into your skin as moans echo around the room, his body falling on top of yours as you clench around him. his forehead pressed against yours, open mouthed kisses pressed to your jaw. your arms wrapped around his body, clawing at his shoulder blades as your legs move to trap his body against yours. sucking bruises onto patrick's neck as his hips smash against yours repeatedly. he groans as he slides out you, flipping your body over and pulling your ass up against him. barely being able to register what's happened by the time his cock slides into you again, scrambling to prop yourself up onto all fours. thwaccckkkk! the sound of his open palm against your ass sends a shiver down your arching spine, as loud moans escape your throat. patrick spanks the flesh of your ass again before grabbing a handful of your hair, pulling your chest up closer to his body. patrick's grunts fill your ears as the hand on your ass reaches below you, his fingers drawing circles against your clit. his teeth nipping at the skin on your shoulder as he pulls you closer, your back flush against his chest. patrick can tell you're close to the edge, feeling the way you clench around him and the volume of your moans getting louder.

"cum for me baby, be a good little girl and cum for me." patrick mumbles against your skin, licking the skin of your neck. his words force you to let go, an almost scream leaving your lips as your body nearly crumbles at the sensation. patrick's grip on your hair keeping you upright, humming into your neck. he lets you ride out your high before pushing your chest down into the mattress, his big hands gripping at the sides of your body under your arms as he fastens his pace. your face near enough buried in the mattress as you turn to try and look up to him behind you, patrick groaning louder as you do. "so fucking pretty like this." he murmurs, nails digging into your flesh as he slams his hips against your ass once more, filling your insides with his load. "jesus fucking christ." patrick groans as his body falls flat on top of you, panting as he places sloppy kisses to your back. feeling his load start to drip down you as he slides out and falls to the side of you.

your bodies are bruised and scratched, staring into each others eyes as you both attempt to return your breathing to a normal pace. patrick leans over, kissing your lips sweetly as you manoeuvre onto your side. "i take it that means you and jack aren't a thing, right? or did you just cheat on another boyfriend?" patrick almost laughs at himself, as you swat his arm. "you're such an asshole." you laugh, shaking your head at him. this is what he'd missed. your laugh, the way you looked at him, you being the only person in the world who could put him in his place. the way you put up with him, how you always knew what to say. moving to brush his curls off his forehead, letting your fingers rest against his cheek, slowly caressing his skin. "i meant what i said, that i just want you." patrick whispers, his hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "i know." you smile, your thumb still rubbing back and forth on his face. the silence is comfortable, eyes locked on each other, peaceful. waking up the next morning, it's as though everything has fallen back into place. patrick joins you training, returns to his regular position opposite you on the practise courts. there's no conversations about your relationship, patrick's too scared to ask. too scared to question, he doesn't want to risk pushing you away again.

thwaccckkkk! sitting in the box with patrick's coaches and the rest of his team, watching patrick play in his first final of his professional career. you'd unfortunately been knocked out during the semi-finals, meaning the rest of your time during the tournament was spent helping patrick prepare. you could tell patrick was nervous, despite no one else picking up on it. to the average eye, he was calm, playing as chaotically controlled as usual. sweat was dripping from every inch of his skin, his black tank stuck to his chest as he rolled the racket between his hands. patrick was a set up against his opponent, he'd won six games to four. his eyes glance over to the box, listening to his coach's advice, letting his eyes wander to you as he does. the silence is almost eery, not that he wasn't used to it during matches, but the silence before serves is when he really considers his surroundings. he's in the final, his first final. he's a set up, he could actually win this. you're a wreck, anxiously watching from the stands as patrick wins another game. a smirk rushes onto your face, watching patrick hit a tweener, to win the match. jumping up to your feet with his team as the crowd erupts. it's as though patrick doesn't register it, until he looks at you. his racket drops from his hands, falling onto his knees, letting the wash of emotion rush over him. he shakes his opponent's hand before security bring him through the crowd to his team. engulfed in hugs by his coaches, shouting how proud they are of him before he escapes their grip. moving down to you, his arms wrapping around you as he lifts you up to the air. "i knew you'd win." you giggle into his ear as he places you down onto the ground, his teethy grin not leaving his face. his hands stay wrapped around you as his lips crash into yours, in the middle of the crowd, in front of cameras from every angle. "i can't believe you just did that." you smile, blush creeping onto your cheeks as you feel every set of eyes on you. "what? i can't kiss my girl after winning my first title?" patrick chuckles, hands pulling you flush against him. "oh, your girl, huh?" you laugh, hands snaking around his neck, his lips grazing yours as he speaks. "you know you're mine."

[aceistheplace86]

Strawberry & Pine Pt.5

(I think I am going to end this story here soon. But for now, you get some cute stuff) (I made Stan cheesy. I am not sorry.)

Stan had been getting closer to Julie during their time working at the shack and working on the portal together. He eventually admitted to himself that he was falling for her. He hadn’t been able to admit those feelings to her.

“You alright out here Stanley?” A soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

Stan had been sitting on the porch outside just trying to get his thoughts together. He was really starting to like Julie, he found himself always wanting to be around her and never wanted her to go home at the end of the day. But he couldn’t get himself to be brave enough to tell her, he felt he had too much going on, too much baggage. He didn’t feel good enough for her.

“Oh, yeah I’m alright” He glanced over at Julie who was leaning in the doorway. “The twins give you any trouble?”

Dipper and Mable had gone to bed but not before asking Julie to tell them a story. Mable was really the one asking but Julie knew Dipper was listening once she started talking about the Loch Ness “monster”

“They’re all settled down, hope you don’t mind I told them about Nessie,” She says sitting down next to him on the couch.

Stan sighed “I don’t enjoy the fact that the kids know about the weird stuff that goes on here, but I know they already know a lot. They’re doing good at protecting each other”

Julie put a hand on his arm “You’re doing good at protecting them too Stanley” She whispers softly.

He looks at her, finding himself taking notice of her eyes again. She had pretty eyes, she was pretty, and she smelled like Strawberries. It wasn’t a sickly sweet, she smelled comforting.

God he was going crazy.

“Y’know Ford wrote a lot about you” He whispered. Why on earth did he bring up his brother to her? That was not a flirting technique in the slightest.

Julie seemed shocked but nodded slowly “Yeah I know” She looks back out ahead of her, sinking back into the couch. “He liked to study me, my powers, my strengths and weaknesses”

Stan kept looking at her even when she looked away. He didn’t say anything, he just wanted her to keep talking.

“At first it was nice, I thought I had a friend” She shakes her head “But I started to realize he didn’t see me like that. He just saw me as apart of his research.”

“I see you” Stan whispered, the words falling out of his mouth faster than he could realize what he had just said.

Julie looked over at him “What?”

She was looking at him again and he felt like a kid with a high school crush. His brain. Could. Not. Work. “I uhm” He stuttered “You know cause, I’m not that old, despite what Dipper says when I’m driving” He let out an awkward laugh and quickly looked away from her.

He could see out of the corner of his eyes that she was just looking at him “Stanley” She whispers softly. He’s kind of hoping that she will force him to talk about whatever the hell that was, to talk about his feelings. Something.

But she didn’t. “I should probably get going” She stood up from the couch “You should get some sleep here soon”

Stan watched her stand, he felt like he was about to lose his only chance. He didn’t think he would be this brave tomorrow. “Julie wait” He patted the couch when she turned to look at him. Once she took a seat he sighed heavily. “We’ve been doing great work with the portal” he said slowly.

She was just looking at him patiently, not a hint of judgment or annoyance on her face. “And I know soon we’ll get that thing turned on. A-and I like spending time with you, y’know, you’re a hard worker here at the Shack and-and you get along real well with the kids” He rubbed the back of his neck “My brother wrote a lot about your magical talent but I uh, I think I got lucky getting to know you as a person” He groaned and ran his hand down his face “That sounds real lame” he mumbled.

“It’s not lame, Stanley” She says with a small smile on her face. “I think you might be the first person to make an effort to treat me like a person”

He moved his hand and looked at her confused “Whaddya mean?”

“Well everyone knows about me and my magic, so that is their focus. I get it, it’s cool to have a Gravity Falls "anomaly" do fun magic and not try and attack the town, but after a while, it gets frustrating to only be known as a witch” She shrugs “But you have never once asked me to be apart of the Mystery Shack's attraction, and I know that would bring in tourists” She chuckled “But you made me strawberry pancakes my first morning here, you offered me a room and you took time to decorate it with my favorite color”

Stan shrugs “Mable has a lot of pink and she likes to decorate”

Julie just laughs “But you care Stanley. You’re sweet to me, You didn’t even ask me to use my magic to help with the portal, I just did it.”

“Yeah, I dunno how much magic you can use before you get tired or somethin’ and I didn’t want to wear you out cleaning up a mess you didn’t make”

“See, you’re real sweet to me” She continues “I knew that even when your brother talked about you, even though he was upset it was hard for him to convince himself, or even me, that you were the bad guy”

“He talked about me?”

Julie nodded. “Ford is a stubborn shit but he cares.” She rolls her eyes slightly “he just doesn’t really show it well”

Stan nodded and thought about it for a moment “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you this without sounding like some love struck teenager” He rubbed the back of his neck “But I don’t think that’s possible because you make me feel like that again. Like how I used to be before all of this” he waves his hands and looks around “went down” He looks at her “I like being around you Julie. I-“ He just nodded slowly.

“I like you too Stanley” She says sitting back with him. “Hey I’ve been thinking of a good way to scam tourists”

“Oh yeah?” he leans back against the couch and pulled her into his side “Whats that?”

Julie comfortably snuggled into his side “You get people to pay money to enter a drawing to win a prize, you get everyone all excited and you make them think that the more they pay the better chance they have at winning” She continued “The twist. All that they’ll win is a shirt that says ‘I entered the Mystery Mania Raffle and all I got was this lousy t-shirt’”

Stan busted out laughing, tossing his head back “That’s a good one! Real smart” He kissed the top of her head “I like that”

The two of them stayed out there all night, talking about ways to trick tourists, some of his funnier crimes and eventually about what life was like before Gravity Falls, and what might happen after this portal gets fixed.

Mable and Dipper found them asleep together the next morning. Mable has pictures.

(I hope you enjoyed this! The next part is gonna be sad. Yay!)

[tourturestarradio]

𝐒𝐄𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Pairing: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Nami (more added later) x Mermaid reader!

Prompt: After your family jewels were stolen you were determined to get them back joining you closest friend Monkey D. Luffy on his adventure to become the king of the pirates.

Warnings: none, this follows the live action!!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

⋆｡°✩ ┊         ┊       ┊   ┊    ┊        ┊               ┊         ┊       ┊   ┊   ˚★⋆｡˚  ⋆ ┊         ┊       ┊   ⋆                                                                                                         ┊         ┊       ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆      ┊ .  ˚            ˚★

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒 Y/n stayed focused on them making sure not to ruin the design, it was daytime and Nami was looking at the map to the grandline "that's strange..." she mutters, Y/n looked back "hey Nami!" Nami raised her head "what?" Y/n held her hand up "like my nails?" she asked excitedly.

Nami stared at her "it's alright..." Y/n frowned before perking up "you look cute in your glasses!" Nami paused for a moment before staring back down at her map.

Zoro exited the small room "hey um Nami, your toilets busted" Nami head shot up "we don't have a toilet." Zoro paused "oh...well something is leaking back there" getting up Nami hurried into the room shutting the door behind her.

"Zoro! Zoro! like my nails?" she held up her hand showing off the design, Zoro tilted his head "looks cool" Y/n huffed annoyed by their lack of reaction before returning to decorating her nails.

Luffy nudged Y/n "Luffy! be careful! you almost messed me up" he was sitting next to her "what do you think of the name Straw hat crew? got a nice ring to it don't you think?" Y/n nodded happily "I like it-" nudging him softly with her elbow she smirked "-Captain" Luffy could feel his heart thump a little faster as his face grew red.

Laughing Y/n knew just how flustered Luffy got when she called him that, it was a little odd to her but she didn't question it.

Grabbing her bag she dug through it "look at these glass bottles I found!" Luffy watched as she pulled out three oddly shaped bottles.

He tilted his head "what are those for?" he questioned, Y/n took the corck out of each of the bottles "to collect ocean water." Luffy tilted his head "why?" Y/n dipped one of the bottles under the water "well just in case I need it so I don't die, and what if we run into another devil fruit user? throw some of this on them and we'll have nothing to worry about."

Luffy grinned "so smart!" Y/n filled up each bottle before popping the cork back into them making sure they were tightly shut.

Zoro stared at Buggy's wanted poster "wow, he was worth 15 million berry..." Y/n awed "wow that's a lot..." Y/n stood up as Nami walked over "well we're not going to be here for very long, turns out syrup village is known for its ship building." Luffy perked up "what are we waiting for then?" Luffy walked away, Nami following him, Zoro ripped the wanted poster down muttering "stupid clown"

Y/n chuckled and walked away as did Zoro.

"Wait till I get my hands on that rubber hose little runt, and the dumb fish face, no body make fun of Buggy the clown!" Buggy sneered rummaging through the different crates.

That was until he heard a noise behind him, turning around he saw a fishman standing in his spotlight "oh great another one of you fish faces...."

The fishman spoke "Buggy the clown. Arlong wanted a word with you." Buggy scoffed turning away "well you can tell Arlong I said "I don't take requests."

Y/n and the others walked around looking at all the different ships, "look at them all..." Luffy smirked looking around. Zoro asked the important question "how much do these even cost?" Nami spoke "if you have to ask you probably can't afford it."

Y/n trailed behind them still wanting to look at all the interesting boats. Nami glanced over at Luffy "look we're gonna need something a little less flashy if we want to sneak out of here." she stated, Luffy stopped and looked over at her "you want to steal a ship?" Nami looked at him as if it was obvious.

Crossing her arms she spoke "how else did you expect us to get one?" dosing out Y/n played with her hair until Zoro called out to her "Y/n come on" she blinked and followed them "sorry."

He looked at her questioningly "what's up with you spacing out all the time?" Y/n apologized "I just have a lot on my brain sometimes" she muttered, her fins glowing out of embarrassment.

Zoro shrugged and kept walking, somehow they had managed to lose Luffy "where did he go?" Nami sighed "hopefully he's not causing trouble." Y/n nodded in agreement.

Walking around Y/n spotted him standing next to very large ship with a goat's head in the front "there you are!" she called out hurrying over to him.

Y/n stared at the ship in awe "wow...she's gorgeous..." she muttered, Luffy called out "guys! I found it! I found our ship, and this guy will sell it to us!" he smiled.

Y/n looked at the male he had dark brown skin and a brown scarf tied around his head holding back his hair, he was very handsome.

The male looked confused "o-oh um what..uh" Luffy nodded "yep we'll take it!" the man shook his head "technically she's not for sale" Y/n frowned, as did Luffy "I mean technically i'm not a salesman..." Y/n only 'oh'ed' at his words.

Nami held her hands on her hips "well do you even work here?" Y/n cocked her head to the side "hm.."

He looked at the rest of them "of course I do, I'm the chief technician in charge of ​encrustation removal and aviary waste eradication." Y/n and Luffy both grew confused at his big words.

Zoro dumped it down "he scrubs barnacles and cleans bird shit" Y/n and Luffy both "ooohhh" at his words.

Y/n sighed "well that's not much help." he quickly cut in "wait, wait, wait, I can help you." he began "the owner of this ship just happens to be my closest friend." Y/n smiled "that's great!" Nami raised a suspicious brow "you're friends with the owner of this ship...?"

He nodded, "not just this one, but the whole shipyard" Y/n grew excited "wow! really! that's so cool!" the male smiled at Y/n "I know right" Y/n bounced up and down "let's go meet her! she sounds awesome!" the male chuckled "alright i'll take you guys to her, I'm sure you can strike a deal with her" he stated.

He walked away "follow me." Y/n and the others followed behind him Luffy and Y/n giggling like children. Nami and Zoro watched from behind them "just a like." Nami sighed, "no wonder they're best friends." Zoro muttered

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

Luffy looked in awe at the house "wow i've never seen a house this big before..." he stated, Y/n walked around "so pretty..." she muttered, "all of this just for one person?" she questioned, the male looked over "well no she lives here with her butler and a few other staff." he stated.

Y/n looked at the flowers "so pretty! Zoro! look!" picking up one of the flowers from the pond she showed it to him, he didn't look to impressed but he found her excitement cute so he humored her a bit "it's pretty, it kinda matches with your skin" the color did match with her clashing skin tones.

Nami slapped his arm, he looked at her confused "don't say that. she might think you're making fun of her...condition" she whisper shouted to him, Zoro blinked "oh...Y/n I didn't mean it like that-" Y/n chuckled shaking her head "I know what you meant it's okay" she stated putting the flower back in the pond.

She walked ahead of them to catch up with Luffy, "see she was fine with it." Nami rolled her eyes "just. be mindful of what you say. who knows what's going on inside that head of hers"

Luffy asked "hey so if you're always welcomed here why do we have to go around the back?" Y/n nodded in agreement, the male stumbled over his words "u-uh well I never use the front entrance, this is more of a VIP entrance."

Y/n couldn't care less about what they were talking about, she only had a big interest in the garden looking over all the different colored flowers and nicely cut garden hedges.

That was until the male stopped "ya'know there's a more exclusive entrance back this way!" Y/n spotted two people one of them was a round man with an odd haircut, while there was a girl with blue hair.

He tossed a knife towards the male "now what the hell are you doing here Usopp?" Y/n leaned closer to Luffy "they don't seem very happy to see him."

The male dubbed as Usopp chuckled nervously "Buchi, buddy, uh Kaya is expecting me." Buchi grabbed Usopp glaring at him "another one of your lies...you're not welcomed here you know that." Usopp tilted his head "I know nothing of the sort. uh I'm here to give Kaya an extra special gift."

Buchi looked as if he was about to say something rude when a polite voice called out to him "Usopp!" the four of the five of the looked over seeing a blonde girl with a pink dress, she held onto the arm of her butler.

"What a wonderful surprise" she smiled, Y/n and the others watch the interaction between the two "Kaya! happy birthday" she looked a little shocked "you remembered."

Y/n pouted looking at Luffy "you never remembered my birthday" he snapped his head over "yes I do!" Y/n dead panned "when's my birthday?" she questioned, he stopped for a second as if he was deep in thought. Y/n sighed "wow some best friend you are." Luffy grabbed her shoulders "I remember I just wasn't expecting that question!"

Y/n laughed "i'm kidding Luf!" she stated patting his head, he let out a sigh of relief "oh...don't do that! that wasn't funny!" Y/n only laughed harder covering her mouth, Luffy let go of her shaking his head.

Usopp pointed behind him "I brought my crew!" Y/n cocked her head to the side as Luffy blinked "is he talking about us?" Kaya lightly waved towards them "nice to meet you! you all must stay for dinner!" she insisted.

Luffy perked up at the mentions of food, as did Y/n "I am kinda of hungry now that you mention it" Luffy smiled "alright when do we eat?" her butler scoffed "you don't. Not dressed like that." Y/n looked down at her clothes wondering what was wrong with them?

Was it too revealing?

Klahadore turned his attention to the girl with blue hair "Sham. show Usopp and his friends to the guest suites. you will bathe and change before dinner" Y/n held her hand up to her nose sniffing, 'well I do smell the seawater so reasonable' she shrugged.

Following the blue haired girl walked past Kaya whispering "happy birthday" to her, Kaya smiled and nodded "thank you" as she walked past Klahadore stared at Y/n intensely. Even though it creeped her out she gave him a polite smile, he looked her up and down as if he was analyzing her.

But that was soon cut short when Zoro stepped in blocking his view "watch where you're staring" he muttered to him before Zoro kept walking staying close to Y/n. Nami watched with a tiny smirk.

Luffy flipped through the different clothes "so many options! what should I wear?" Nami looked back at him "anything you want. when are you going to get the opportunity to wear things this nice?" stepping out from behind a cover up thing (I totally did NOT forget what those are called) she had on a blue and black dress.

"Well what do you think?" she asked Luffy "well, you look like Nami" he shrugged, she sighed "I'll just ask Y/n...wait where is Y/n?" Zoro walked past before stopping Luffy greeting him "Zoro! what you gonna wear?" he asked, Zoro looked around the room "something black."

Luffy looked around "hey Zoro have you seen Y/n?" he asked, Zoro shook his head "nope maybe she's still in the bath" he shrugged. Luffy sighed "i'm gonna go look for her" he stood up leaving the room. Zoro watched him go "hopefully that butler isn't around her." As Nami flipped through the clothes she decided to tease him a a bit.

Looking back she smirked "why? you scared he's gonna steal her from you?" Zoro scoffed "no, I just don't like the way he was looking at her." Nami chuckled "my point exactly." Zoro rolled his eyes muttering "whatever..."

Luffy walked through the large house back to the bathrooms, without thinking he opened the door "Y/n you in here-oh!" Y/n was peacefully soaking in the warm water her tossed back. The water graciously stopped right before it showed off her entire chest.

Opening her eyes she squealed "Luffy!" his cheeks flared up as he quickly shut the door yelling "Sorry!" he hurried back to the room. "did you find her?" Nami asked, Luffy nodded silently his cheeks still burning red.

Zoro stared at him "somethings telling me he saw something he shouldn't have." Nami nodded in agreement.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮

A/n: Can you tell who my favorite character is?

Tag List: @luuffyswife @ghostlyworld @valen-yamyam16 @juhdoche

[adachimoe]

A long and meandering post about Adachi and the Investigation Team

I have no idea what to title or describe this as. This is a long ass rambling 2.5k+ word post that consists of like 5 drafts I had sitting around that all felt somewhat related. It starts with the part where the Investigation Team tells Adachi to get over himself, then devolves into talking about Adachi punching himself in the face repeatedly (metaphorically), before ending by exploring the idea of Adachi as the Investigation Team's collective Shadow. it rly is tl;dr.

Adachi will remember that

At one point in Magatsu Inaba, the Investigation Team takes turns responding to Adachi in verbal turn-based combat. They all have varying responses and levels of understanding of him.

Chie doesn't understand why Adachi even became a cop, Rise thinks he's full of shit, Kanji tells him a 2008 version of "go kys" (tbf, he's never been eloquent with words), Yukiko tells Adachi that he sounds like a kid, Naoto calls him out for finding life annoying while being a damn annoyance, and Yosuke tells him he's just a criminal.

What Yukiko says to him in particular appears to sting Adachi, evident by how he "!" emotes in reaction to her. Or idk maybe he's secretly into getting bullied by women. I think Yukiko has Adachi's number here, and he knows that. After all, part of his schtick is that, "Oh, you stupid fuckin' kids, you don't know what I've been through or how I feel! Get off my dungeon lawn!!!" And yet, one of those stupid kids is able to tl;dr his life. He later even repeats what she said back at Sho during P4U2.

What Yukiko says here, I think, stands out in particular not just because of Adachi's reaction but also because it resembles a sentiment found in other media: The contradiction of being alive while not "truly" being alive. This often goes like so: A character can be alive in that they are most certainly physically living and breathing, but they are largely closed off from the rest of the world and going through the motions. Thus they are said to not truly be alive.

In the context of Persona 4, I believe Adachi fits in with this trope. As Yukiko has assessed, life sucks, but it's not like he's in any hurry to die. From what we see of Adachi in the plot, he's going through the motions. He wakes up, goes to his job, goes to Junes to bum free air conditioning, and sometimes gets dragged over to Dojima's house.

I don't think it's bad that people fall into these routines by default. Some find them comforting, some appreciate the simplicity, and some make up for the monotony of adult life with the more fascinating things they do outside of work.

But this doesn't apply to Adachi, who openly groans about his life and job. He seems to want to live and fit in with society, but he wants to do with more than what he has right now, yet he also seems unwilling or unable to put in the effort to get what he wants. He tells us he's lonely and wants a girlfriend, but when the old woman from his Social Link tries to hook him up with a girl, he finds it all annoying. He thinks of himself as an elite detective who is above Inaba, but he is regularly made out to be incompetent, sloppy, and careless.

It's like he's stuck but not doing anything to become unstuck. Following the tropes, Adachi would move from being a character who is "alive without really being alive" to "Truly Living" once he figures out how to get himself un-stuck. If he truly wants to be a hotshot detective in the big city with a smokin' hot wife, then something needs to change because he won't get those things as he is now. But how does Adachi approach the subject of "change"?

Maybe the world really is just a shitshow?

Adachi being exposed as the murderer is a major turning point for the murder investigation. And after the Investigation Team chases him into the TV, one of the many things he talks about is "change", or rather a lack of change.

As far as Adachi is concerned, the world can't / won't / doesn't change. He criticizes the world and its inability to change, how society works, and how people will latch to whatever you tell them as the truth.

Some things he says might resonate with us, especially nowadays with the spread of social media and misinformation. However, despite these criticisms, it sounds like he still desires to be part of society. He has been trying to blend in as a normal guy since April despite being a murderer. I think it's worth reiterating that his complaints about his life weren't anarchist but more like, "I don't have a cute girlfriend who cooks for me." Furthermore, he was trying to take advantage of misinformation to get away with murder by pinning it on Namatame.

Adachi doesn't like the current world and doesn't think it will change. Thus, he is forcing it to change in a completely catastrophic way. He really is throwing a tantrum: Like, what, you can't get away with murder? All right, throw the whole world away. With this approach, it is not Adachi who must change to fit in with the world, but rather the world that must change to fit Adachi.

Change isn't a good subject with him, which, honestly, is relatable. Change is easier said than done. Even within Persona 4 itself, after getting Magical TV Powers, an event that feasibly might add spice to one's life!!, the same old routine still runs Adachi's life. What has changed is that he's now waiting for Namatame to kill someone. Showing up looking for a dead body in the shopping district is simply a new part of his routine.

This topic of Adachi and change gets wrapped up after the fight against Amenosagiri. Adachi challenges the Investigation Team: >>>If<<< they think they have the power to change the future, then do it.

After entering the TV World, Amenosagiri responds to Adachi's wish and makes his wish come true as the dungeon deadline bad ending shows. That was Adachi's own so-called power to change the future. So what is the Investigation Team's?

Yosuke then replies that everyone has the power to change their future. As in, you don't need special powers from a gigantic disco eyeball inside of a TV to do that. In context, Yosuke is telling Adachi, "This is a 'you' problem," or "Skill issue." And tbh, I think Yosuke is more or less correct here.

In which we revisit the topic of "dumbass" and effort

In some ways, this topic might seem odd to approach. Everyone on the Investigation Team - besides Chie - seems to have a better life situation than Adachi had when he was their age. Are they punching down? Perhaps it feels like a hollow reflection of the collectivist culture that the solution to these antagonists who go "BUT SOCIETY IS WHAT IS WRONG" is always to beat them up and force them to conform--

…..but hold on. That line of thought would be giving in to what Adachi says before his boss battle. And, based on how he quits talking about how "waaah society is unfair" afterward, I find it difficult to think that is what he genuinely believes about his situation.

When I suggest that Yosuke is correct, I don't mean this in a "You aren't special, Adachi, everyone else's life sucks too, just deal with it" kind of way. What I have in mind is how the game seems to support that this is an Adachi problem, not an everyone else problem. Throughout Adachi's Social Link, his other interactions, and what Atlus has said as meta / Word of God answers, you get the idea that people were trying with Adachi, but he wasn't meeting them halfway.

For example:

This entire post is about the effort the MC puts in just to get called a dumbass (though I'd bet that the protag considers Adachi calling him a dumbass to be like a Badge of Honor). Even their gay ass Fever Time in P4D tells the story of Yu trying to reach out and Adachi going, "No!!!"

The old woman in his Social Link is trying to wingwoman for him and hook him up with women in Inaba, but Adachi seems unwilling. Instead, he tells Nanako and the protagonist that he's never getting married. Despite his loneliness, he justifies himself by saying, "Marriage is the graveyard of a man's life."

The Dojima family and Adachi interact briefly throughout the game, both in the story scenes and in his Social Link. As his letter at the end of the game shows, Adachi felt lukewarm about their interactions because he wasn't quite aware of what he had with them until he no longer has their company.

The way I see it, when Adachi rants about the world not changing, he is not actually bitching about the world. Rather, this feels more like a form of projection. He says the world doesn't change, but perhaps he is talking about himself and his own inability to change. Which would reframe it as more like… He knows he's the issue that holds himself back - his own worst enemy, perhaps - but he says the world is wrong to justify himself.

You learn a bit about Adachi through his Social Link. During rank 6, in dialogue that can tragically be missed, Adachi will admit that he is lonely, but he also thinks it's easier that way. And really, easier is just another way of saying "less effort".

On one hand, this might show Adachi's annoyance with other people. But at the same time, for him to call the protagonist a dumbass for investing so much in him and their relationship, I think the unspoken bit here is that Adachi does not think he is worth the time or effort, to begin with. His lack of effort isn't just him being annoyed with people or not giving a shit about things. I'm no expert, but I think the majority of us would wager that this is depression.

As the game's timeline unfolds, we really only know Adachi as the pathetic, silly murder guy. Did he start distancing himself from people because of the "oops, I murdered someone" part? Or was he like this even before then? When he talks more about his past, he doesn't go into a great amount of detail.

Going with my gut here, but I get the feeling that Adachi's obsession with Mayumi - something from before he became a murderer - suggests his distance from people is not a new thing for him. Consider: Meeting people? Forming relationships? Even before we talk about romance, how the hell do you even make friends as an adult? (The answer is BL btw. Go find some girlies who ship the same pairing.) I think Adachi said fuck it to all that bullshit. It'd be easier - less effort - for him to just be alone.

But… What if the magical TV just tells you exactly who your soulmate is? Well, shit, that's easy. For the lonely guy who just got transferred to Inaba and generally keeps his distance from people, I imagine it would be quite convenient to just be told, "This is who your soulmate is".

And that wouldn't be the last time Adachi gets a freebie from the TV. It happens again in December, as Adachi finds an again "easy" solution that does not involve changing himself or doing something annoying that requires effort from him. Having been enabled by the magical TV, Adachi is something of a static character.

Adachi is the Investigation Team's Shadow

In the P4G Premium Fan/Fun/Fsomething book, Atlus defines the Shadow by the Jungian definition, then talks about how the Shadows in-game represent "alternate possibilities" for the characters. The specific example it gives is how Chie's Shadow holds a great deal of animosity towards Yukiko. The real Chie doesn't feel this way towards Yukiko; in fact, she treasures her. Thus, Chie's Shadow is an alternate possibility.

When you look at Chie and what she says about accepting her Shadow, her Shadow seems to be born from a real insecurity (her jealousy of Yukiko) and part of it really does resemble Chie. But part of her Shadow is also this… caricature-esque thing. Hence why Atlus calls it the "alternate possibility". In turn, Chie accepts that she is jealous of Yukiko, but she does not accept the Banana Hat Dominatrix trying to exert control over Yukiko. She even realizes that rather than Yukiko needing her, it was actually her who needed Yukiko.

(I refuse to carry on with this train of thought further than talking about Atlus's own example with Chie because it would inevitably mean having to talk about how Atlus sees Kanji and Naoto's issues/Shadows/dungeons, and I'd need like bottles of wine to get in the mood to even type a paragraph of that.)

During her P4G winter Social Link scene, where her Persona evolves, Chie brings up Adachi and how she could have become him. She continues that anyone could have turned out like him.

Indeed, Adachi very much feels like a, "this could happen to anyone" character. He is an everyday normal guy who accidentally gets involved in something beyond him: a Like a Dragon side story NPC stuck in a game about high schoolers and friendship. Based on how you see these characters, you can correlate many of their issues to Adachi's own issues.

Really, in some ways, he feels like he was written to be the sum of the Investigation Team's insecurities, all bundled into one guy. As Chie's Shadow twisted her jealousy of Yukiko into a desire to control Yukiko and showed an alternate possibility for who Chie could have become if she had let jealousy consume her, perhaps Adachi shows an alternate possibility for who all of them could become.

As Amenosagiri later reveals, the truth torments the Shadows. Your party identifies that is what causes the Shadows to attack people.

When we consider how the game has gone until now, then those moments where the Investigation Team told their Shadows, "You're not me!" must be the moment that Amenosagiri was describing. The members of the Investigation Team come face to face with a being who claims to be them and seems aware of the same issues that gnaw at them. But these beings pervert their issues issues in a direction that doesn't reflect who the Investigation Team really are. And so they challenge that this being is truly them. They, sigh, "reach out to the truth", and it causes their Shadows to go nutso and attack.

And, of course, these repeated scenes where they tell their Shadows all lead up to the last time we see this kind of sequence...

Just as the Investigation Team had to face themselves and pick apart the truths from the caricature, they, too, come to face Adachi and can cut through the bullshit, rejecting his attempts to justify why it's okay for him to merge the TV World into reality and screw everyone over.

That said, though, if we are to compare him to their Shadows, then we must acknowledge that, much like how the Investigation Team's Shadows come from their own real insecurities, Adachi's frustrations with the Investigation Team and with the world at large must also come from something real.

On this screenshotted line in particular, he even uses the more masculine "ore" as his pronoun in Japanese. He usually uses the more boyish "boku", but he seems to swap to "ore" to indicate that he is speaking quite genuinely--or perhaps speaking from the heart.

While he is a whiny murderer throwing an apocalyptic tantrum, I'm sure there are circumstances that made him the person that he is as an adult. Tbh, I've already made a lot of posts talking about the factors that might have contributed to *why* he feels like this, so I won't drag this out further.

By Arena Ultimax, Adachi has come to accept the murder case as the inciting incident that causes him to change as he finds himself finally owning up to his actions from the previous year. He's no role model lol, but life now has more meaning to him than just something you go through every day. Perhaps it's at this moment that he can be said to have gone from merely being alive to living.

(Let's be real tho, jail gives you 3 non-cup noodle meals per day? Damn. It's like he's living his best life. Speaking of which, food feels like such a fitting metaphor for his emotional nourishment.)

In the aftermath of the dungeon and the almost-end-of-the-world, Adachi agreed to start playing by the rules, and became more of a dynamic character. At the beginning of Ultimax, Adachi's commitment to this gets questioned as Yu, Yosuke, and Chie find him allied with Sho (like 5 cutscenes after Yu is so confidant he's behaving himself too, tsk tsk). But Yu reaches the roof, hears Adachi's cringe ass dialogue (I'm pretty sure that Adachi would not have said half that shit if he had known Yu was standing around the corner), and reaffirms his belief that Adachi was genuine about his promise to play by the rules.

The Investigation Team are not on the best of terms with Adachi. Regardless, they went into his dungeon, called him out on his bullshit that had been mixed in with his own real shortcomings and insecurities, punched him, and as we can tell by Ultimax, came to accept him in their own ways as they did their individual Shadows. As Yu says, perhaps they have strangely enough decided to trust in Adachi.

[animelovelover123]

Devil May Cry Characters During Threesomes Extra

Parings: Sparda, Urizen, Nelo Angelo, Credo, Kat, Dante, Reboot Dante, Vergil, Reboot Vergil, Nero, and V x Reader

Synopsis: The awaited sequel to my DMC 3way story. I ended up putting off the girls for the future because writing this was really draining. The only exception is the reboot characters as, due to a lack of them, it is one of the twins, Kat, and you. I don’t intend to do the boy-girl pairings because that would be like 120 scenes (if I did the math right) and I think that would kill me.

Trigger Warnings: Spardacest and selfcest warning, the focus is on you but there are moments where characters pleasure each other and references to family ties.

Also some non-con elements (pretty much just with Urizen and Nelo Angelo), bondage, public foreplay and sex, spoilers for DMC1&4&5, oviposition (aka freaky egg stuff), emotional distress, tentacles, exhibitionism, being an experiment subject, size difference, some pain, lack of control, Macrophilia (giants), BDSM, horse crops, Shibari/Kinbaku, blood, double penetration, edging, orgasm denial, and face sitting.

Dante & Sparda

"Just relax my dear, take in the sights and scents around you." Sparda encouraged you as he helped you lay down on the luxurious bed he had moved to the garden. Around the four-poster bed were tall flower plants, painting your eye line with soft greens and colourful petals.

"You really went all out, didn't you?" Dante said, barely restraining the scoff in his voice. He could admit it was a sweet arrangement, but it seemed overkill. "We were just late coming home." Dante hopped up onto the mattress, which was specially made to fit multiple people.

"That is where you are misguided my boy," Sparda corrected as he leaned over the bed to lovingly stroke your hair and cheek. "To us, it may not seem like much, but to someone waiting at home for their partners to return, uncertainty and worry for their loved ones occupying their mind, it can be extremely stressful." Sparda cupped your cheek and lifted your chin a bit to face him, taking a moment to gaze into your eyes. "We must make up for our mistakes and soothe our love’s troubled heart and mind." He then slowly lowers himself to place a feather-light kiss onto your lips, giving you the room to turn away if you were not quite ready to forgive his and Dante's misdeed.

Dante let out a sigh that started amused but ended as being one of genuine regret. He was still not used to having someone waiting for him at home, but it was clear how upset you were when he and Sparda returned 4 days late from the supposed 1-week long mission. But now at least you looked calmer, with your red cheeks no longer covered in tears and your chest raising and lowering at a normal pace. And when he laid down beside you and started to stroke your stomach, hips, and thighs, you didn’t push him away, something that actually soothed his own troubled heart.

“I guess the old lady was right,” Dante mumbled as he watched Sparda start to kiss from your lips to your chin to your neck. “you are better at dealing with ladies.”

==+==+==

This whole idea was based on the fact that in the DMC5 prequel novel Before the Nightmare, Matier (the old lady from DMC2 that fought alongside Sparda long ago) said that “his father was better at dealing with ladies, as well as better at making excuses”, or so says https://devilmaycry.fandom.com/wiki/Sparda which can’t always be trusted but it's not like I can read the Japanese only book myself to check.

Vergil & Sparda

“Slow down my boy.”  Warned Sparda in that gentle, ‘not actually angry’, parental tone as he placed a hand on Vergil’s back to help break through his son’s lustful haze and listen. “You are going a bit too fast, especially here at the beginning. You want her to feel and enjoy every little movement and sensation rather than it blazing past as a numb blur.” It takes a moment, but Vergil does slow down.

“I understand father.” Vergil huffed out, still in a bit of a daze. The rough and quick slamming of his cock into you slowed to a smooth drag, finally giving your body a chance to relax a bit as your trembling arms held you up so you weren’t face down in the mattress.

Sparda, despite being bigger and stronger, had been so very gentle and considerate of you when he did his “demonstration”, only ramping up the intensity to help push you both over the edge. But Vergil, blinded by the desire to prove himself to Sparda and the lust that had built up in him while watching you be fucked by someone else, had dived forward. He had forced himself into your still-seizing core, not even letting you finish your first orgasm before ravaging you. Thankfully Sparda was there to help and guide Vergil.

“She seems a bit overwhelmed Vergil. Look her over, ask her how she is, and care for her. It is your responsibility as the dominant one to take care of your partner. To make sure they are safe, happy, and satisfied.” Sparda instructs, though he had been watching you closely to make sure you were enjoying yourself so knew you were okay, just a bit overwhelmed.

“Right, of course.” This reminder of your pleasure snapped Vergil out of it, at least for the most part. “My darling, how are you holding up?” Vergil ran his hands up and down your back, using just enough pressure to act as a message.

“Lay her on her side for now,” Sparda said, leading Vergil to gently shift your bodies so that you were both lying on your sides facing Sparda. Vergil did not remove himself from you, his primal lust still holding on too strong to truly give you a break. At least it was more of a cockwarming situation now, for the time being at least. “There we are.” Sparda laid down as well, making it so that Vergil was pressed up against your back, giving your neck apologetic kisses, and Sparda was in front of you running his large hands over your body in a soothing pet. From up into your hair to down your sides and even your legs which he messaged a bit since they had worked so hard to keep you up as Vergil had tried to take you while you were still recovering. “Remember my boy, she is not merely a vessel to let out your lust, but a person to be cherished and, when she gives her trust over to you like this, taken care of. Do you understand?”

Vergil is only able to nod in response as he finds himself struggling to stay calm. He did agree with his father completely, but you felt so good, not just wrapped around his member but also in his arms and his heart. But he would listen to Sparda for you, out of respect for his father, and because deep down inside him Vergil wanted to surpass Sparda and his power to pleasure you.

==+==+==

I thought this scenario would be a fun callback to the Nero & Vergil part since Vergil taught his son a lesson on “how to treat a woman”. Here though you can see how different Sparda and Vergil are in the way they teach and their opinions on how you should be pleasured.

Also, last time I tried to avoid references to characters by their relationships, like calling them brothers or father and son, since it makes some people uncomfortable. But this time I completely gave up. I have so many to write and I feel like the familial bonds could make an interesting dynamic. Besides, even when I blatantly point out that there was, in a way, Spardacest in the last one and tried avoiding bringing attention to it, someone still complained so what the fuck ever. Some people are gonna bitch no matter what so I’ll just ignore them and have fun making what I want without restrictions.

Nero & Sparda

It was quite the strange proposition you received from the great Lord Sparda, which is apparently rather normal in demon high society, though there it is not so much a proposition as a forced encounter. Nevertheless, here you were, having both Lord Sparda and his grandson Nero performing a practice bonding ritual on you meant as a way for a demon (or part demon in Nero’s case) to mark their partners. When Sparda had first explained this to you both, he talked of the benefits of a bond. How, even if one was monogamous, this way they could leave their scent on their partner to ward off predator demons. What he did not tell you is how intense it would be.

“That’s it, get as deep as you can.” Sparda encouraged, though it probably did not register for Nero who was bent over you rutting into you like a wild beast. Nero was at your front while Sparda was behind you. Or, to be most specific, you were practically lying on top of Sparda who was holding you in place while also thrusting up into you. The two men were sharing the same whole, stretching you beyond what you have felt before. Thankfully you were given plenty of prep. Still, it was a shock to the senses as Nero’s cock jammed in as far as it could, practically kissing your womb with his tip, while Sparda’s thrusts were more shallow as he aimed for your g-spot. “And then, right at the peak, you need to bite down where her neck and shoulder meet.” Sparda did not intend to do this, but hearing your cries of pleasure, feeling your body against his, and smelling your scent, led him to give a demonstration. He was still conscious enough to not actually create a bonding mark without your consent, but his teeth still bore down on you, leaving a mark of lust as he spilled his seed into the condom he was wearing.

Nero watched intently. He was coated in a sheen of sweat, his eyes were misty, his fangs were out, and his tongue went between, lolled out and licking his lips as he looked at you.

“Wanna do it, wanna mark, please.” He begged both you and Sparda. His thrusts got more uneven as he chased his own peak, one that could only be quenched by the demonic tradition of marking and bonding. “Please, please, please.”

“I understand Nero, but we must not pressure her into making that decision in the throws of passion.” Sparda pointed out. With his own lust satisfied, at least for the moment, he let go of your hips and instead wrapped his large hands around your neck. He did not put any pressure on your neck and he let you move and bend freely. He was not restraining you but protecting you, acting as a shield so that wherever Nero did bite, he would not bind you to an unbreakable vow. You can decide if and when that happens when you are a little more sane. Right now Nero was looking down at you like you were a delicious treat and he was starving.

“Yes, need it, need you… forever~”

==+==+==

This didn’t turn out quite the way I intended it to but oh well. Also, I almost switched this to being the Dante & Sparda story but then I switched it back to Nero.

V & Sparda

Tonight was supposed to be your chance to witness the most regal side of society. A ball where everyone was dressed in exuberant gowns and suits, a live orchestra was playing the music, and everything shimmered in the extravagant marble scenery and jewels adorning everything and everyone. However, your dance partners were making it hard to focus.

“You’re losing the tempo my songbird.” Says V in his silky smooth, deep voice as he dips you low. “Though I suppose it is hard to keep a beat when your heart is fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird.” One of V’s hands glides up from your side to your chest so he can feel your heartbeat, but with the squeeze he gave you it was clear what his true goals were. Before you can respond V pulls you upright again and sends you towards your other dance partner who is quick to press up against your back and wrap his arms around you to stop anyone from interrupting the sensual dance between you three.

“I do hope you are not overwhelmed, my dear,” Sparda says, his voice a bit deeper than V’s but with a more gentlemanly cadence to it. Sparda was much taller than you, standing at 7 feet tall, so when he grasped your chin with his gloved hands and made you look at him, your head had to be tilted up and pressed against his chest. “Your face is red and your breathing…” He gently runs his thumb over your lips, making the sensitive skin tingle,  “it is heavy.” His other hand glides down your torso and stops just above your sex, his fingertips just barely brushing over where your clit would be, and he pulls you tighter against him.

“Ah, you must be overheating.” V comments, drawing so close that he is on the cusp between it being appropriate and inappropriately close. “Let us step outside for some fresh, cool night air.”

You are swept away from the crowd of attendees towards a large balcony on the side of the building that does not face any garden or place where people could mill about alone. It faced out into a seemingly endless ocean sparkling in the moonlight. As you walk both men keep their hands on you, one resting on, and slowly groping your bottom while the other flicks at your bra strap over your clothes, as if threatening to undo it. Just before stepping out, Sparda made a motion towards the guards who quickly went to work closing the curtains and lining up at the door so no one could disturb you three.

“There, now we are free from that stuffy, stifling atmosphere.” V’s choice of words and tone indicated that it was not simply the obsessive heat he was glad to get away from.

“And yet our darling still seems a bit dazed,” Sparda says as he, along with V, leads you to the marble railing. Swiftly they turn you to face them, press your backside to the railing, and trap you there by each placing a hand on the railing on either side of you. “I fear it is the weight of your extravagant and voluminous gown that is the cause.”

“I agree. We must strip you of some of your layers songbird. I will start with your bodice.”

“And I with begin with your garters.”

==+==+==

This started with Sparda and V just using their voices, since V had a sexy voice and I like to imagine Sparda as a gentlemanly, slightly British, voice also on the deep side. Then I started to think of what scenario could facilitate this and somehow got to dancing. Then it evolved into this. Fancy boys pretending to be fancy while they do naughty things.

Dante & Nelo Angelo

Things had developed in such a strange way that it was hard to wrap your brain around. One moment Dante and you were preparing to fight the armored being that appeared from the mirror in the castellan's private bedroom. The next you were desperately trying to jog the memory of the man inside that was clearly brainwashed. He still seemed to recognize you though as he had zeroed in on you right away and removed his helmet for you. And when he had suddenly grabbed your side and used his absurd strength to lift you like a doll and force his lips upon you, Dante knew what he had to do to save his brother.

“Come on Vergil, you remember this, right?” Dante said as he held your legs open by locking his own legs atop yours. One of his hands was holding up your top to show your breasts still sitting in your bra while his other hand, having already pulled off your underwear, was stoking and holding open your lower lips. “You’ve been in this pussy before. Remember how warm and tight it was? You used to love it.”

Nelo Angelo, as was his new name, was focused on your core. The way your slick glistened on Dante’s fingers and your body, and how your entrance flexed in nervous anticipation. He strode closer and climbed onto the bed you and Dante were on, his size and weight caused the bed to dip. He knelt there for a moment, then, like his helmet before, another part of his armour disappeared in a flash of flames, causing his cock to spring free. Nelo Angelo was larger than the man you had known before, about 1½ times larger, and that has applied to his manhood which was now as thick as your wrist and as long as your forearm.

“Oh shit.” Dante murmured, though because he was pressed up against your back you could hear his shock loud and clear. “Alright sweetie, you ready to take one for the team?”

The initial penetration was tough, with your body twitching and the wind getting knocked out of you. And when Nelo Angelo started moving the sound of his deep grunts was drowned out by your own voice crying out in pleasure and pain. Dante had to hold you in place while Nelo Angelo lost himself in the familiar feeling of your inner walls clamping down around him. In the meantime, Dante whispered words of encouragement to you and stroked your clit to heighten your own pleasure. And for all this work, you were rewarded with your insides being coated in Nelo Angelo’s hot seed, and a wavering voice calling you by a familiar pet name.

“Darling?”

==+==+==

Your pussy has saved Nelo Angelo, congrats! lol

Vergil & Nelo Angelo

You were sandwiched between two men that, though from different periods of Vergil’s life, were the same man and still similar in most ways. And yet by having them both embracing the person they love the most made one act vastly different. Nelo Angelo treated you in the usual way, thrusting into you with quick precision, using his strength to hold you in place with just enough force to make it sting a little and not speaking as he was confident in his skills to please you, though that last bit was also due to the fact that he could not speak words. Vergil though…

Vergil was treating this like a competition, which in it of itself was not that surprising. The strange part was with how unsure he seemed. Perhaps it was due to being faced with himself at his weakest, or the fact that you, the one person whose opinion he cares most for, are seeing him in the weak state. Whatever the reason, he was acting more desperate. His usually strong grip was instead a gentle embrace, which, when paired with Nelo’s strong thrust, caused both Vergil and you to bounce rhythmically. His usual tight lip, open only to steal kisses and mark you with his teeth, were now split between peppering your face, neck, and chest with kisses, and saying things that were demanding, yet bordering on pathetic due to the tone.

“Darling, look at me,” Vergil said, trying to sound like his usual demanding self but instead sounding like a plea. You barely open your eyes before Nelo Angelo, going off of pure instinct, grabs your chin, forces you to turn your head, and kisses you with a strong, almost suffocating passion. “Darling.” Vergil breathed, barely subduing the tremor in his voice. His own lips dart forward, kissing your cheek then trailing down your jaw, and neck, and finally landing on the middle of your chest where your heart was. His hips also picked up the pace, though they weren’t as strong as Nelo Angelo’s. Between each kiss, Vergil demanded your attention. “Here darling. Look at me. Listen to me. Hear me. Focus on the man who drives you crazy with lust and love, body, mind, and soul. The one that has claimed you. The one you love… right?”

==+==+==

I kind of lost track of what I was doing on this one TBH. Since Vergil has trauma about his time as Nelo Angelo I wanted to utilize that but I did not want to make it too intense. I originally had Vergil break down more to the point of crying, but that seemed out of character.

Nero & Nelo Angelo

Both you and Nero were frazzled but that did not stop Nelo Angelo from picking you both up. Nero instinctually started clawing and cussing but did nothing to impact Nelo Angilo’s mostly armoured body. Nero was dropped down onto the large desk and before he could reorient himself and his new position, his legs were pushed open and you were shoved down on top of him. Now you and Nero were chest to chest, laying on the table, with your legs between his. Nelo Angelo made a grunting sound as his hand, thankfully not covered in armour, grabbed Nero’s semi-hard cock and pulls it out from between you two so he can rub the tip against your still-loose entrance.

“Ya, ya, I get it.” Nero grumbles. He was having a great time but this Nelo Angelo guy was so demanding. “Yo, babe, can you lift your hips real quick?” Nero asks you as he wraps one arm around you, his hand landing on your ass to give it a good few gropes, while his other drifts down between you two. When you do as asked he quickly positions himself so that when you go back down you will take him in. However instead of slowly, teasingly grinding down, Nelo Angelo places his hand on your lower back and shoves down, forcing Nero to impale you in one go. Thankfully you have been stretched beforehand, but that jolt of pleasure and lingering pain still shot through you, making your arms and legs weak. All of your weight falls down on Nero for a moment who uses his now free hand to hold your back. “Jesus christ, you okay?” he asks you despite also having been shot with sensation as you suddenly engulfed his manhood.

Nelo Angelo makes a pleased groaning sound before he grabs Nero’s leg and pulls on them, making it so both you and Nero were hanging off the table below the belt. Your body was properly bent over the table, your torso and face safeguarded from the wooden platform by Nero’s body, with your legs hanging down but not quite touching the floor. Nero was lying face up, his upper body supported by the table while his lower body only held aloft by Nelo Angelo’s grip on his legs. Nelo Steps forward a bit and, without warning, shoved his fingers into your back door to start stretching it.

With Nelo Angelo’s fingers now exploring, stroking, and scissoring open your insides, your body instinctively reacted accordingly. It was like you were his puppet that he could make twist, jerk, raise, lower, and buck with the simplest movements of his fingers. And with each movement made a domino effect to Nero, due to his position and lack of energy after the previous couple rounds, could only hold your body as it moved against and around him. Even his legs were rendered pretty useless to him as Nelo Angelo held them aloft and used them almost like leashes to hold you two in place. It was a very pleasurable break for him, allowing him to gather the energy for when it was his turn next to be on top.

==+==+==

I thought about how a bunch of these focus a lot on the setup and decided I wanted a few more that were PWP.

V & Nelo Angelo

With all the thrashing and grunts of rage Nelo Angelo had been doing when first pinned down by the familiars Shadow and Nightmare, it seemed like he would not accept the next step of the process. Yet the moment you lowered your crotch onto his lips he calmed down. It was as if your warmth and scent had pacified him to an extent. It still took some time to get him to start moving though.

“That’s it songbird, keep going.” V encouraged, giving your hands a squeeze. “Let him taste your nectar. Let your love flow into him and break the chains Mundus has over his heart and mind.” V stood before you, above Nelo Angelo’s head, holding either of your hands. You were palm-to-palm with him as he did his best to keep you steady and focused. However, it was his mind that was drifting from the task at hand. In making sure things were going as intended, V had to look down at where you and Nelo Angelo were connected. Watching the way Nelo Angelo’s lips moulded to your form, how his tongue varied from long strokes to quick flicks, it was tantalizing and stirred jealousy in the pit of his stomach. “Songbird.” V breathed, his words short and vague but his tone spoke of his desires, as did the growing in his pants. With you sitting on Nelo Angelo’s face, you were at the perfect hight.

When witnessing the extent of V’s desire, Nelo Angelo seemed to recognize the spark of excitement and confidence in you. As V rushed to push his pants down enough to free his manhood with one hand, since he refused to fully let go of you, Nelo Angelo’s mouth became more aggressive and his arms lifted and wrap around your legs so he could pull you down harder onto him. The moment your lips touched V’s sensitive skin, a jolt went through him and he let out a low groan.

“That’s it, my love, let me show you love as you do for your poor knight.” With one hand still holding yours, V’s other combed through your hair, pulling you close as a subtle attempt to make you take more of him it. This chain of pleasure continued as such with Nelo Angelo holding you in place no matter how you trembled, cried out, or came.

==+==+==

I’m losing steam and I am not even halfway done 🙃 .

Dante & Credo

“How dare you!” Credo snapped as he glared at you through the bars of solitary confinement. This barely slowed Dante down though.

“Just having some fun,” Dante said, flashing Credo a sly grin before focusing on you again. He gripped your hips a bit tighter and changed his angle so that the next time he thrust into you the slap of skin hitting skin and the squelching of liquids was lewd to an almost obnoxious level just to bother Credo more. Your upper body was bent forward, your hands gripping the cell bars to hold yourself up as Dante showed little mercy.

“Do you two have any shame?” Credo argued, yet he could not look away from the display in front of him. “You are prisoners for attacking His Holiness, this is not some broth- HEY!” Credo was cut off when you reached through the bars, slipped your hand under his uniform coat, and grabbed the belt holding his pants up. Credo grabbed your wrist to stop you, yet did not pry your hand off. You could feel his hand shaking a bit.

Dante let out an impressed whistle. “Feelin’ frisky today, hu baby? Alright, I’ll play along.” Dante, using his impressive height, reached over you and also between the cell bars. He grabs the flap of Credo’s uniform jacket that was covering his crotch and lifts it. He also used that to pull Credo closer, making Credo release your wrist so he could brace himself on the cell bars.

“What is the matter with you both? Cease this at once!” Credo threatened, yet did not truly fight back. There were ways he could break free, he had a weapon and his angelic form. He could easily fight you off enough to get free. Instead, he watched as you undid his belt and pulled down his pants enough to let his semi-hard cock free. The grip he had on the bars tightened to the point that his knuckles turned white and started to burn when your hand stroked his cock, your thumb brushing over the tip to encourage precum to come out. And when you finally took him into your warm mouth he failed to stifle a guttural groan of pleasure.

“That’s it baby.” Dante praised, smirking as if you and he had just won a battle. He let go of Credo, correctly guessing that Credo would no longer pull away now that your tongue was dragging along the underside of his shaft and returned his hands to your hips. Dante started his hip movements again with vigour, spurred on by your muffled moans, gasps, and gagging sounds. Each thrust of Dante’s hips bounced you forward, making you take Credo in deeper.

Credo’s mind was a battlefield between his alliance to The Order of the Sword and the burning pleasure he was feeling. But when he realized that he had unconsciously started bucking his hips forward into your mouth, he knew he had lost. He just prayed that no one would catch him down here like this or find it suspicious when he would return daily to check in on the prisoners.

==+==+==

Credo is honestly the hardest for me to write, so coming up with ideas for him is hard for me. Hopefully, this is okay. I wanted to play with how outgoing Dante is with sex and affection while Credo is less open, or at least that is the assumption since we never see him react to sexual things in DMC4. Maybe in the novel, there is a moment where he is faced with things of sexual nature, but I doubt it.

Vergil & Credo

When you looked down you could see your chest clear as day due to the low cut, loose neckline of the silky dress you had been gifted and ordered to be put on. If you try to adjust it though, your hand will get a sharp whip.

“Hands down.” Came Credo’s order as he used the end of his crop to push your hand down.  “You are to stand straight and hold your head high. Stand your ground with pride and confidence.”

“And if you don’t, you know what will happen.” Added Vergil as he stalked around you in a circle. He was rhythmically smacking his upturned palm hard enough to make a sound that was both tantalizing and threatening. “So raise your head and eyes.” Vergil tucked the tip of his crop under your chin and used it to push your head up. “Focus on your masters. Thank us for our wonderful gift.” He said, referring to the wrap dress you were in that was held together by ribbon. It was silky and cool, a great contrast and soothing element to how heated your skin gets when being struck. But it was also weak, as Credo demonstrates by easily pushing it aside to slide his crop tip in through the part.

“If not, then we may just take it back.” Credo pressed the leathery tip against your lower abdomen, just below your underwear waistband. A clear indication of where you would next be receiving punishment.

==+==+==

I originally had this weird idea of setting this back in time when Vergil visited Fortuna and have this thing where you were dating Credo and Vergil was like a god and gifting you and Credo with the next child of the Sparda bloodline. It was weird and the timeline definitely would not match up and Credo would be Nero’s adoptive/half dad, and it was a mess. Thankfully I switched to this idea where I showcase and utilize the men’s dominating, commanding personalities.

Nero & Credo

Once the anger and adrenalin had faded from their battles and survived Sanctus Diabolica’s crazed destruction for godlike power, only fear remained in Nero and Credo: the fear of you. They knew you would be upset and hurt at the two men you love most in the world nearly killing each other and getting killed by a man with power Credo helped him obtain. And to add salt to the wound, they were both stuck in hospital beds barely able to move. They would recover in time, but for now, they were at the mercy of you. They expected tears, accusations, shouting, or, worst case scenario, a breakup. What they were not expecting was the punishment.

“Fuck, please, you're killing me.” Nero panted, using what little strength and movement ability to desperately jerk his hips up in hopes of penetrating your entrance that you so cruelly pressed and rubbed against the tip of his hard-on. However, due to not having the use of his hands so not being able to properly aim and hold steady as he pushes through your entrance, his cock slip and slides along your skin. “Let me in babe, please.” His pleas were ignored though.

“You’ve done enough, we understand our faults.” Credo tried to reason with you through gritted teeth. He had enough control to not fruitlessly thrust up as he knew you would not let his cock slip betwixt your beautiful lips. You would kiss, lick, and tease his shaft at an agonizingly slow pace until you deemed that they had sufficiently suffered. “Cease this ridiculous tantrum-” With a simple pull, the belt around the base of Credo’s dick stopping him from cuming tightened, silencing him in an instant. His back arched off the bed and the gasp he let out sounded suspiciously like a moan. The torture for him was twofold as he both hated being denied release yet also was further aroused by your harsh treatment.

“God damn it.” Nero cussed as you use your lower body to stroke his cock but did not give him the satisfaction of being pulled into your warmth. “I’m sorry babe, I’m fuckin’ sorry okay? I was stupid and rash. I shot first and asked questions later, that was wrong.” Nero finally broke down.

“Y-yes, I need to apologize.” Credo panted, his face turned away in shame at admitting his wrongdoing and defeat. “I was blinded by my faith, putting everyone in danger and hurting you. I’m sorry.”

There was a suspenseful pause, Credo and Nero’s bodies and minds still buzzing, hoping that by giving in they would be rewarded.

“H-hey, where the hell are you going?” Nero stammered as you pulled away from them.

“You can’t leave us here like this,” Credo argued as you began to walk away, only bothering to throw a blanket over each of them to cover their still sensitive manhoods.

“You can’t just blueball us like this!”

“I order you to come back… HEY!”

Their shouts and then disgruntled grumbles could be heard all through the house, a victory tune of sorts and something that will be burned into Nero and Credo’s minds from now on so they know never to do such a thing to you again.

==+==+==

I was trying a new dynamic/kink with this one. Not sure if I did it well but I’ll get better with more practice.

V & Credo

Credo’s breathing was long and deep to take in enough air despite the bindings around his bare chest, neck, and arms and his eyes glanced up at the statue of the saviour in the opera house. In his mind, he prayed for forgiveness and understanding, but when you gave the order to kneel, his heart and body did so without hesitation.

V, on the other hand, had no shame or hint of doubt. He knelt for you, the being more precious and sacred to him than any deity. The red jute rope you have used to tie up his body, the way it twisted and folded over itself in intricate patterns, how it restrained his movements, the way your hands had glided over his painted body, it was all a sinful bliss that was more pleasurable and beautiful than any work of art he has encountered before.

And then there was you, sitting atop the stage with more rope in your hands. You could wrap a piece around their heads to gag them, tie their thighs to their calves so they couldn’t stand, hell you could use the ropes to suspend them in the air if you so desired. No matter what you chose to do though, the men before you, with faces as red as the ropes that bound them and eyes hazy with lust, would do anything you asked of them. Even if you ask them to stay still as the heel of your shoe presses down on the bulge of their pants.

V lets out a long, deep moan as his eyes fully closed and his back arches. Credo grits his teeth and turns his head away, as if he could mask the pleasure he felt at submitting to you like this. His hips gave away his inner desires though as they lifted up, forcing more pressure between your foot and his prick.

These two are at your mercy, like two followers desperate for their saviour to bless them. However, unlike Sparda, your sinful gifts were actually given and are enough to drive these men wild. Even when the gift came with some pain, as it did now with you grinding your feet down, both men thanked you.

“Oh dear songbird, our mistress.” V moans, his legs twitching like an all too pleased mut while Credo leans forward to kiss your legs as thanks, his teeth occasionally nipping at your clothes as a hint that he wishes to pull them from your delicious skin. “Thank you for this gift. Please, allow us to pay back your kindness. Let us shower you in the pleasure you deserve. Let us worship you.”

==+==+==

Initially, the only idea I had was the general theme of was religious or sacrilegious since Credo is a devout follower of The Order of the Sword and V has a poetic, old-fashioned, intelligent personality. However, I struggled to build an actual scene around that aside from “fuck in religious building”. Then I started thinking about Kinbaku-bi and added some religious themes and I had it. That’s how a lot of these go, I think of a very loose concept or theme based on the personalities of the two characters and then try to create a scene from it.

Dante & Urizen

You were not privy to what Dante had been planning when he told you he had a “sweet idea”, or what his twin brother Vergil had to do with it. The twins spoke, Vergil got mad, Dante laughed, Vergil huffed and gave in, then walked off “to prepare”, or so Dante had told you when he joined you on the couch again. No amount of questions or tricks gets Dante to spill the beans of his plan. He just gives you a toothy grin and tells you to “buckle up for the ride of your life”. This ride ends up being Urizen sitting on a self-made throne in an abandoned building halfway to being taken over by the forest it resides in.

“Come on baby, don’t be scared, he won’t hurt ya. And he already knows the safe words so don’t worry, just have as much fun as you can. He owes me quite a few so have your fill.” Dante shoots you a wink. Urizen lets out a groan that is more like a growl and he rolls his many eyes.

To help you relax and get into the mood, Dante starts by touching and stripping you while Urizen just observes. And when you still instinctually tense up when one of Urizen’s tentacles approaches you, the self-proclaimed demon king switches tracks.

“Woah there, getting impatient Mr. High and Mighty?” Dante teased, a rare blush painting his cheeks as a slick tentacle slid between his lower set of cheeks.

“The Ms. seems frightened of my touch. Once she sees the pleasure it can bring she will relax and enjoy herself more.” Urizen stated with as much enthusiasm as a man giving a presentation at work. But then it takes on a snide, superior tone. “Is that not what you want Dante?” It was a direct jab meant to strongarm Dante into giving in despite Urizen doing this to pay back a debt. A small way for the demon king to assert power.

“You’re not wrong,” Dante admitted, trying to keep up a confident, unbothered demeanour. “Hope you enjoy the show baby girl.”

Dante’s focus stuck to you, but between his kisses and remarks were gasps, hisses, and moans as the tentacles explored. You could feel his body jolt when Urizen first shot him with a spray of lubricant. Then, as he finally entered you, you could see the strain in his expression and how his body tensed as a tentacle also entered him. His thrusts were uneven, but not out of choice. Sometimes Urizen thrust in time with Dante, and other times he would suddenly slam into Dante, forcing him forward and into you. And when Urizen also entered your backend, he pretty much took control of the pace.

“You both fell in line so quickly.” Urizen comments as he looks down at you and Dante, both lying on your sides, surrounded by tentacles that wrap, slither, vibrate, and stroke your naked bodies in the nest of pleasure. Dante, lost in lust due to still fucking you while also being fucked, couldn’t stay still. His lips wouldn’t leave yours, giving you barely the space to breathe with his tongue, partially triggered to be longer, ravaged you. One of his hands was holding the back of your neck in a possessive gesture while his other arm was holding one of your legs up, making it easier for both him and Urizen to thrust into you. “You creatures are slaves to lust.”

==+==+==

This one I started with a vague idea of Dante starting the threesome for fun and also being fucked by tentacles. I began writing and was like “I’ll figure it out as I go”. I then proceeded to create a story progression as wiggling as one of Urizen’s tentacles that has not the best structure. Oh well, hope you like the mental images.

Vergil & Urizen

As your consciousness drifts back to the waking world, you are met with the chatter of many creatures speaking in their own ways yet are somehow communicating. None were speaking to you, not out of malice or disrespect though. They simply did not realize their queen was awake. They were addressing their rulers, one of which you were snuggled up against while he was snug inside you.

“And have you delivered the message to the Fire Hell that their days are numbered if they don’t comply?” Asked Vergil to whatever demon servant was present. His warm breath glided over your hair when he spoke, tickling the nerves ever so slightly. Both his arms were down on the armrests of his thrown as if you being in his lap came as naturally to him as wearing clothes.

To be fair, you spent more time in one of their laps than in your seat. You had your own place, but your husbands both preferred you use them as your thrown, draped in sheer cloth and jewels like a living sculpture that is to be witnessed, marveled, and longed for by all, but not approached as only Urizen and Vergil has the right to touch you.

When your brain processed the limp cock still buried inside of you, your insides unconsciously clench down. The sensation of your inner walls constricting around him made Vergil groan, one hand clenching his armrest while the other snapped up to grasp your already stained and torn clothes.

“Our queen has awakened.” Came Urizen’s gravelly voice, the mere tone being enough to silence everyone else in the room. His head turns towards you, as do most of his eyes. A few keep watching to make sure no one dares approach you. “Leave us.” He makes a sweeping arm motion over the crowd of people who all tense up, sensing the threat in his command. Despite the impending pain if they disregard his orders, all eyes turn to you for the final decision. It isn’t until you give the okay that all your underlings scatter. Within the minute everyone but you and your pair of kings had left. Now alone, Urizen’s stance, tone, and movements became more relaxed and softer. He reached a hand out toward you slowly so as not to startle you and ran his pointed fingers through your hair, smoothing it down and giving a pleasant scratch. He leaned on one arm of his thrown, towering over you and Vergil, though Vergil was not intimidated by him at all. “How are you? Now too overworked I hope.”

“Definitely still tight enough.” Vergil jumps in, his lips twisted up into an all too pleased grin.

“Being shaped to fit your lovers perfectly is quite the feat.” Urizen compliments as his hand drags down your back. One finger curled under you to poke at where Vergil and you were still connected.

“There is still a lack of energy and strength though.” Vergil becomes a bit more serious as he tucks a finger under your chin and lifts your head, only for it to flop down as soon as he lets go. “I little pick-me-up is needed.”

Urizen gives a nod then pulls his hand away. With his hand as a baton, he controls the roots and branches of the Qliphoth tree, which is what makes up your home and most of the furniture in it. From the ceiling descends a branch with but one fruit on it. One is more than enough for you though. In fact you aren’t even fed the whole thing since it is so hard to grow one. Instead, Urizen uses his claw-like fingers to penetrate the apple-like fruit and cut out a chunk. As soon as the skin is broken, a small fountain of liquid, the colour and power of human blood but with the ripe taste, somewhat like both a sweet apple and a peach, comes pouring out. Urizen and Vergil both make sure said liquid splashes onto you.

“Eat my queen,” Urizen says not as an order, but a request, which is a privilege only you are gifted. “you need your strength for the next round.”

Vergil gently lifts your head towards the fruit piece, leaving you to open your mouth and chew at your own pace. Once you start regaining some energy, with you now being able to sit up on your own, Vergil and Urizen’s attentions shift. Vergil leans in and starts licking up the rivets of juice flowing down from your lips and where you had been sprayed. Urizen, using his powers to lift Vergil’s thrown so you could all be at eye level, does the same. Vergil uses his smaller form to clean harder-to-reach places like your neck, face, and ears. Urizen, on the other hand, takes long sweeping licks along your back, chest, stomach, and lower. With the mixture of intimacy and the power gained from the fruit of the Qliphoth tree, your energy not only refilled but began to overflow. All this energy would be needed though as you could feel Vergil’s cock growing stiff inside of you and Urizen’s tongue starting to lap at your sensitive spots despite having already cleaned off the juice from there.

It was going to be another long day for you all.

==+==+==

I wanted to go for a regal, supervillain overlord kind of thing without being too gross about it. Hopefully, that came across. Also, though I can’t actually decide how the reader feels or reacts to things or that would take people out of it, I also tried to at least imply that the reader here willingly chose to be the Queen for these two Kings, not a kidnapping victim or forced marriage or anything like that. I hope that also got across without taking anyone out of the story too much.

Nero & Urizen

Nero had charged in with good intentions, but his blind rage at seeing you at the mercy of the self-proclaimed Demon King had made his fighting sloppy and left him open. Within minutes Nero was in the same predicament as you, held aloft by tentacles that slithered under his clothes. He thrashed and cursed, but he was outmatched in strength and limbs as he was pulled closer to Urizen sat atop his thrown.

Urizen, for his part, had been oddly interested in you, watching you squirm, pant, and moan as his tentacles explored your body. He could feel you through the tentacles, your warmth, your softness, even your scent. It was captivating to him, stirring something within him other than a lust for power that he had never felt in his short existence. When Nero had entered the equation, he saw such a pitiful creature as nothing but a nuisance and distraction, so pined him down just to stop him. The tentacles did the same exploration to Nero purely because Urizen was so focused on feeling and revealing your body that the other tentacles, with no real orders, did the same to their captives. Nero was of no interest to him, that is until you moaned out Nero’s name. Your body, though already sensitive to the tentacles, reacted differently when you bore witness to Nero’s begrudging pleasure.

“You mean something to this woman,” Urizen said, some of his eyes turning to look at Nero, his voice the usual gruff gravitas but with an underlining sense of intrigue and jealousy.

“Fuck you.” Was Nero’s response to this, his breath heavy as he tried to repress the waves of pleasure he received from the tentacles flicking at his nipples and coiling around his painfully hard cock. Urizen did not grace Nero with further words, instead turning his attention back to you and the way your pussy clenched and dripped not just from the tentacle massaging your clit but from watching Nero’s penis be stroked and his chiseled chest being revealed as a tentacle ripped the fabric of his shirt open. This rush in you… it was beautiful to Urizen. It ignited feelings and sensations in Urizen that he could not understand yet but knew that he needed more.

The tentacles brought you and Nero closer together and worked to find what ways they could touch you to heighten the desire between you two. The experimentation grew more intense and brought you closer together until the preverbal pieces fit together.

“The hell do you think you're doing jackass?” Nero asked as you were twisted into a horizontal position and your legs were pulled open. When Nero was brought closer, nestled between your legs, realization hinted Nero. “No, fuck off, what is wrong with you!?” Nero cursed, thrashed, and fought harder than before, but was ignored but Urizen who was wholly focused on how your body reacted to Nero’s body being put between your legs. The tentacle coiled around Nero’s cock pulled away but stayed close enough to aim the prick towards your core. There was no stopping what was about to happen. “I’m sorry,” Nero said in a mix of a moan and a whimper. He felt he had to, not only for what was about to happen, but also because of how excited he was for it, how much he wanted you from the moment he stepped into the room and saw you being pleasured. His jealous anger was going to be satisfied, and he hated how quickly he gave in.

==+==+==

Just like the Nero & Vergil part last time, the base idea of being forced to fuck by a giant has been in my brain for years. Now I get to use it. Thank you Nero for letting me get all these weird thoughts out of my head, lol.

V & Urizen

“It’s alright my love.” V coos affectionately as he stroked your hair and held your head to his chest. “There is no need to panic, you know I would never let anything harm you. Thrashing around like that will only make things harder on you. So just relax and let it happen.” He grabs one of your legs and gently moves it to spread your legs, giving more room for the tentacles to move, prod, and release onto your core.

“You are far too tight,” Urizen said trying to sound intimidating though it teetered on sounding like a disgruntled grumble, which was more accurate to what he was feeling. He could feel through the tentacles. It was as if his own finger was sliding betwixt your folds, spreading the lubricant both he and you were creating around, and gently pressing against your entrance, desperate to be let in. “Is this not enough slick? Do you require more?” Suddenly the tentacle pulled back and released a large spray of slickness that covered not just your core, but also splashed onto your stomach, chest, and onto V as well. At least it smelled sweet, like fruit.

“So impatient.” V chuckled as he whipped off the slick that had hit him with his long, thin fingers. “My apologies love, my other half did not inherit any of my grace or understanding of anticipation.” V lifted his fingers to your mouth, motioning for you to lick him clean. The slick also tasted of fruits and had a healing and energizing quality to it. Clearly V wanted you to keep up your energy for the long haul. As you accepted his offering, he looked up at Urizen. “Our precious darling is used to the manhood of us when we are one. This is a new experience for them and it will take a lot of gentle coaxing.” Once you finish cleaning off his fingers, V uses his hand to grab one of yours and bring it to his cock, making you wrap your fingers around the already hard shaft and start stroking. “Just take things slow my dear and focus on me.”

For a while you did, getting into a rhythmic pattern. Sadly it was harshly shattered when one of Urizen’s tentacles slammed into you, forcing itself through your now-relaxed muscles before they could clench up again. Urizen had gotten impatient, and honestly rather jealous of his other half, so took matters into his own hands. Thankfully the penetration did not hurt all that much and was more so shocking. Still, V shot Urizen a glare.

“Clearly you lack the ability to listen as well.” V held you a little closer to his chest as if he would shield you from the feeling of the tentacle twisting, sliding, and exploring your insides like a snake looking for a place to borrow.

“Silence,” Urizen spoke in defiance, a somewhat satisfied smile coming to his lips as he watched your reaction and felt your moist heat wrapped tightly around him through the tentacle. “They are fine. Besides, going so slow and delicate will never prepare her for the real test.” Urizen sat back a bit and started stroking his own cock which was the size of your whole arm.

“Alright.” V sighed, his free hand moving down to stroke your stomach soothingly. “I suppose he is right my love. I apologize for the rough treatment. Although, we did warn you when you requested to have all of Vergil, the good, the bad, the romantic, the animalistic, the rough, and the gentle.”

==+==+==

I wrote this instead of going to sleep on time for work the next day. I make good, healthy decisions.

Urizen & Nelo Angelo

The impact of Nelo Angelo being thrown to the ground shook the room along with your eardrums due to the thud and shout of pain from the fallen dark knight.

“Is this truly what you crave?” Urizen asked with unprecedented rage. The sight of him at his weakest is an insult as is, but to see your desire to help this insignificant weakling has set him spiralling. “You wish to waste your time saving this pathetic creature? Fine then, prove for yourself how inferior it is.” You, being held in Urizen’s hand, were shoved down onto Nelo Angelo.

Thankfully Urizen had already forcefully ripped most of Nelo Angelo’s armour off so you weren’t pressing your chest against hot demonic metal. On the other hand, Nelo Angelo had spent so long in the armour that feeling your skin on his cold, pale skin sent a jolt through him. He took in a heavy gasp that turned into a moan as the breath was released. Feeling anyone was more intimate than he had felt in a decade, but the fact that it was you was enough to get him hard.

You had been told by V, who was the one that suddenly appeared with Nelo Angelo in tow, that making love to him would bring him back to his senses. Urizen had caught you at the beginning of this process and his reaction was visceral. Still, the chance of saving Nelo Angelo was there and it wasn’t like Urizen was going to let you two go, so the process continued.

Nelo Angelo, battered, bruised, and confused, struggled to participate in the lovemaking, but at least he reciprocated. When you kissed him he kissed back. When you wrapped your arms around him as best you could, his arms would snake around you as well. And once you two have joined and your hips start rolling, Nelo Angelo moves in the same rhythm so his cock can be buried as deep inside you as possible. This, however, ends up being both your undoing.

Urizen watches as you two grow closer, more intimate, and it infuriates him further. Suddenly, just as you were about you reach your peak, Urizen’s fingers wrap around your body and rips you away from Nelo Angelo.

“Your essence will not to be wasted on scum like that.” Urizen uses his other hand to press one of his fingers against your needy hole desperate to be filled back up. One of Urizen’s fingers, though thinner than Nelo Angelo’s hardened cock, greedily took the job. He did not give you time to adjust to the change in size and shape though as his finger fucked you quickly and roughly. “You are not to waste your body on trash like that. You belong to someone superior. You belong to me.” Urizen growled.

And as you are practically dragged to the peak of ecstasy, you look down at Nelo Angelo still splayed out on the floor, his cock hard and but a sliver of recognition in his eyes that was fading without your embrace.

==+==+==

I was going for a mean, sad, angry sex kind of feeling which I think I did get across, but does that make it not sexy anymore? I’m kind of just sad now.

Nelo Angelo & Credo

Credo knew of Nelo Angelo before he appeared on the island, having been subject to Agnus’ rantings and raving, so was prepared to test his combat skills with him. But fate had a different idea. Nelo Angelo had no interest in fighting, only throwing aside any creature or thing that got in his way as he marched towards his goal, the one thing his heart and broken mind were still clinging to, you. The Order of the Sword, seeing this as an opportunity to gain more knowledge and power, used you as bait and trapped you in a room with Nelo Angelo with a wall made of glass so your interaction could be observed. The one saving grace you were given, if only to make sure you survive long enough for data to be collected, was Credo. Unbeknownst to everyone but yourself, you were now trapped in a room with your past and current loves, both feeding off of each other’s aggression and desire to dominate and win you over.

“You damned demon, you’re hurting her!” Credo said, his voice distorted from being in his angelic form, as he used his shield arm to force a wedge between you and Nelo Angelo.

The sudden intrusion caused Nelo Angelo to halt his movements and release your legs from the spread eagle he had put you in. His cock slid out of you, but with how long you have been ravaged your core did not tighten and close right away. It stayed open a bit, framed by red, raw skin from Nelo Angelo’s armour, leaving it so very empty and sore. This was something Credo could not bear to see.

Without a word, Credo replaced Nelo Angelo in front of you and between your legs like it was his right and duty to care for you. It was not aftercare he provided though. Instead, his own manhood, lengthened and hardened more than usual due to his angelic form, filled up your empty hole. Though his penis was harder than Nelo Angelo’s, the rest of him was softer. The feathers surrounding his thighs and lining either side of his crotch were silky and pillowy, providing relief like a cool water-soaked cloth on the forehead. The forced spread eagle Nelo Angelo had put you in was also dropped, letting your muscles relax as they were made to encircle Credo’s feather-covered waist. Credo’s movements were slow and precise, trained to please you in the perfect way without overexerting you. It was a break from Nelo Angelo’s rougher treatment, though it did not last forever.

Soon Nelo Angelo became impatient. He grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you to lay down on your back over the table in the room, your head hanging upside-down off it. You get a glimpse of the glass wall where The Order of the Sword’s scientists are watching the scene unfold before Nelo Angelo blocks your view, his arousal hanging in front of your mouth waiting to be let in.

As you are about to be taken at both ends, an uncertainty hangs in the air. How long will this testing go on for?

==+==+==

I had an initial idea but then I thought about a fanfiction I read on Tumblr where the reader and Leon Kennedy, infected with the Las Plagas, are put in a room to be studied as Leon ravages reader and tries to impregnate her. I forgot who wrote it and I can’t find it! :< But if I find it again or if someone recognizes it and can send it to me, I will link it here. I really liked that story and decided that that kind of scenario would fit best with Credo and Nelo Angelo so I switched it. I’ll use the original idea for a different pair.

Credo & Urizen

Urizen is sitting on his throne. In front of him stood Credo in his angelic form. Credo’s legs shook and his hands flexed, itching to pounce on you. You were kneeling on the floor panting and shaking, drenched in the slick from Urizen’s tentacles. The substance soaked into the shreds that were once your clothes, making them somewhat transparent and cling to your dirty skin, but thankfully smelt pleasant to you. To Credo through it, along with your own scent, was a pheromone, an intense aphrodisiac that was infecting his mind and body, demanding him to step closer.

“Go my general,” Urizen urges, though with his natural voice, it sounds like an order. “Look into the eyes of the person whom you have desired for so long but contradictory human beliefs told you you could not have and unleash onto them all of the lust they have caused in you.” This was a gift, or so Urizen claimed. In reality, this was more of a bribe. Urizen had heard tales of how exceptional Credo, captain of the Holly Knights, was and strived to recruit him to his army. It had been a challenge though as Credo had clung to the idea that he was a righteous angel. What luck though that the person that Urizen had already intended to take as his own also happened to be Credo’s weakness. “Let the desire flow through you and revel in the power you now hold.”

Credo hesitated, transfixed by the way the tentacles continued to pour the liquid onto you, a waterfall of slickness that made it impossible for your hair to stay in one place but kept you on the floor in a puddle so slippery that you had no friction to stand or crawl. Urizen guides him forward using his tendrils all while continuing to encourage him to make use of this opportunity, to assert his dominance, and to relieve himself of the bottled-up desire. You look up at him, perhaps pleading for more or glaring up at him, calling him the monster you always thought he was. No matter what, all three of you… you know that no matter what you do or say, Urizen will not be letting you leave, even after you pass out from pleasure.

When Credo does finally give in, stepping forward and enacting the countless scenarios he has imagined of you while living in Fortuna, Urizen will praise him, feeling satisfied in, as he believes, how this moment has grown the bond between you all and brought you closer to accepting your role as the future queen of the demons and humans.

==+==+==

Hmm… I’m not sure about this one. I like it, but it also seems messy…

Urizen & Sparda

You have been hand-chosen by the rulers of both the underworld and the human world to aid them in a mission of the utmost importance. You were found by Lord Sparda, the man who took down the old king of the underworld, Mundus. Sparda took you to Urizen, the demon that started conquering the human world and who Sparda made truths with rather than an enemy. Both these creatures had agreed that you were perfect to carry out this critical mission. You are to be the vessel for which their heirs would be born.

“To think,” Came Urizen’s thunderous, rumbling voice as he gazed down at you cradled in his tentacles. His breath was still heavy, though, for pride's sake, he tried to hide how heart-pounding the moment had been for him. “that seeing you like this, swollen with my seed, would be so satisfying and beautiful.” He reached out a finger and gently caressed your abdomen which was now enlarged due to the egg nestled inside you.

“Well done my friend,” Sparda said both as a compliment and to gain Urizen’s attention. “Now it is my turn.” There was a bit of impatience in his tone. Urizen hesitated for a moment, reluctant to let you go so soon after, but he had made a deal. Plus, Sparda’s hunger was starting to transcend into dominating anger. You were lowered down into Sparda’s awaiting arms who cradled you to his chest in the bridal position. “There you are, my dear.” Sparda’s voice was affectionate and still held a regal edge to it. He carried you towards a platform made of soft leaves and flowers which Sparda had requested be made for this event. “You have been doing so well for us, accepting Urizen’s seed. And now…” You are laid down on the plush, natural bed and Sparda quickly slots himself between your legs. He had a fire in his eyes and his body was tense with anticipation as he reached down and started undoing his belt. “It is time for me to fertilize you.”

==+==+==

Surprisingly enough, coming up with the base idea for this was not that hard, it popped into my head really fast. What I struggled with was deciding who would give you the egg and who would fertilize it since Sparda is a demon with bug features, which lays eggs for the most part. However, he also has other animal parts like hooves and an upside-down fish mouth. Urizen has tree features. Trees do make goopy sticky things, but they reproduce with seeds, which is another form of egg. Thankfully my editor helped me choose and when I apologized for asking them weird questions about my weird stories they said “Not weird, imaginative.”. Ahhh, I love them so much!

Sparda & Credo

All you could see right now was Credo staring at you as you did both the most worshipful and sinful thing imaginable. You were a lady of the church and you had been left to start a task while Credo momentarily stepped out to grab something. However, with the express knowledge that he would soon be returning, your devotion to Sparda was being rewarded by the saviour himself. And Credo was able to fully bear witness to this giving of the gift as Sparda had a hold on your thighs, holding them open and using them as leverage to lift and lower you onto his cock. A cock, which needs to be said, was buried in your ass. Sparda’s pace was rather fast, but when he noticed Credo, he slowed to address the captain.

“Come, kneel before me,” Sparda ordered. His lips curled up into a pleased smile when Credo did as told with little hesitation. “Good. Now aid me in my mission.” Sparda pulls open your legs a bit wider to draw Credo’s attention to your currently dripping cunt which glistened with unused slick. “Let go of formalities, put aside inhibition, and embrace the natural desire within you.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The task was left purposely vague, allowing Credo to proceed as he wished. And what he wished was to taste the sweet nectar unjustly being neglected. Credo moved forward, keeping his hands on his thighs to keep his posture more polite and structured, and brought his face closer to your core. “Thank you for this gift,” he breathed just before his tongue stretched out so the tip could drag along your skin. From your lips to your inner thighs, and even down to your perineum. It was as if he was teasing himself, holding back to make the final dive between your folds all the sweeter.

“Look, my dearest,” Sparda said, his soft tone making it an encouragement rather than an order. Though his solid thrusts up into you muddled your perception of the intensity. He pressed his head up against the side of yours, nuzzling you in an affectionate, almost animalistic way. “See how he adores you. Feel what it is like to be worshiped, as you deserve.”

==+==+==

I am quickly realizing that I keep putting Credo in a similar submissive position of doing as ordered. It fits his character since he followed The Order of the Sword and Sanctus way past where a reasonable person would. And for Sparda, he does not really have a set-in-stone personality, so I just keep messing with it, lol.

Nelo Angelo & Sparda

You are surrounded by lush, silky fabrics and cushions. Your body is sunk into the bed the perfect amount and the countless pillows cushioning and circling your head is like a nest of comfort and luxury. The room is quiet, the gentle light of the morning casting through the windows but not directly on you. The distant, gentle sound of the fountain outside and birds singing can barely be heard along with the soft breaths and mouth sounds of the men showering you with affection. Nelo Angelo, free from his armour so you can see his pale skin and striking blue veins, is to your right pressing featherlight kisses along your chest while one of his hands caresses the opposite side of your chest and your side. His eyes stay closed for the most part as he focuses on bringing you soft, calm pleasure. They rarely flutter open so you can see his red orbs. Sparda lay between your legs peppering kisses along them, paying special attention to your inner thighs. His eyes remain focused on you, watching the way your body flexes and twitches in response to their combined touch and gauging your emotions to make sure you are enjoying yourself and changing tactics if you aren’t.

Everything is so soft, gentle, quiet, and smooth… it is almost enough to make you forget that you had been plucked from your normal life and locked up in the tower of the rulers of the underworld’s castle like a princess from a fairytale.

“Don’t be afraid my dear,” Sparda whispers as his kisses draw closer and closer to your sex. “Let us wash away all your concerns, fears, and responsibilities.”

Nelo Angelo shifts closer, laying lengthwise beside you so you can feel most of his body and how much bigger he is than you.

“We can do everything for you and give you anything you desire. We can drown you in luxury and passion, let you be free from any work and just enjoy the pleasures of life. All you have to do is agree to be our queen.”

==+==+==

I also wrote this one while slowly falling asleep. I had a good nap though. This is based off of this vague memory I have which I am 60% sure I imagined of the protagonist of a female-oriented show getting kidnapped by a bad guy that loved them. They chained her to the bed and tried to convince her to join him, but no NSFW stuff happened. My head tells me it was from Sailor Moon but my head also says I made that shit up. IDK, maybe someone else remembers it too.

Kat & Reboot Dante

“Are you sure about this?” Kat asked as she moved above Dante’s head. You were already impaled on his cock so Kat was the only one not yet in place.

“Fuck ya.” Dante practically panted as he looked up at Kat’s glistening cunt like a hungry dog waiting for its next meal. “Come on Kat, put all your weight on me, you know I can take it. I wanna drown in you.” One of his hands left your rolling hips to grab the space between Kat’s leg and torso, then pulled on her to encourage her to take the final plunge.

With a gulp and a deep breath, Kat lowers herself and instantly jolts when Dante’s tongue darts out to meet her. With you and her facing each other, you could see how tense her body was and how she instinctually tried to jerk away from Dante’s mouth who was not going easy on her. Her face was bright red and her eyes closed, a sign that she was still embarrassed as this was her first time being intimate with you both. As if begging for comfort, she lifted her shaky arms out to you. As you embrace, her arms wrap around your neck and she pulls you in for gentle kisses, a contrast to how intense Dante was moving beneath you both. His aggressive motions made both of you bounce, you a fair bit and her a little but she matched your movements, her chest jiggled as it pressed against yours, and even through the soft mounds, you could still feel how hard and fast her heart was pumping. You were her rock while Dante was her wave.

As for Dante? Well, he was in heaven. He had two of the smokin’ hottest people he had ever seen smothering him. In this position he had the perfect concoction of being in control and submissive, and of being the center of attention and voyeuristic viewing, or listening in his case. Kat’s and your primary pleasure was coming from him, his cock and tongue. The way you and Kat bounced and grinded against him gave him that masculine pride based in sexual prowess. He could manipulate you both, making you both stutter in your movements and let out sharp gasps and moans by suddenly slamming up into you or taking Kat’s clit between his lips and sucking harshly. At the same time, he is under you both, making his movements limited. He could move his mouth and buck his hips a bit, but if you two really wanted to you could put all your weight on him, stopping his movements, or pull away from him, leaving him needy and cold. You both were largely relying on him, yet he knew you two were satisfying each other. If he slowed his movements he could listen to the sloppy sounds of lips and tongues moving against each other desperately. He could feel from where your weight lay who was leaning in. Though it was a little frustrating that he did not actually get to see Kat groping your chest or you sucking on her tit. But he was stuck like this, unable to escape this pleasure. That was more of a blessing than a curse though, especially when you and Kat come undone on top of him for the first time, soaking his body and mind completely.

==+==+==

I did not mean to write so introspectively but here you go.

Kat & Reboot Vergil

“Don’t look so worried Kat.” Vergil said gently, reaching out his right hand to stroke her head, ending with holding the back of her head to keep her still as he leans into to kiss her temple. “I’ll take care of you.” He promises, kissing her cheek and then her lips all while his left arm was wrapped around your waist, holding you against his side. Seeing as you were all naked, every touch was skin-to-skin. And with his head turned towards Kat you had free reign to kiss and touch him if you wished. “I’ll take care of both of you.” He breathed as his lips parted from hers. He then turned to you, giving you the same treatment. “Lay down on the bed for me in whatever position is comfortable for you both.”

You and Kat climb up onto the bed and she naturally gravitates towards you, unintentionally forcing you to lay on your back so she could rest her head on your shoulder. Your warmth, your heartbeat, the way you stroked her head and shoulders, it was all comforting to her in this new experience. It was a new experience for all of you, but Vergil acted confident, like he had done this countless times before. In reality, he got off on being in control. You and Kat were at his mercy, lying down and looking up at him expectantly.

“Are you sure this is what we should do?” With each of Kat’s words, because she was pressed against you so snuggly, you could feel her breath fan over your skin. “Shouldn’t we do something?” Kat was still not used to being taken care of, even if you have all been in this relationship for a while now. It’s sadly just not the kind of life she has been subject to. This though… this was more.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Vergil verified with a soft chuckle. “Just relax and enjoy yourselves. You both know the safe words.” And so, Vergil began, gently guiding your and Kat’s legs apart. He takes the time to retrieve the bottle of lube from the side table and coat his fingers so as not to cause either of you pain. Then he gently and lovingly started to open you both up, scissoring your respective holes with either hand. He watched your body language carefully to be sure you both were enjoying his touch, even using the extra mental focus to move his hand differently to satisfy you both.

Kat was very vocal, moaning, mewling, sighing, and squealing as her body twisted and twitched in reaction to Vergil’s menstruations. Suddenly her noises stopped and she shifted. She lifted onto her arms and turned to look down at you. Her face was red in embarrassment but her eyes shone with love and longing.

“Can I… kiss you?”

==+==+==

A lot of these stories are rough and intense, but for this one I wanted it to be gentle and sweet. Kat has been through some shit, a real cinnamonroll, and I just want her to be happy and treated nicely.

[ms-demeanor]

I think the eight alarms thing is usually a maladaptation. You've trained your brain to ignore the eight alarms because you kept avoiding the training of willpower following the first alarm would require. I think some sleep therapy might help?

Hey so first of all fuck you, thanks.

Second: I love it when you read literature on sleep disorders, especially if it's on sleep disorders among folks with ADHD, and you see time and time again "when allowed to sleep on their preferred schedule subjects maintained healthy, normal, restorative sleep cycles" and "effects were not lasting without ongoing intervention; resetting the sleep schedule is a permanent effort."

Like, if I sleep *great* from 6am to 2pm and I wake up feeling rested and alert with no special help but I need to turn off the lights in my house and shut down all electronics at 8pm and beam a spotlight into my face starting at 5am to wake up at seven and feel exhausted all day, I think perhaps it is not actually my sleep cycle that is wrong it is perhaps society that is wrong.

BELIEVE ME, when I find the job that pays well and has decent insurance that lets me exist as a cheerful nighttime ghoul I am jumping on that with both feet. But until then I literally feel better getting six hours of sleep and occasionally sleeping so hard that i can't hear my alarms because of chronic sleep deprivation than I do turning off all the lights in my house and ceasing all activity two and a half hours after I get off of work.

Also: the eight alarms aren't all there to wake me up, it's just that sometimes I *also* sleep through the ones that are supposed to remind me to go sit at my desk and start work. One of the first three usually gets me up, but on a day when I sleep through all three of those I will be sleeping through all eight of them and usually a phone call and someone trying to shake me awake to.

ANYWAY after being treated with melatonin and light therapy and staring listlessly at the ceiling in the dark bored out of my skull with racing thoughts for sleep disorders that I didn't have for like twenty years the single most effective intervention that allowed me to get more sleep as someone with both ADHD and DSPD was to start hanging out and being active in places where it would be easy to fall asleep if the sleep caught me there instead of turning my bedroom into a dark, silent shrine of snoozing. Giving myself permission to fall asleep late instead of laying awake chewing myself up with guilt for not being asleep helped too.

Actually here's some tips for the sleepy bitches in the crowd:

1 - If you're laying down and not falling asleep in half an hour, you're not actually sleepy; read something or get up and do something because you're more likely to get sleepy faster that way than you are staring at the clock going "if I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and forty five minutes of rest when I have to go to work; If I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and twenty minutes of sleep when I have to get up, etc. etc."

2 - Allow yourself to be ambushed by sleep. Fall asleep on your cozy couch. Fall asleep in the comfy chair. Let yourself sleep where you fall asleep instead of dragging yourself to where you're 'supposed' to sleep if doing so will wake you up.

3 - The mythbusters thing. If you just lay down and close your eyes and pretend to rest you will feel more rested when you get up than when you laid down. Laying down to rest is better than nothing, it literally causes cognitive improvements similar to sleep in tests, and knowing that can help take off some of the pressure of not being able to fall asleep and can thus help you fall asleep.

4 - It's okay to "hang out" in the area where you're going to sleep. Read in bed. Play games on your cellphone in bed. If you want to go to sleep put on comfy clothes and bring a chill activity and hang out in your bed to do it so that all you have to do when you start getting sleepy is close your eyes.

5 - It's better to get some sleep than no sleep. Sometimes you look at the clock and it's six AM and whoops, fuck it. Okay, time for bed, don't stress that you're only going to get a few hours, a few hours is better than nothing. Lay down to pretend to rest at least and you'll probably feel okay.

6 - This one sounds silly and might not work for a bunch of people for a bunch of reasons but apparently there's some research suggesting that "well-rested" is a state of mind? I've had a reasonable amount of success with just telling myself "Yeah, I actually feel pretty good," and pushing through the day on a couple of hours of sleep. I don't *recommend* that and you should try to get as much sleep as possible, but yeah the next time you're low on sleep see what happens if you just try to decide to not be tired. It sounded like bullshit to me when I first heard it but I've found some success with it.

7 - This shit is cumulative. If you're doing a couple nights a week on low sleep that's not ideal but you're probably going to be pretty functional and you can work on it. If you overbook and overextend yourself for too long - I'm looking at you college students and new parents - it's going to add up. Try as much as possible to at least keep your sleep deficit nights spread out. (This message brought to you by writing 60k words of fiction in october and completely frying my brain because i wasn't getting enough sleep).

[omgeto]

☆ THREE ISN'T A CROWD — SATORU & SUGURU

summary: your best friends, geto and gojo, rail you in a hotel bed. that's it. that's the fic.

cw: afab!reader, finger fucking, unprotected sex, double penetration so mdni !!

an: I wrote this whilst drinking a big fat cup of tea, and eating a packet of stale biscuits. so no angsty romance today, just two besties appreciating you in their own special way. it is 5:40 am so I did not proof read this so ignore mistakes pls <;33

gojo and geto were mischievous on their own accords – but when together it was worse. so when you were sandwiched between them in your hotel room, since of course there was only one bed, you weren’t even surprised.

“this is not fair,” gojo mumbles, his lips curling into a mock pout as he exhales a huff of air. 

“oh don’t be a baby,” geto scolds, with a chuckle . gojo and geto bickered over who got to sleep where and after a lengthy game of rock paper scissors – it was gojo who had to face the wall. “you’ll get your turn soon.” you could feel geto’s breath on your neck as he was placed firmly behind you, his hands stuffed in your pants as his fingers caress your wet slit. 

“don’t be mean sugu,” you chastise, your hand trailing up gojo's back to his shoulder to turn him over, facing you, “there’s enough of me to go around.” gojo is needy, pressing a feverish kiss to your lips, wanting to taste all of you.

gojo didn’t think his plan would work, when he proposed it to geto he was swift in his agreement — the only thing left was you. their pretty little best friend. who they've both wanted a piece of, for years.

now that he’s got you, he couldn’t contain himself – if he wasn’t careful he knew he’d be cumming in his boxers too soon. he latches onto your neck sucking and biting his hands grabbing onto your tits, tweaking and pinching at your nipples.

“you’re hogging her,” gojo complains, as his fingers slip down to your cunt. geto adds another finger spreading your lips wider as gojo’s forces his fingers into you. they were both rubbing your pussy. your wetness making it easier for gojo to piston in and out of you and for geto to stroke and flick against your clit with his thumb.

“g-guys fuck, you’re both too much,” you whimper,  your hips thrusting towards gojo, slotting onto his fingers further. geto’s slides his tongue from your collar bone to your jaw before his hand grips onto it, his lips remain at your ears as he whispers, “you gonna cum for us baby?”

“yeah c’mon make a mess for us,” gojo adds, continuing his pattern of rubs and pushes in your pussy, its almost as if he’s committed the rhythm to memory. he was effortless in working with geto, both aiding each other to help you reach your climax. geto pinches your clint, hard, and you spray both of their hands with your cum – squirting all over them.

gojo’s eyes widen at the sight, “shit, i didn’t know you could do that” he exclaims, taking his fingers out of you, examining them as they glisten with your juices, “suguru, did she know that she could do that?”

geto ignores him, rolling his eyes at his friends over excitement, “wanna be wowed even further, taste her, i bet she’s sweet.” before gojo could comply you take his fingers in your mouth, practically choking on them as you suck off all your juices. 

“you taste good don’t you?” geto muses, pressing a kiss to your neck, you nod dumbly as you lock eyes with gojo still nibbling on his fingers. 

“hey suguru, can we try something with her,” gojo proposes, and geto nods, prompting him to continue, “i wanna stuff her. i want both of us to stuff her. 

“we can make that happen, can't we?” geto smirks, rubbing on your ass giving it a light smack, “come sit on my dick, i’ll take of you.”

“what about me?” gojo whines, groaning as you're pulled away from him and on top of geto. 

“you’ll get yours in due time, satoru,” geto scolds, taking out his dick giving it some light pumps before rubbing it across your slit. you force yourself down on him, your hands clawing at his chest as you push it down. you were already gushing at the feeling of geto inside of you, filling you whole. so the idea of having them both in you had you excited, grinding down onto geto’s dick as hard as he was thrusting into you.

“are you seeing this?” geto asks gojo, gesturing to the way your head was thrown back and your lips were clenched in your teeth, “the way our pretty friend here is all strung out on my dick?”

gojo’s eyes were focused on the way you bounced repeatedly on his best friends dick, furiously pumping his as the sight. the way your grabbed your tits and played with your nipples, moaning to the beat of geto’s thrusts, he knew he needed to be inside of you. 

he gets out of the bed, coming to kneel behind you, peppering kisses along your spine. “i think theres room for me, isn’t there?” he jests, slightly pushing you forward, eyeing the way geto’s dick slides in and out of you. 

you take a shark inhale at the feeling of gojo entering you, “you’re good,” geto reassures, “you can take us.” and you moan as you get used to the feeling of the both of them, their dicks rubbing together as they drive into you, instantly finding a rhythm. 

“you feel so fuckin’ good, w-way too good,” gojo moans, holds you from behind, his chest presses against your back, his hands cupping your boobs as his head rests on your shoulders. 

“‘m close,” geto mutters, smirking at the sight of you, the feeling of you. “you gonna let us cum inside of you? really keep you filled up.” you moan out in agreement, your head felt so foggy with the feeling of them both charging into you. geto gives gojo a knowing smile, and as if on cue, they both load into you showering you with their cum. you finish at the same as them with a high pitched moan, releasing onto them, feeling stuffed with all their cum, and yours, resting inside of you.

“now that,” gojo pulls out of you, pressing an appreciative kiss on the corner of your lips before collapsing on the bed with a blissful smile, “was fucking magical.”

“yeah i guess it was good,” geto chuckles, still inside of you, kissing you on your forehead, his hand slinging over your ass, as you slump on top of him, “how are you feeling?”

“you two are exhausting,” you joke with a smile, “but i can see why i kept you around as my friends.” although this was something that you yourself didn’t plan, you weren’t gonna deny that being freshly fucked and laid up with your two best friends wasn’t all that bad.

AN: I think you can see my heavy bias for geto come thru in this fic but oh well DIVIDERS BY @/CAFEKITSUNE I wrote this more for time than anyone else tbf BUT TELL ME WHAT U THINK since I am iffy on my smut skills

[pucksandpower]

Theories of Relativity

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you don’t need TikTok theories to prove that your relationship is a dream come to life, but it doesn’t hurt when your boyfriend passes all of them with flying colors

The Olive Theory

When you love someone, you have to be willing to make sacrifices and compromises for them (even if those sacrifices are something small like pretending to hate olives just so you can give them to your olive-loving partner instead)

You sit across from Charles at the long dinner table, smiling as he animatedly recounts the race from last weekend. His hands wave through the air, punctuating his story as he describes the final lap battle with Max down to the last corner. You’re only half listening though, too distracted by how handsome he looks in his dinner jacket, his tanned skin glowing in the low light of the restaurant.

As Charles pauses to take a sip of wine, you lean in and whisper, “I wasn’t really watching the race, I only had eyes for you.”

Charles chuckles, his nose crinkling adorably. “Oh really? So you missed all the action then?"

You shrug, trailing a finger down his arm. “What can I say, I find you far more interesting than the other cars going around in circles.”

Charles opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by a mechanic sitting a little way down from you. “Oi Charles, why do you keep picking all the olives out of your salad?"

You look down, noticing the small pile of olives Charles has stacked onto the edge of his plate.

Charles glances at you, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. “Oh, um, I’m not a huge fan of olives.”

The mechanic frowns in confusion. “But I’ve seen you eat olives before. You always get them on your pizza.”

“I, uh ...” Charles stammers, clearly flustered.

Under the table, you squeeze his hand reassuringly. Charles looks at you and you give him a small nod.

“Well, the truth is,” Charles says, turning back to the mechanic. “I actually love olives. But Y/N loves them even more than I do. So I pick them out of my food to give to her.”

You smile softly at Charles, warmed by his thoughtfulness. The mechanic chuckles and shakes his head. “You two are so cute it’s almost gross.”

Charles just grins and pops an olive into your mouth. “Anything for mon amour.”

You crunch the olive happily, then lean in to give Charles a quick kiss on the lips. “People who say chivalry is dead have simply never met you.”

The conversation moves on, flowing from racing to travel and everything in between. Under the table, your fingers stay intertwined with Charles’ the whole time.

After dinner, you all head outside into the cool night air. Charles’ team members head off towards their own cars, calling out goodbyes.

You snuggle into Charles’ side as you walk towards where his Ferrari is parked. “Thank you for the olives,” you say. “But you really don’t have to deprive yourself on my account.”

Charles wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. “I want to though. I like making you happy.”

You stop next to the car, turning to face him. Running a hand down his chest you say, “You know what would really make me happy right now?"

“Hmm?" Charles murmurs, his eyes drifting down to your lips.

You grin mischievously. “A stop for gelato on the way home.”

Charles laughs and opens the car door for you. “Anything for you, mon cœur.”

The Bird Test

If you say something that could be deemed insignificant and your partner responds with genuine curiosity, that’s a really good sign that your relationship will last a long time

The Brazilian sun beats down as you wander hand-in-hand with Charles along the edges of the Interlagos circuit. It’s the day before qualifying, and Charles brought you out to the track in São Paulo to share the grid walk with you.

You stroll slowly, enjoying a rare private moment together during the hectic race weekend. Charles points out details along the track — the tricky off-camber Turn 3, the sharp left-right complex at Turns 5 and 6, the long full throttle blast down the back straight.

You love seeing him so in his element here, his passion for racing evident in his voice and gestures.

As you round Turn 12, heading down the home straight, a flash of bright blue in the trees catches your eye. Gasping in excitement, you grab Charles’ arm and point.

“Look, a hyacinth macaw!”

Charles follows your gaze to the large, vividly colored parrot perched in the branches. “Wow, that’s amazing! I’ve never seen one outside of a zoo.”

You bounce on your toes, thrilled at the sighting. “Aren’t they gorgeous? That bright blue is unreal. Macaws are pretty rare around here, I can’t believe we spotted one!”

Charles smiles at your obvious delight, then turns back to observe the macaw with curiosity. “What do they eat?" He asks. “Fruit, like other parrots?"

“Yes exactly!” You reply eagerly. “Mostly palm nuts and acai berries. And they need a huge range of territory, something like 80 square kilometers.”

As you chat more facts about the brilliant bird, Charles listens attentively, asking more questions and commenting on its beauty. His genuine interest and engagement makes your heart flutter happily.

Eventually the macaw takes flight, its bright wings flashing blue against the trees as it disappears into the forest.

“Incredible,” Charles murmurs, watching it go. “What an amazing thing to see.”

He turns back to you, eyes shining. “Thank you for pointing it out, I never would have spotted it myself. I love seeing you so excited teaching me about something you’re passionate about.”

You step closer, looping your arms around his neck. “And I love that you always listen and want to know more, even if it’s not about racing.”

Charles wraps his arms around your waist, smiling tenderly. “Of course, your passions are my passions now too. I want to know everything that sparks that beautiful light in your eyes.”

The Orange Peel Theory

A partner’s willingness to perform small acts of service is indicative of a healthy relationship

Early morning sun filters into the kitchen as you sip your coffee, still wearing the oversized Ferrari shirt you slept in. Charles stands at the counter across from you, freshly showered and humming to himself as he browses his phone.

Setting your mug down, you grab an orange from the fruit bowl and start to peel it. Or at least you try. The tough rind puts up a stubborn fight, your nails scraping uselessly against it.

“Ugh, I hate peeling oranges,” you grumble after a minute. “Whose idea was it to make the peel so impossible?"

Charles glances up with a sympathetic smile. “Here, let me.”

He takes the orange from your hands and deftly digs his thumb into the top, effortlessly tearing the peel away in one long curl.

You watch in admiration as he strips the rest of the orange until it’s completely naked and ready to eat.

“Voila,” Charles presents it with a flourish. “One perfectly peeled orange for mon ange.”

“My hero,” you grin. You go to take it from him but Charles playfully keeps it out of reach.

“Ah ah, allow me,” he says. Holding your gaze, he gently pulls apart one glistening segment and brings it to your lips.

Happiness bubbles up in you at this sweet, unexpected gesture. You let Charles pop the orange slice into your mouth, savoring the bright citrus burst.

“Delicious,” you murmur. Charles smiles and leans in to kiss you softly, his thumb brushing a drop of juice from your lower lip.

One by one he continues to peel the segments and feed them to you, interspersing each with tender kisses that taste of orange and love.

You close your eyes blissfully, letting the sensual ritual relax you. Charles takes his time, not rushing. He knows this is your favorite part of the morning, stealing these private moments together before the busy day sweeps you both up.

When the last segment is gone, Charles kisses you again, deeper this time. You loop your arms around his neck, melting against him.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” you whisper when you finally separate.

Charles nuzzles your nose with his. “You may have said it once or twice. But I never get tired of hearing it.”

You lean into him contentedly. As always, his thoughtfulness and care warms you from the inside out.

Peeling an orange is such a small act but the meaning behind it speaks volumes. Charles knows your quirks and preferences, and cherishes these little opportunities to make your day brighter.

The little things that mean everything.

You’re still musing dreamily about this when Charles tips your chin up. “Where’d you go just now?” He asks with a curious smile.

You shake your head, focusing back on him. “Just thinking about us. And how perfectly you peel my oranges.”

Charles laughs. “Well I’m glad to be of service. I know how you hate getting orange string stuck under your nails.”

He kisses your fingertips one by one. “Can’t have anything marring these beautiful hands.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “Oh yes, I need to keep my hands soft and dainty in case a prince comes along to propose.”

Charles squawks in protest and tackles you against the counter, fingers digging into your sides to tickle you mercilessly. You dissolve into helpless giggles, swatting him away.

“No no, stop! I take it back!” You gasp.

Charles relents, holding you close and nuzzling into your hair. “Too late, you’re stuck with me now,” he murmurs, kissing your temple.

You snuggle into him contentedly. No fantasy prince could ever compete with the reality of Charles.

The Invisible String Theory

An invisible string connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance (the string may stretch or tangle but it will never break)

The living room is filled with laughter and happy chatter as you and Charles sit surrounded by both your families. Your wedding is only two days away, and his mother suggested gathering everyone together one night for reminiscing and quality time.

Looking through old photo albums is proving to be hilarious and heartwarming. Baby pictures, school plays, family vacations — memories preserved to embroider the story of your lives before fate brought you together.

Charles smiles wistfully as Lorenzo shows an album from their childhood. “I wish my godfather and father could have met you,” he says softly. “They would have loved you so much.”

You take his hand, leaning your head on his shoulder. His lost loved ones are always close to his heart.

Your mother passes an album to you with a smile. “Oh this one is from our trip to France when you were five! So many cute little Y/N photos.”

You roll your eyes but obligingly open the album, Charles peering over your shoulder. You flip through pictures of your younger self building sandcastles on the beach, wearing a hilariously large sun hat, beaming gappily with missing front teeth.

Charles grins down at you. “Adorable. I can’t wait for our kids to-”

He stops abruptly, staring down at the page. You follow his gaze to a photo of your family in Nice, taken in front of the Le Negresco hotel. And there in the background, almost out of frame — four familiar figures walking down the promenade.

A young Charles holds the hand of a teenage boy you immediately recognize as Jules. On Charles’ other side, his father Hervé carries a toddler Arthur.

Your breath catches sharply. The families fall silent around you. Charles’ fingers tremble slightly as they trace over the image.

“Of course we went to Nice often,” he whispers. “I had no idea ...” His voice trails off, thick with emotion.

Arthur cranes his head to see. “Is that us? With Papa and Jules?" He looks between you and Charles with wide eyes.

“Almost twenty years ago,” Lorenzo marvels. “And your paths were already crossing.”

Pascale wipes at her eyes, grasping Charles’ other hand tightly. “It was meant to be. Some invisible string tying you together even then.”

Charles’ fingers tremble as they trace over the image. For one brief, impossible moment, it feels like you’re all together — you, Charles, Jules, Hervé. Preserved in time, intersecting at the crossroads of past and future.

Though you never met in life, somehow you were all bound in that instant, tied by invisible strings of destiny. Strings that would one day guide you and Charles to each other.

It’s only a photo, yet looking at it you feel Jules and Hervé’s presence like a bittersweet embrace. As if across the years, they’re saying we know you. We love you. We’re so happy for you both.

You stare down at it, this captured moment of impossible synchronicity. A glimpse of the thread that wove itself silently through your lives until the day it finally drew you together.

Charles meets your eyes, his own shimmering with tears. Without words, you know he feels it too. The impossible link stretching back through time. Proof you were always meant to find each other.

He pulls you close, kissing the top of your head. “I believe that with all my heart, we’ve always been connected somehow.”

“Soulmates,” you whisper.

You cling to him, overwhelmed with certainty. Through accidents of time and geography, missteps and milestones, your story was always guiding you here.

Meant for each other. Destined, even then.

[lauraneedstochill]

if I see one more post about Aegon “bullying Aemond his entire life”, I will go fucking ballistic, I swear to g—

scratch that, I will actually go ballistic right now. this is the “Aegon doesn’t deserve such a shitty treatment” club and I’m the self-proclaimed CEO. we are about to do some analyzing and reading so BUCKLE UP.

gonna make one thing clear first — Aemond was bullied when he was a child. no one denies that, no excuses can be made for that. I’d only like to note that there wasn’t only one bully. here’s a quick reminder:

now that we successfully counted to three, let’s look over Aegon’s other horrible crimes relationship with Aemond throughout the years.

📍 the night Aemond lost his eye (S1EP7), Rhaenyra suggests he should be “sharply questioned” (she means tortured) so they can learn who told him that her sons were bastards. Viserys, in his perpetual denial, angrily asks Aemond “who spoke these lies” to which he replies that it was Aegon. it is clear that Aemond does that to deflect suspicion from their mother but his words come as a surprise to Aegon.

he’s in a tough spot — Viserys demands the answers “as their king”, not their father (to signify his authority and pressure them into telling the truth). and Alicent screamed in Aegon’s face and slapped him just a minute ago, so he may be less eager to defend her. he can easily lie and say that he overheard some maids gossiping or that he can’t remember where the rumor came from. instead, it takes Aegon about 5 seconds to back Aemond up.

📍 we didn’t get many scenes with young Aegon and Aemond in general, but here’s a short bit people keep overlooking: when Harwin and Criston start fighting, Aemond and Aegon instantly gravitate toward each other. and moreover, Aegon puts a hand over Aemond’s back (which to me is either a protective or a comforting gesture). what a horrible brother, truly.

📍 next we see them all grown up before dinner in S1EP8. I think it’s safe to assume that if Aegon has been bullying Aemond all these years, Aemond wouldn’t want to spend a second in his company. he’s seated between Helaena and Otto, both of whom are dear to him, so Aemond can stay at the table and chat with them. and YET, not only does Aemond voluntarily talks to Aegon, but their conversation seems friendly (you can barely hear it in the show so here’s the enhanced audio). Aemond makes a joke about Aegon’s drinking habits — Aegon quips back — and then, what a shocker! Aemond starts venting his frustrations to Aegon (“Even when the noose is so tight, they expect us to break bread”). nothing would’ve stopped him from venting to Otto but Aemond stays with Aegon. he wouldn’t have done that if there hadn’t been some level of trust between them. he wouldn’t have done that if he hated Aegon’s guts.

📍 at dinner, when Aegon pisses Jace off and the brunet springs to his feet, Aemond stands up too, which forces Jace to act as if nothing happened and come up with a toast. Aegon watches him with a shit-eating grin on his face. it’s the face that screams “I know you won’t dare to act up in front of my brother and my brother has my back”.

when Aemond makes a toast and calls Rhaenyra’s sons “strong”, Aegon raises a cup to that. he can sit this one out — Aemond has his personal vendetta against the boys, and it would be safer for Aegon not to meddle. but what does he do instead? when Luke gets up from the table (clearly intending to go to Aemond), Aegon instantly stands up, comes up to Luke and not just stops him but slams his face into the table right in front of Rhaenyra without thinking twice. and it doesn’t look like Aegon is just messing with him — no, it looks like he wanted to do that for a while. like Aegon finally got his chance to stand up for his brother too. AND he also stops Baela from joining the fight.

📍 S1EP9 is when we get a glimpse of Aemond’s ambitions: he deems himself better than Aegon, he thinks he deserves to be king. but once he finds Aegon and they get into a fight, it turns out that Aegon knows that Aemond is a better choice. he doesn’t want to fight him, he begs Aemond to let him go. and Aemond can do that — Criston has his back to them, so Aemond could’ve pretended that Aegon managed to break free. and even once they caught Aegon, I have no doubt that Aemond could’ve helped him escape. but it seems that, despite his displeasure, Aemond values his family the most. he can’t betray his mother’s trust, and he knows Aegon is the first in line to the throne. Aemond envies him, yes, he may even hate him because of that. but he values his family the most.

📍 as @florisbaratheons noted, during the coronation scene, when Aegon glances at his family, Aemond looks right at him and gives that tiny nod that says “I may hate this and think I am better for the job as king. But I’ve got your back.” I like that Aemond is the one who keeps eye contact in that scene. He could’ve turned away to signal his dissatisfaction with the situation, there wouldn’t have been any consequences for that. But he didn’t.

📍 what I find interesting about S1EP10 is the beginning of Aemond’s dialogue with Luke. that’s the boy Aemond wished to get back at for years and yet, he starts by saying “Did you think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”. Aemond could’ve skipped that part — imagine him saying smth along the lines of “Wait, Lord Strong! Don’t you think you and I have other matters to discuss?” (to which Luke answers that he doesn’t want to fight and the conversation goes on). instead, Aemond makes a point to remind Luke: my brother is the king, and I came here on his behalf. you can argue that Aemond doesn’t do it for Aegon specifically but for his family in general. but Aegon is a part of the family, and S1 Aemond has his priorities straight.

📍 as much as I hate comparing the show and the book (these are two different things and should be viewed as such), I’d like to remind you that Aegon was the only one who stood by Aemond’s side after Luke’s death. I wonder why we didn’t get that scene… I guess it’s because it would be kinda hard to call Aegon “the main bully” after he literally throws Aemond a feast. but we do get to see Aegon supporting his brother: in S2EP1 he welcomes Aemond at the small council meeting despite his mother’s protests (“Aemond is my closest blood and my best sword”). and he trusts Aemond wholeheartedly, that much is obvious.

📍 let’s get to the most controversial part — the brothel scene in S2EP3: some people believe Aegon is being a bully at that moment. those people seem to forget one little detail:

it’s been only a few days after the death of Aegon’s son whose murder was a direct result of Aemond’s ruthless actions. does Aemond ever address it? does he express his condolences? does he mayhaps help to catch the killers, being the skilled fighter that he is? the answer is NO.

I do think Aegon’s joke was cruel (I wrote a whole post about it) but that’s all it ever was — a JOKE. the humiliation comes not from the things he says but from the fact that Aemond is found in a vulnerable position and surrounded by a group of strangers while his brother laughs at him. TGC explained it best:

I also love @notbloodraven’s take on that scene:

Aegon lashing out so cruelly at Aemond seems to be an effort in making Aemond feel as badly as he does and blaming him for Jaehaerys without actually saying the words.

would this be the right way to act? no. but there’s no right way to grieve and to cope with the loss — and HIS SON WAS BEHEADED so maybe take 1% of the sympathy you show your favorite character(s) and cut Aegon some slack.

+ other things worth talking about:

📍 @bietrofastimoff23 analyzed S2EP3 beautifully and I can’t help but mention the scene that happens before Aegon goes to the brothel. it’s the moment when Larys suggests that Alicent and Aemond are plotting against Aegon. he isn’t surprised by the idea that his mother can do that — but the second his brother is mentioned, Aegon’s face falls and he shakes his head no. because there is no way Aemond would ever do that to him. and instead of asking for any proof, he asks Larys “who spreads these lies?” and then commands him to “tend to them.” Aegon can ask him to spy on Aemond, to find any dirt on him, find any weaknesses he can use — he does not.

📍 it turns out to be true — Aemond was plotting behind his brother’s back. which is treason btw (I don’t think Criston intended to keep things from Aegon — he probably believed that Aemond would let Aegon in on their plan). and Aegon does have the power to remind Aemond of his place — he can throw him off the council with a snap of his fingers, he can take offense at Aemond’s attempt to publicly humiliate him (their conversation in High Valyrian — Ewan himself calls it a “public execution”). but that’s not what happens: as TGC phrased it, Aemond’s betrayal “breaks a bit of Aegon’s heart off”. an actual bully would’ve immediately pushed back, but Aegon silently sits down and doesn’t argue, he’s so defeated he can’t utter a word. he has the means to be a bully but he doesn’t contemplate it for a second.

📍 I don’t want to talk about S2EP6 because it makes me sick but I will reiterate one thing: never ONCE Aegon made fun of Aemond’s disability or tried to cause him any physical harm. just want to point that out.

there is no moral to this story, I guess. if you managed to read till the very end, thank you. if you still hate Aegon, that’s your opinion and you are allowed to have one — but please, for the love of god, just stop making shit up. no, Aemond was NOT bullied as an adult, absolutely nothing suggests that he was. Aegon was naive to blindly trust him and it backfired on him, that’s the actual story. and if you are so eager to hold Aegon accountable for his mistakes, maybe it’s time for Aemond to take responsibility for his actions too.

+ some of my favorite critical posts about Aegon and Aemond: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x.

P.S. I will not argue with anyone so please don’t waste your time — I consider all my arguments solid and that’s enough for me. if you are thinking of sending me anon hate, pls go take a walk instead, it will do you more good. 🌿

[eternalsunrise]

shower talk.

deadpool (wade wilson) x f!reader

wc: 750 (drabble)

tags! established relationship, sexual & murder references (duh)

notes! wade brainrot is so bad idk, logan fic coming soon pls forgive me

wade often barges into the bathroom while you’re in the shower just to sit on the toilet seat and rant about the mission he just went on, or even to ask what takeout you want for dinner. couldn’t it wait until you had clothes on? sure, but he wants to talk to you now.

unexpectedly, you decide to take a page out of his playbook.

you’ve just walked in the door after your 9-5, throwing your keys and bag haphazardly across the room in frustration. you spy the familiar rumpled up red and black suit on the floor, wade was home. you had complained last week about deadpool tracking blood into the apartment after his “work.” it seemed your boyfriend had listened and obliged. if it weren’t for your bad day, the image of him cupping his crotch as he scrambled naked into the bathroom would’ve made you smile.

you hear the water still running, but you finally understand how wade feels, this can’t wait. you open the bathroom door and throw the toilet lid down, unsure if wade even heard you enter over the sound of his own voice belting hall and oates’ greatest hits.

you sit down and let out an overdramatic sigh. your boyfriend’s voice quiets down halfway through “out of touch”

“honey bear? you’re home! these stab wounds will heal in about two minutes then you can join me. i know how you feel about seeing intestines, and i don’t want to make you gag…well scratch that i do sometimes—“

“i fucking hate men.”

you hear the sound of the shower curtain opening slightly, and wade’s head peaks out, looking at you with wide eyes, “woah language, babydoll! you know degradation turns me on.” his head tilts to the side, noticing the distress written on your face “but i have a feeling this isn’t about me…”

you spare him a narrowed glance, then watch as his head disappears. the curtain closes and you hear the water hit skin again as he resumes his shower. he’s giving you time to speak. remarkable.

“you remember that guy i told you about? the one that gave me major creep vibes? and was just an all around dick?”

you get a hum in response, and you can’t see it, but you know wade is physically biting his tongue so he doesn’t say anything. it’s endearing in a way.

you rub your face with your hands, the memory of what you’re about to say lights the fire of anger again, “well. guess who got that promotion i was being eyed for? i’ll give you a hint, it’s not someone with a vagina! and on top of that, i saw him try to look under my skirt as i was leaving! that fuck.”

you almost regretted telling him that last part, knowing where this was going. but your mind was clouded by frustration, and the water was already turned off. the rings screech against the metal shower rod as wade throws the curtain open, reaching over your head for a towel. “okay sweet thing. where does this cock suck and fuck live?”

your eyes catch a glimpse of red turning pink as it swirled into the tub drain. you shake your head, suddenly realizing the severity of what your mercenary boyfriend was implying. “no no babe please it’s not that serious! and you just got home. not to mention if people found out, you’d get in so much trouble all because of something silly that happened to me and—“

a long finger is placed over your lips. you’re eye level with wade’s v line, partially covered by the towel now wrapped around his waist. you trail your eyes upward, locking them with the one who interrupted your rambling.

“shhh. nonsense kitten. now. you’re going to tell me this guy’s address, and i’m going to go out for…” wade uses his free arm to look at a make believe watch, “hmm, about an hour. while i’m gone, you’re going to change out of this sexy pantsuit. then have a glass of wine, and touch yourself while you think of me fondly. i’ll grab dinner on the way home. yes?”

when you nod with wide eyes in agreement, he removes his finger, bending down to meet your face, “atta girl.” he praises as his lips graze your own, kiss light as a feather. he clears his throat then, patting your cheek a few times as he stands up to walk out of the bathroom. whistling as if murder was all in a day’s work (you suppose for him it is)

you sit there stunned, wondering if you just got your coworker murdered….and why you were so turned on.

[okwonyo]

LOVE ANTHEM, 或 𓈒𓈒 cuddling with them.

( 𝒷 ) INTRODUC𝓲NG 𖥔 엔하이픈 ୨୧ f .. r 7OO fluff established relationship cautions ˚ non-idol au kissing skinship

jiah says : it has been a while since i last wrote headcanons huehue ㅠㅠ hope you enjoy 🪽

( ˊᗜˋreblogs&feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK )

HEESEUNG

would smoothly slide his hand in yours when you passe by— eyes still focused on the game he is playing. would then tug closer to him, gently and slowly, before resting his hand on your waist and making sit on his lap.

would wrap his arms around your form, stroking your thigh gently, fingertips brushing on your skin as his free hand’s fingers dance on the keyboard. and when he wins; would hug you tight while relaxing on his chair with a proud smile, even turning around with his chair.

him : “i deserve some reward for my hard work, right?” you : “of course, baby”

JONGSEONG

after landing a playful slap on your butt—to which you would yelp—whereupon he sees you laying on your stomach, would come lay on top of you instead of the mattress. ignoring your pleading for air, would rest his whole weight on you.

would at some point start landing wet kisses on your cheeks, sliding next to you so he can have a better angle and can free you from your agony. would then pull you in his embrace, still kissing your cheeks repeatedly.

him : “i want to eat your cheeks” you : “please don’t, i kinda need that”

JAEYUN

would already be following you around the house for a while. with his starry eyes and kicked puppy expression staring right at your back while you do the most random things ever. telepathically asking you for some cuddles.

his face would enlighten when you finally give him some attention. would open his arms for you to hide in and would sinm his nose in the crook of your neck— smelling your comforting scent. an embrace that will eventually end into long cuddles.

you : “jake, i need to pee” him : “just 5 more minutes, please”

SUNGHOON

would look for comfort in your arms after a long day away from you. it would be heard in the way he sighs in relief as soon as he steps foot in your house, his hurried steps approaching to the bedroom you would be laying in.

would love to be on top of you, his head resting on your chest while your fingers wrap around his hair strands. his hand would often take yours and put your hand palm on his cheek, then would turn his head to kiss it— all over.

him : “i missed you so much” you : “you are such a big baby”

SUNOO

would be really good at making you feel like you are the one who wants to cuddle— when you are, in theory, not. would know that if he stays next to you long enough, shoulder brushing yours but not really, you would soon ache for his touch and end up pressed against him.

would have such a cute smile on his face whenever you cuddle with him. would hold you on top of him as if you were an immense plushie with his arms squeezing your waist tightly while your face is in his neck.

you : “you could just ask instead of putting up a whole act” him : “where is the fun in that?”

JUNGWON

would have no shame or restraint in literally jumping on you the second he sees you lying somewhere without him. his laugh would resonate in the whole room when you let out a loud ‘oof’ and try to push him off of you. putting up a fight for anything with him would become a habit.

would love to tease you whenever you are locked in each other’s embrace: tickling you or pinching your sides when he feels like it— you would not even react at some point. but, would also calm down when you rub his back gently, purring like a cat.

you : “jungwon, i will kick you if you don’t stop” him : “you love me too much to do that”

RIKI

would prefer to cuddle during bedtime, when you are both on the verge of drifting to the dream world and your eyes are too heavy to stay open— when he doesn’t have to verbally ask. his shyness would wear off as soon as the tiredness would show it’s nose.

gently pulling the cover over both of your bodies, would scoot closer and put a single arm around you. then, would pull you close to him, to his chest, to his heart. like a real koala, would cling into you like that during the whole night— even if you end up in the weirdest positions, he would be holding you.

him : “wh’ d’you hate me?” you : “i just need some water”

💌 taglist ─── open, mwah ♡

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - Dreemurr of Demons

1 | 2 | 3

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

Asriel ventures back to Hometown while on the trail of trying to find out what happened to Kris, and stumbles across an unusual man who's all too excited to share his demon-warding knowledge! But it's unclear so far whether this knowledge will actually be of help to him...

Yaaay all done with this series back with the Dreemurrs! This one was definitely the longest, but also had some important info! What I'll tackle next is a mystery to me right now...

Alt text for these pages is under the read more:

Page 1 Panel 1: Exterior shot of a back alley in Hometown, with old barrels and boxes stacked behind medieval buildings. Asriel walks down the alley, wearing a striped shirt, glasses and scruffy blond hair, and carrying a large canvas bag over his shoulders. The annoying dog trots happily beside him.

Panel 2: The annoying dog drops his nose to the ground, sniffing at some interesting smell.

Panel 3: The dog bounds off ahead of Asriel to a haphazard collection of trinkets, boxes, jars and displayed charms, all partially covered with colorful cloths. A man is kneeling under one of the tent setups. Asriel walks to catch up with the dog, asking, "What's got your interest this time, dog?"

Panel 4: The man pops up from his odd collection and turns to Asriel with arms spread and a big smile. He has short curly hair, and is dressed in a medieval robe with a cape slung over his shoulders, and bone designs in his sleeve cuffs. He answers, "Just the finest assortment of handmade charms and magical meals made by yours truly, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!" The dog happily circles Papyrus, tail wagging.

Panel 5: Asriel is a bit taken aback by the introduction, but waves in greeting anyway, and responds with "…Oh! Howdy!" The dog sits in front of Papyrus, panting and wagging his tail.

Page 2 Panel 1: Papyrus leans down with a big grin to pet the dog and ruffle its face. "What a bright and clever fellow! Such a sweet face!"

Panel 2: "You're a good, good boy, aren't you?" Papyrus continues. However, the dog glances over to the side, as something has got his attention:

Panel 3: It's one of the charms Papyrus has on display: a large femur bone decorated with paint, beads and feathers.

Panel 4: The dog leaps up and snatches the charm in its mouth. Papyrus looks agape at this thievery, eyes cartoonishly wide. "Wh-HEY! That's my SPECIAL demon-warding charm!"

Panel 5: The dog goes running off further into the alley, the bone still in its mouth. Papyrus shakes his fist at it and yells after it: "You thieving scoundrel! I take back all the nice things I said about you!"

Panel 6: Papyrus quickly turns back to Asriel with a more apologetic look; even now he can't be too mean. He says, "I apologize, I didn't mean to yell at your dog. I'm sure he's normally better behaved!" Asriel waves off the apology with tired bemusement. "No, it's fine. He's not really my dog." Under his breath, he adds, "He just keeps following me around for some reason…"

Panel 7: Papyrus stands back up and gestures to his odd collection. "In any case, you at least are welcome to my little shop-in-the-works!"

Page 3 Panel 1: Papyrus leans in close to Asriel, observing him, and getting a bit into his personal space. "You look a little familiar, though! Are you perhaps related to Mr. Dreemurr?" Asriel nervously adjusts his glasses, and replies, "Heh, yes. I'm Asriel, his son."

Panel 2: Asriel holds up a hand and gives a little sideeye to the alley around them. "But, uh…I actually don't want my parents to know that I'm back in town, so I'd appreciate you keeping quiet about me being here."

Panel 3: Papyrus mirrors that sideeye, hands on his hips, as if recalling some recent incident. "Ahh…I know well the trials of avoiding family. Especially when they decide to try out some terrible new jokes."

Panel 4: Papyrus makes a lip-zipping motion with his hand and mouth. "Not to worry, my lips are sealed!" Asriel smiles back, and says, "Thanks, I appreciate it."

Panel 5: A wider shot of the two still standing within Papyrus's collection of tents and trinkets. Papyrus asks, "So, if it's not to see your folks, what brings you back around Hometown?" Asriel glances around them, and replies, "I'm looking for something. Or well…kinda hoping I don't find something here."

Page 4 Panel 1: Papyrus points up one finger, looking as if he's already solved this problem. "If you don't want to find it, then looking for it seems rather counterintuitive!"

Panel 2: Asriel looks a little taken aback by that logic. "Yes, well… Okay you have a point, but…"

Panel 3: Asriel keeps glancing behind him, as if expecting to see someone there. "This is kind of the next step in a trail of research I've been doing."

Panel 4: Papyrus puts a hand to a chest and puffs himself up, imitating his heroic poses from Undertale. "Well, if your research involves handmade charms and tasty foods both designed to ward off demons, evil spirits and the like… Then I'll be your most cited source!"

Panel 5: Asriel crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows, intrigued by this. "Really."

Panel 6: "You know a lot about demons, huh?" Asriel asks as he sits himself on one of the rugs within the tent setup. Papyrus keeps up his self-congratulatory pose. "I, the Great Papyrus, am a bonafide expert in such subjects! Sad that so few around here seem to recognize my talents."

Page 5 Panel 1: Asriel holds his hands up, willing to follow this strange thread wherever it might lead. "Well, I've got a question that all my research hasn't been able to answer for me, so perhaps you can…"

Panel 2: A pause as Asriel holds on to his thoughts, hands closed in front of his face. Papyrus sits down on the rug across from him.

Panel 3: Asriel lowers his hands, his face deeply serious. "How do you kill a demon?"

Panel 4: Papyrus looks back at him with an equally serious expression, then…

Panel 5: The seriousness is gone as he gives a casual shrug, and gives an answer. "Oh, that's simple. You don't!"

Panel 6: Asriel looks a little bit baffled, and disappointed. "…You don't?"

Panel 7: "No, silly. They're immortal, like angels!" Papyrus keeps up the casual shrug, as if this information is obvious.

Panel 8: However, Papyrus then seems to become aware of why this is being asked. He looks around the area frantically, his head whipping back and forth. "Why?! Are there demons around here that my detection flatbreads missed?!" Asriel offers an amused smile back. "Heehee… no, I don't think so."

Page 6 Panel 1: The seriousness returns to Asriel's face as he scratches at his nose, lost in worried thought. "I just…have this real bad hunch. I'm trying to prepare myself for all potential outcomes."

Panel 2: Papyrus ignores the seriousness of the situation, and just seems impressed. "Preparation! The hallmark of the truly intelligent!"

Panel 3: Asriel is still set on getting some information, and continues his questions. "Thanks. So, if you can't kill them, what do you do about them?" Papyrus holds up a finger again, happy to keep explaining: "Well, you got two options! First, you can banish them back to their own plane!"

Panel 4: Papyrus continues, "However, that's really only the ideal option if you're the one that summoned them in the first place. Otherwise it's a whole ordeal." In the background, Papyrus's point is illustrated with a little graphic of a cult member holding up a hand in rejection of a demon within a summoning circle. The demon looks confused and perturbed by the rejection.

Panel 5: Asriel says, "I see. What's the other option?" Papyrus continues his explanation across the two panels: "You bind the demon to something! Quickest and easiest thing to do is bind them to an object! Buuut, problem with that is, if your object gets broken or destroyed, now your demon's free and even angrier than before."

Panel 6: To illustrate his point, another background graphic shows a shocked human with a broken jar in front of them. A demon rises out of the remains of the broken jar, looking angry and ready to strike.

Page 7 Panel 1: Papyrus again continues his explanation across two panels. "Hardest and most time-consuming thing to do is to bind them to a place! Good option if you have the prep time, but then you can't really use that place anymore. Better pick a restaurant you hate and hope no one there minds you standing outside it chanting for three days straight."

Panel 2: To illustrate his point further, a scene (perhaps a flashback) shows Papyrus with his arms raised outside of a restaurant, supposedly chanting angrily at it, while another person stares back at him from the doorway, hands on their hips in annoyance.

Panel 3: Asriel watches as Papyrus finishes up the rest of his explanation: "Aaaand, last thing you can do is…bind the demon to a person! Which…"

Panel 4: Papyrus stops suddenly. For the first time, he looks actually disturbed and hesitant.

Panel 5: Asriel watches quizzically, waiting for him to continue.

Panel 6: When he doesn't continue, Asriel tries to prompt him on, tilting his head towards him. "…And?"

Panel 7: Papyrus quickly waves his hands in front of him, smiling nervously, clearly trying to dismiss the whole idea. "But you know, we don't need to go into the details of that!"

Panel 8: Asriel says nothing, but remains in nervous thought, one hand covering his mouth. It's clear that this is sticking in his mind the most.

Page 8 Panel 1: Asriel remains sitting with a hand to his chin in thought, but Papyrus has moved on to better advice. "But as I always say, an ounce of prevention's worth a pound of cure! You're much better off trying one of my charms or meals to-go!"

Panel 2: Asriel lets himself smile more at this suggestion. "Y'know? I'm sold. And also a bit hungry."

Panel 3: Asriel gets up, and drops a handful of coins into Papyrus's open hand, which Papyrus looks at in surprise. Asriel says, "Give me your best demon-warding meal."

Panel 4: Papyrus stares down at the coins in his hand, his eyes cartoonishly big and shiny, full of excitement. "WOWIE!! My FIRST ever sale!" he says with a big smile.

Panel 5: Papyrus leaps up and begins to rummage through some of the boxes and barrels around his collection. "This calls for my finest delicacy!" Asriel watches him from a few steps back, and mutters under his breath, "…First ever?…"

Page 9 Panel 1: Papyrus straightens back up, gesturing to a small sack that he is holding in one hand. He looks pleased with himself. "Spiced candied yam bites, from my home country!"

Panel 2: "Each one will purge you of evil spirits for a whole ten hours!" he continues. He hands the small sack off to Asriel, who takes it from him and says, "Sounds like a good deal." In the background, the annoying dog pops back up from behind some other boxes, holding something in its mouth.

Panel 3: Asriel hefts the bag over his shoulder again, and holds up the sack of treats in acknowledgement of the exchange. "Well, I know where to come if I need more info and good charms."

Panel 4: Papyrus stands proud, both hands on his hips, happy at being able to spout off his knowledge to a stranger. "Yes, yes! Tell all your friends about the fantastic advice and the culinary masterworks of the Great Papyrus!" he says excitedly.

Panel 5: Asriel heads off back into the alleyways, and waves goodbye to Papyrus. The annoying dog follows close behind his steps. Papyrus enthusiastically waves to the two as they leave, and says, "Safe travels to you and your annoying dog!"

Page 10 Panel 1: Papyrus turns back to his collection of trinkets and boxes with a determined look, hands on his hips. "And now to see where that criminal canine buried my special charm…" he says to himself.

Panel 2: While continuing on through the alleyways, Asriel opens the small sack and pulls out one of the candied yam bites.

Panel 3: Asriel glances back down at the dog, and notices that he's carrying something that's making a tinking noise. It's partially hidden from view. "Oh boy, what did you steal now?" he asks with a wry smile.

Panel 4: Asriel takes the yam bite and pops it into his mouth with a crunch…

Panel 5: …Only to then make a face, his eyes wide and his mouth scrunched up, as if tasting something indescribable.

Panel 6: "What IS this flavor?" Asriel asks to himself, although all but his back foot are off-panel. The focus is on the annoying dog, who is shown to be carrying a strange, heart-shaped metal lantern on a chain.

[visionsofmagic]

day 2: ryomen sukuna [breeding kink]

࿓ synopsis • sukuna just wants a womb to put his babies in but it changes when he fucks you.

―❦ nsfw, explicit language, f!reader, heian era!sukuna who has fours arms, concubine!reader, contains of a bit dark themes, licking, marks, pet names, humiliation, sukuna is being sukuna, a bit of fluff, sex addiction, fingering, cum, overstimulation [‘is all I guess?] • 1.8k • the first time I am writing for my favorite villain from jjk. Excited but there can be mistakes. enjoy! [kinktober m.]

“fuck brat!” a dark chuckling, mocking you as his crimson four eyes look at below - at the mess you are making because of his thick cocks inside your walls, deep enough to make it ache like hell yet magnificent enough to give you the pleasure no one can. “look at how my seed is coming out of your pathetic pussy.” 

he doesn’t wait for you to respond- to even comprehend what he’s saying, holding your smaller face by the chin as his palm stays on your cheek. 

he lowers your head down, making you look at his cocks disappearing inside your pussy, and a bit of his hot semen dripping from it to his abdomen. 

“it’s-“ you try to say, sounding husky since you have only moaned, and screamed in the last few hours. closing your eyes, a jolt of electricity mixed with pain and pleasure runs through your body, even in veins, when he moves his hips, thrusting into you one more time before making you sit on his cocks once again - oh, his two damn big cocks should’ve ripped you apart if he wasn’t this gentle, surprisingly calm and gentle because he wants you to stay alive - you will have his legacy inside your womb after all, the reason why he fucks you for the past few hours.

“is it too much?” mocking again, his tongue on the abdomen takes a lick from your abdomen, traveling to your breasts from there, sending another mix of tears and moans.

“suku – aghh!“ a slap on the ass, “my king! oh, it’s - it’s too much! I can’t - I can’t -!” 

he only laughs at your poor attempts, “you can’t?” he asks, not a question though, only a treat as he sounds like pure poison. one of his hands holds you from your neck harshly enough to make you shake in fear for a moment while the other free one caress your hair - the opposite actions of his two arms gives you a dizzying sensation that takes your logical side from you, giving you pure insanity in return.

“be grateful that I fuck you whore,” his other two hands hold your waist as he makes you move forward and backward, riding you slowly. you only hear your own breaths as if there is nothing left inside your lungs, eyes already blurred that look at his bastard but attractive face, hands standing beside you because you have no brain to use them, not anymore, not after he fucked you in 5 different positions already. “there are thousands of women and men who beg for my cocks, you know that, right brat?” 

his hands move from your waist to your ass, grasping the flesh tightly – too tightly to leave red marks as you believe after feeling a sudden heat rushing to the skin he is holding, however, he doesn’t care at all – why he should anyway? you’re just one of his concubines – maybe his favorite one for the moment, and him showing you mercy and a bit of affection – unlike he does for others – doesn’t mean anything; you’re just there to take his hot semen every now and then, whenever he wants to fuck that pussy and brain of yours so that you can have his legacy inside you, heir to him – lots of heirs.

“puff –“ he says, scoffing after that, picking you up – a pathetic and cuckdumbed woman in his arms, he thinks, gazing at your half-closed eyes, agape mouth – salvia running out of it, “disgusting,” he says in a low tone but contrary to his words, his actions are proof that he likes what he sees because he keeps going and going until his eyes travel from that open mouth of yours he wants to put one of his cocks in, to your breasts full of biting marks that turned to red, moving to your pussy from there.

his cocks’ tips standing beneath your pussy that is pouring his semen ‘cause it is too fucking much.

shaking his head in arrogance, he puts your body on his lap with a bridal style, left hands staying on your back while a free one stays on your pussy, caressing it and he watches how your body begins to shake again, a hand is put on his chest, holding his wide open sleeve’s side tightly as if you have right to do that, and even your head fall into his shoulder, breathing rapidly yet lowly as he holds your body close to him.

why he does that – why he allows you to do that; remains unanswered.

he doesn’t think much, not now, he has a desire to put that damn semen into your wide-open pussy.

holding your thighs apart, his fingers – two long and thick fingers enter into your messy slit, white wetness joins into hot walls one by one, and it continues until sukuna is satisfied with it. “do not fucking dare to move now, woman.” he treats you. he sounds he is one step away from breaking your neck if you do move. you should fear him, you know, oppositely, you do otherwise, giving astonishing state to sukuna, making him freeze for a moment when he feels you getting closer to him, a hand travels on his neck, and a head sits on his shoulder, you even open your legs wider.

you don’t say anything, the mouth is too dry to speak aloud; he gets it though – and that gives satisfaction to him, and his responses end with a new position.

being the definition of menace for desires live within him, and you witness it when he puts you on the carpet, hovering below you as he cages you between his four arms, then, one of them appears on your abdomen, pushing it into the floor – gently yet it feels terrifying.

you look into his crimson eyes, hoping to see sanity inside them – what a fool you’re to try searching.

no, no – you think to yourself, conscious coming back even though you're high – he will not fuck you as a concubine now, he will fuck you as if you’re his queen, you’re so sure of it and the words slipping out of his smirking mouth prove you right.

“I will fuck so many babies inside this womb that you won’t be able to even walk, pretty slut,” a compliment, huh, sounds different than you thought, still, gives a jolt of happiness throughout your entire body that lying beneath his massive body, ready to take him one more – or maybe even more – time.  “I will make a fucking queen out of you with my children. don’t you worry whore,”

the only thing you can remember is seeing his big smile – entertaining before the only thing you can comprehend is his presence below you, behind you, under you – hands conquers every part of your body because you’re his – the one who will give him heir, stay beside him, being a fucking queen of kings of curses. “you’re entirely mine now. mine to have – fuccck! – mine to fuck! and mine to breed.”

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina !

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

[I only have 30 pounds in my bank account] - Mafia!TF141*F!Reader

Summary: You sigh when it's the fifth time someone fights in your poor tea shop this month. You just open it two months ago, in an area ruled by mafia called '141'. Maybe you should find their boss and give them money or what to stop the bullshit keeps happening in your shop. (well, here they come)

Mafia!TF141*F!Reader, but only Soap and Ghost in this chapter unless I extend this

chapter 2

You’re just trying to fulfill your dream, plus survive with the money you earn with your shop, but you start questioning if this is a good idea, maybe you should just listen to your friend and be a 9-5 worker, sitting in front of a laptop the whole day.

This isn’t a good location to open a tea shop, your little shop will rather become a place for dealing drugs or getting extorted in the first month. The area is fully ruled by the mafia, hence the cops couldn’t do anything here, but it makes the rent extremely low, which you’re able to afford with money you saved during school, and have a tiny shop that can barely squeeze in more than 8 people.

Looking at the scene playing in your shop for the fifth time this month, you stare at the people fighting and break the cup with dead eyes. You want to shout, to kick these guys' ass out of here or hit them with your broom, yet you glance at their muscles and the knives in their hand –  probably killing every day as work out, to your opposite one because you slump onto the bed once you close the shop and go upstairs, you choose to remain silent as the yelling only become louder.

Maybe you should find the mafia boss or some henchmen and give them half of your income to prevent the mayhem, but first, you don’t even know who actually rules this fucking place; second, you doubt they will have interest in your skimpy bank account. The only information you have is the mafia ruling here called ‘141’, since it’s an open secret to residents here.

“What are ye arseholes doin’?”

Fuck, here comes another one, or two as you spot the man with a balaclava behind the mohawk man who's speaking. They are tall, muscular and built like bricks. Grown like giraffes either, you complement when you need to crook your neck up to look at them stepping into your shop as if it's their backyard.

but the chaos halts immediately as you watch your ‘customers’ seem shocked with terror at the men.

You pretend you’re deaf and attempt to bury yourself in your counter. Please don’t kill me I didn’t hear a goddamn word and didn’t see you threatening them. You recite your defense as you scrub at the same tea cup till the distinct accent from the mohawk man catches you off guard that you almost drop it.

“I guess it’s already clean, lass.” A smirk appears on his face as he points at the cup.

“Wh– what do you want?” 

“Calm down, jus’ want te have some tea.”

“I only have 30 pounds in my bank account.”

“We’re just sayin’ we want tea.” The taller man speaks for the first time after coming in, and it startles you but forces your brain to function at the same time.

Ah, they aren’t here for money. You finally get what they’re talking about.

“Isn’t it supposed te be a tea shop here? One cup for him, and give me a cup of coffee.”

“Oh, of course. What kind of tea would you like, Sir?” You shift slightly to meet the other man’s eyes, and you want to shiver under his cold eyes.

“Just give him whatever you recommend.” 

They round over the glass scattering on the floor and take a seat closest to your counter after you nod at them.

While boiling the water, you sneak a glimpse at them, and the shape of guns covered by their clothes are unignorable as you scold yourself to stop looking at them, or the bigger guy might stab your eyes, but you still curse whole-heartedly in mind when the Scottish accent man meet your eyes with his azure ones and shines you a grin.

Should just quit staring, or you shouldn’t open this shop at all. Regretting your decisions as you turn back and focus back on making their drink, you’re able to recognize them staring at you from the periphery of your vision. Is it too late to kneel down and beg for your life right now?

You still perfectly make their orders and bring them the drinks, even though you’re sweating internally. At least don’t mess it up, and your confidence in your tea and coffee isn’t born from nothing, as you notice the man with the skull balaclava takes a sip first, then raises his eyebrow, added with a side glance at you.

“Haven’t seen him amazed by tea in years, it must be very good.” The mohawk man whistles as he sips at his coffee and gives an approving nod too.

“Thank you…” Your ego shouldn’t be boosted by mafias, but you still relax a bit knowing you didn't screwed up.

“When did ye open ‘is shop?” The man asks while the other continues drinking his tea, but seemingly taking in the conversation too.

“About two months ago."

"That’s why we didn't know about it before…” He taps at the table twice before shooting you another question “Got blokes like those in yer shop earlier often?”

Death sentence is served to your front, that’s what you think you hear. Is it better to say yes or no? Judging by the fact those people are their minions, you’re not sure if saying yes is indicating they haven’t controlled them appropriately.

“Tell us the truth” 

“Yeah, it’s the fifth time this month.” Swallowing, you confirm. Lies aren’t meaningful, and surely they’re able to pierce any veil with those scrutinizing stares and keen minds.

You watch them sharing a glance, and Soap takes out a pen along with a piece of paper, and starts scribbling on it.

“Here, call this number when you run in trouble, aye?" He shoves the paper into your grasp “I’m Soap, call him Ghost.”

"It’s a nice shop, we’ll come back soon.”

Your little shop drops into peace again as your customers leave, and you gaze at the generous tip lying on your counter, to the paper in your palm.

A number is written on it, with a big badge of ‘141’ beside it.

Oh shit, so your shop just became the most far-flung mafia’s property without you knowing.

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat 3

In which sexy construction worker!Rafe who spends his days lifting heavy stuff and building shit (his words) and driving shy!reader home has tense shoulders and she offers to help and he's very grateful...

cw: construction worker!Rafe in a desperate need of a massage, fluff, some heavy making out, slight dry-humping, suggestive

wc: 1.4k

this is a part three to this meant to write something cutesy but knowing them it turned into something filthy (who's surprised) hope you enjoy xx

part 4 part 5

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe has had a tedious workday on the construction site. The ardent sun making him melt like ice under the searing yellow rays and the clock ticking as if it was an ancient turtle not helping one bit. Even after he’s washed the sweat and the dirt off and changed into a clean pair of clothes, his shoulders are strained; muscles aching and legs hurting.  

Every time he tries to move his limbs into a more comfortable position on his couch his face scrunches up into a pained expression. It makes her furrow her brows, asking what’s wrong with worry painting over her features. 

”Nothing, just a bit tense,” he dismisses her, rolling his shoulders back, trying to alleviate the soreness that’s tormenting him; disturbing him from the movie they’re trying to watch as they wait for the casserole he’s made to bake in the oven.

”Oh, I’m sorry. Do you— do you want me to give you a massage or something?” She suggests, wanting to make him feel better. 

”It’s fine, don’t worry about it, Sweetheart,” he murmurs, turning his attention back to the television. 

”No, but Rafe you’re hurting…I wanna help,” there’s a slight pout forming on her mouth as she takes the remote, pausing the film. 

He turns the sapphires of his eyes to face her. The look she’s giving him tugs at his heartstrings and for a moment he wonders what he did to deserve such an angel wanting to take care of him. 

”Yeah? Wanna help me?”

She nods.

Then he’s turning around and bending his legs to sit cross-legged on the sofa; presenting his solid back and broad shoulders to her. 

”Also, I’ve had some practice but I’m no masseuse, so don’t get your hopes up too much,” she says as she scoots closer, raising on her knees behind him in order to reach his tall frame.

”You give massages to a lot of people?” He asks, teasing, seemingly nonchalant but there’s a part of him that’s eager to find out whether he’s getting special treatment from her.

”No, I just meant when I was little me and my friends used to do these massage therapy circles and we’d take turns. But now I’m a little rusty since it’s obviously been a while,” she explains. 

”Good,” is all he offers in response, making something abstruse in her tummy flutter. 

She then settles her hands on his wide shoulder blades that lie underneath the white fabric of his t shirt, digging into his skin; feeling the sturdy muscle under her fingertips. 

”You want me to take my shirt off? So it’s easier?” He casually suggests and her cheeks heat up.

”Oh— um…yeah, if you want,” her voice does not sound as indifferent as his which makes the corners of his strawberry mouth curl up as he plucks at the collar of his shirt, exposing solid back muscles and soft skin to stare back at her. 

She blinks. 

Hesitantly, she rests her hands on top of his shoulders once again and begins kneading her fingers into his brawny structure. 

A heartfelt groan rumbles from his chest, making her swallow at the lewd sound as she continues to press into the parts that feel the most strained. 

”Just tell me if something feels bad or if you want me to focus on a specific spot and stuff,” she murmurs as her thumbs sink into his tense flesh, feeling him beginning to unspool under her ministrations. 

He hums out a soft agreement, contentment coating his tone. 

However, when she presses into a particularly taut part of muscle tissue, he suddenly lets out a low-pitched noise from the back of his throat, sounding almost obscene to her ears; reminding her of the night they shared a few days ago. 

It makes her squeeze her thighs together, trying to drag her head out of the gutter. 

“Fuck, that feels nice,” he grunts out, closing his eyes in ecstasy. He thinks she lied when she said that she wasn’t too good because he’s not sure if his shoulders have ever felt this mellow. 

He’s practically muddy clay under her tender fingertips and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be right now. He feels so relaxed he could almost fall asleep.

She continues digging her thumbs into his achy flesh for some time until her fingers begin to feel so sore she thinks they’ll fall off if she doesn’t stop. 

”Sorry, my fingers hurt, can’t anymore,” she softly apologizes and he turns around to face her again; a lazy grin coating his grateful countenance. 

”It’s all good, feels so much better now. Thanks, Sweetheart,” he says while he rolls his shoulders back for emphasis; no hint of any sort of agony in sight. 

”Of course, if um— if you need me to do that again, just ask, okay?” 

”You’re so good to me, you know that?” Carolina blue is peering down at her with a certain tenderness that makes her feel all fuzzy and tingly inside. ”That was nothing. I mean, it was the least I could do after all the times you’ve driven me home and stuff.”

”I’m serious, you just spent almost an hour turning my muscles into jelly. Let me thank you properly,” he murmurs. 

”What— what do you mean?” Her breath hitches. 

”What I’m saying is, haven’t been able to stop thinking about you grinding yourself on top of me, you know?” He says as he lifts his left arm in order to tuck a loose strand of her behind her ear; fingers lingering on her jawline.

She freezes, not sure how to respond as his thumb strokes along her cheekbone and he tips her face up with an index finger tucked under her chin. 

”Was so caught up in it all, forgot to kiss you…” he drifts off, clouded gaze flitting over her features. “You want me to?”

”You mean…right now?” Her eyes round out, barely managing to shove the words out from the gaps of her teeth. ”Unless, you have somewhere else to be?” The edges of his mouth tilt and when she shakes her head he leans closer, pressing his lips on hers in a tender kiss. 

However, when a faint noise of surprise escapes her, he deepens it; warm tongue prodding at the seam of her mouth, coaxing her to open. 

When she eventually does, he slips his tongue in, groaning when he can taste the muted sweetness of the vanilla chapstick she’s wearing. 

Something that was meant to be soft and sweet turns into something heated and primal as she holds his face in her palms. He paws at her waist, bringing her closer and lifting her to sit on his lap with a steady grip on her hips. 

She’s straddling his thighs as his hands travel down to squeeze at the flesh of her ass, forcing her to let out fragile whimpers into his mouth as he continues to swallow her up. 

“There we go, Sweetheart. That’s a lot better, yeah?” He murmurs between soft pecks and sloppy kisses.

Their spit-slick lips lock together again and again; her thighs becoming sticky and mind wandering in a hazy vapor.

“Rafe…” she nearly whispers and she doesn’t even realize she’s rutting against the bulge in his pants until he’s grunting, blunt nails denting her skin. 

The slight pain makes her whine and then he’s pushing her against his hardening cock firmer, pillowy lips smearing on hers all wet and messy; turning her into a moaning jumble, trying her best to keep up with his hungry mouth. 

All of a sudden, completely out of the blue, the timer of the oven begins ringing. It makes her jump in surprise; nearly falling off his lap, if not for his beefy arms holding her upright, not missing a beat. 

He lets out an airy chuckle against her swollen lips and presses a few sweetened pecks on them, reluctantly pulling away. His heavy panting fills her ears for a few seconds as she tries to even out her own rickety respiration. 

Then he’s gently setting her on top of the couch cushions and standing up on his feet; a disconcerted pout following his movements. 

“Shit, better go check on the food so it doesn’t burn, yeah?” He’s sporting a lazy, taunting smile as he offers his right palm to her; lifting her up on unsteady legs that try their best to follow him like a needy kitten as he disappears into the kitchen that bathes under the burnt orange of the setting sun. 

[phant0mth1ef]

more of bakugou x support course reader!

after you’d fixed his gauntlets, he realized just how much you’d improved them as he was training in class one day, noticing how they’re able to withstand his blasts as if nothing had happened, and noticing that you etched the word dynamight onto the rim of the silver at the bottom of the grenade shaped gauntlet.

he found himself in the support course work room once again, looking aroundbto see if he could find you to, well, somewhat thank you and ask if you had any other recommendations to add to his costume.

his shoes hit the floor as he was able to fully see the room during the day, watching as the students shuffled around and didn’t just casually cater to someone standing in their doorway, they were too engrossed in their own projects.

he grabbed one’s shoulder as they tried to speed by him, almost dropping the poor boy as his items fell on the floor.

“where’s extra #1?” he asked, his eyes squinting at the boy who just wanted to grab his things and go.

“who?” the boy squeaked.

“extra #1!” he whisper shouted as the confusion on the boy’s face never faltered.

“…”

“l/n.” he finally gave up, realizing the boy wasn’t gonna understand what he meant.

“oh! she’s currently over at mirko’s agency! she designs support gear for her y’know! she’s so talented.” the boy gushed as bakugou swore he saw a slight blush on his cheeks before pushing him forward and letting him go, walking out the door.

he normally wouldn’t do this. but oh man did he really need that support gear today! the boy was walking around town looking for the number 5 hero’s agency, even stopping some people on patrol to ask!

he was outside the doors, watching with anticipation as he looked inside, watching power loader scold you, a sheepish smile on your face.

bakugou opened the doors, a soft music playing in the background as he caught the end of your conversation with the teacher.

“and get your grades up or i’m taking your keys to the lab!”

you put a hand behind your neck as you looked towards who had just walked in the door, a look of confusion on your face as you spotted the blonde hero in training.

you had grease on your face and dirt covering your arms up to your elbows, and yet he didn’t find himself completely repulsed, just fascinated.

“bakugou? what’re you doing here?” you spoke, a large screw in your hand as you waved him over.

“i, uh, i need your help with something.”

you nodded.

“d’ya have anymore recommendations for me? like to add onto my hero outfit? i liked the way you messed with my gauntlets.

“you came all the way over here to ask me that?” your tone was questioning, and your face wasn’t having any of it.

“listen! i’ve got a mission soon and if you do have anything to add i want it on by then! got it, extra?!” he got defensive quick.

“are you forgetful or do you just like to piss me off?”

he was stubborn, you were stubborn.

the perfect match for one another!

“tch. y’know what i don’t even know why i bothered coming out here! clearly you’re just an egotistical asshole.” he turned around.

“fine! then go! i’m not exactly asking to design your support gear anyway! bitch.” you said with pride, although you whispered the last part.

as the door jingled, signaling his exit, you could hear footsteps approaching from behind you.

“well well well, seems like we’ve found someone with enough spunk to finally match yours!” mirko clapped, announcing that out loud to everyone who was sitting in the lobby.

“tch. he wishes.”

“i dunno, the way you were talking to each other, i’d say there’s some romantic tension there, aren’t i right akari?” she turned to her assistant who nodded.

the next day bakugou showed up to the lab, just sitting there waiting to be acknowledged, although you blatantly ignored him the whole time he was there, going on with your day while people from his class walked in and were instantly assisted, even deku.

he would sit there and wait. and that’s all he’d do. day after day for a whole week before you finally begun to notice him sitting there.

“alright i can’t focus with you huffing and puffing in the corner over there!” you dropped your tools, clanking against one another as they hit your workspace.

“i don’t want to help you. but you’ve got persistence. i’ll give you that.” you said as you grabbed some things from a drawer, shoving them into his chest.

“what’s this?”

“a mix of different things. smaller compact grenades that pack a bigger punch than your other ones, these are ear plugs that’ll allow you to hear without damaging your hearing further, this is a roll of tape. for you to shut up.” you gave a chesire grin at the last one.

surprisingly, he chuckled. he didn’t think he’d ever find someone who… “matched his freak,” as mina would describe it.

he also found himself liking the feeling of sitting there and watching you in your element, so much that he begun to come in after classes just to chat with you while you worked.

you weren’t as bad as he thought, he wasn’t as bad as you thought.

you could get used to this.