#its been so hard wanting badly to keep playing the game

[uldrenssov]

i just learned about the stompees nerf. goodbye.

[sweetnotgentle]

spoilers

[theplumsoldier]

sore loser

summary: the scales of your rivalry with joel miller tips in his favor as he calls out your mistake and you end up a loser. the classic "you hate your partner but fucks him anyway"

pairing: mean!joel miller x afab!reader

warnings: 18+ please and thank you, hate sex, rough vaginal sex, spitting, slapping, choking, fingering, squirting, sloppy/rough blow job, degradation, age-gap, begging, biting, mean!joel, forced orgasm & multiple orgasms, tasting joel's blood?? no aftercare please let me know if i missed anything!! (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

You hated everything about him. You hated the way he looked, the way he spoke, and the way he walked. You hated how he was always confident, how he was always right, and the fact that he always knew which buttons to push. You hated how he was a better shooter than you, how he was better at finding supplies than you, and how he was better at tracking than you. You hated his salt-and-pepper beard, the curls in his hair, and his sun-kissed skin. You hated his brown eyes, his deep voice, and his large hands. You hated how he treated you like a child, how he called you "kid", and how he looked after you.

Most of all, right now, you hated that he shot the clicker before you managed to put a knife to its skull, how he made it look like you couldn't save yourself. He took the win and he got the point.

It was a game and you were losing this battle for dominance, and you hated losing to Joel Miller.

You had been biting your tongue so damn hard to keep yourself from stooping down on his level and the taste of blood lingered in your mouth for about 4 minutes before the last straw had been drawn.

Joel just couldn't stop himself from being an ass and work in yet another one of his snarky remarks.

"Get over yourself, Miller. I had it handled," you grumbled.

"Sure looked like it," he retorted sarcastically, making scattering noises as he dug through a crate in the warehouse.

The way he didn't even bother looking at you only made you more furious. "How the fuck do you think I survived this long on my own, huh? I've been—"

"Ask myself that every time I save your ass," he interrupted mockingly.

Your blood was boiling in your veins. He felt so fucking superior and it was driving you insane. You knew your worth, but for some reason, you had this crippling urge to prove yourself.

"Somebody needs to knock you off your fucking horse, Miller."

Joel chuckled grimly. "S'that right, sweetheart? Wanna give it a go?"

His infuriating words made you stand to your feet, and frankly, it excited Joel to see you acting like you might just do something about it.

With a groan he got up himself, easily towering over you. You swallowed harshly, jaw clenched.

Joel's face was set in a firm expression, dark eyes analyzing your face to predict your next move. It was a face-off.

There was a subtle smirk and you wanted to wipe it off so badly. This was entertaining to him—a challenge he joined, a game he played just for the kick of it.

You couldn't win a fight against him, you were smart enough to recognize that fact (at least for now). So you breathed out, your nervousness drawing out a shaky laugh.

"I hate you," you spat and turned around, sure you'd only dig a deeper hole for yourself if you looked at him any longer.

"That what you tell yourself when you dip your little fingers down between your legs?" he wondered aloud, not even testing the waters but diving head first into the lake of all your buttons that he planned to push: "Don't think I don't hear you moaning my name when you get off in the night."

Your eyes went wide and shame colored your cheeks pink. You hoped he wouldn't notice as your eyes shot daggers, completely dumbfounded, hoped your anger had already made your face red. You were at a loss for words, completely and utterly embarrassed.

The mixture of emotions compiled a message to your brain for you, and before you had a chance to regret it, you lashed out. Your hand stopped clenching and raised to deliver a well-deserved proper bitch-slap, but Joel caught your wrist. It all happened quickly, and it felt like you were watching on rather than being forced back against the wall, arms suspended against the cool and rough cement in his grasp.

Joel's head cocked, eyes blazing down at you. "You wanna try that again, sweetheart?"

The sudden close proximity made you involuntarily grind your hips forward.

"So that's what all this s'about, huh? You’ve been givin' me that bratty attitude 'cause ya got your panties in a twist?"

"Fuck you!" you snapped, the words seething through your grit teeth, leaving a bad aftertaste on your tongue.

"But that's what you want, innit sweetheart? Goin' around acting like I'm the devil's spawn, but really you just want a good fucking, yeah?"

You hated how he was always right.

Your arms strained in his grasp, writhing to get loose though the heat pooling between your legs protested. You enjoyed having him this close. You could smell him, see him.

"You're so fucking full of yourself, Miller," you snarled but had stopped trying to fight off his grip.

Joel chuckled down at you, tutting: "F’you wanna be full o' me, too, darlin', all you gotta do is ask nicely."

There was no fucking way he was actually offering to fuck you. It had to be a dream. A nightmare. But it wasn't. And he was offering exactly that, you realized as his head tilted. He was dead serious.

You knew it wasn't out of the good of his heart, so he must be wanting this, too. And if he needed it as much as you did, you were going to make him work for it.

You ground your hips into his again, this time very much on purpose.

"Tell me you don't want to bend me over right now, Miller," you leaned forward and whispered in his ear, letting your lips graze the soft flesh of his neck. His cock was hard against your cunt and he didn't do a thing to push you away. "Tell me you haven't just been dying to try out this tight pussy. An old man like you can't have had a proper fuck in ages."

He laughed. "Swallow your pride, sweetheart. You've never even been with a real man before, have ya? Always waltzin' around in your short skirts at the Byson, whoring yourself out for attention from those boys."

"Knew you'd been checking me out," you smirked, the movements of your hips now a consistent grind against him. "But you're right. And those boys can't help, they dunno how to handle me."

"I don't do charities, darlin'. F’you want me to fuck that shitty attitude out of ya, you're gonna have to prove yourself."

This time around, Joel pushed his clothed cock against your pussy and you knew what he wanted.

You wriggled your hands, inching closer to his face but never letting your skin touch. "Kinda difficult to get on my knees when you’re holding me like this, innit?"

Joel let go only to force you down on the ground, but you didn't protest. You had lost all filters, all of your arrogance as you were faced with his cock prodding at the zipper of his jeans.

Looking up as you eagerly undid his belt, you were pleased to see him inhaling deeply, proudly as he looked down on you. You pulled the zipper down, and your breath hitched as his cock saluted. He wasn't wearing underwear.

His cock was thicker than you had imagined, girthier than what you had felt while fingering yourself that night which he had so mockingly reminded you of. Long with a slight curve and a purple mushroom head unscathed. A drop of pre-cum covered the slit and you imagined it was crying for you.

"You gonna put that bratty little mouth to good use or do I gotta do that for you, too?"

Instinctively you glared up at him, giving him a look but it was washed away a second later as he took charge.

Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Joel forced you onto his cock, not giving you a second to wet your lips or spit on it. Harshly pushing you down on his cock, you found that it wasn't needed, there was plenty of saliva in your mouth to lubricate him. A whimper left you when his head hit the back of your mouth, your throat automatically constricting at the sudden intrusion. You felt your cunt mimic the reaction and clenched around nothing.

Joel was heavy in your mouth, the thickness making you worry the back row of your teeth would scrape him. If they did he didn't care, for when you looked up at him through teary eyes he was unconcerned.

He forcefully prodded against your throat, slipping in just enough to push further and you gagged.

Joel inhaled sharply. "S'a tight little throat you got there. Guess you haven't been whoring around as much as I thought," he chuckled, holding your face pressed firmly against him, your nose nuzzled in the patch of curls.

He held you there for a couple of seconds, allowing your throat to get adjusted despite acting seemingly careless about how you felt. A moment later he pulled you off by your hair, and you gasped hoarsely, blinking up at him through the tears slowly blurring your vision.

Hovering over you, Joel cupped your cheeks and lifted you slightly, bending down as he did. For a second you thought he was going to kiss you, but his fingers dug into your face, forcing your mouth open for him and he spat on your tongue, an obscene look on his face.

"Eyes on the price, sweetheart," he chuckled and landed you back on your knees.

With his hand holding you tightly by a makeshift ponytail, Joel pushed his cock back into your mouth and without warning, set a brutal pace sure to give you a headache. As slick gathered between your legs, a migraine was the least of your worries. You snaked a hand between your legs to relieve the tingling strain.

The breaths you were granted came in between the thrusts and you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling dizzy, prompting him to yank at your hair.

"Look at me," he grunted coarsely, voice going straight to your sex and you ground down hard on your hand, gasping for air. Joel admired your puffy lips, smeared with saliva, strings of drool connecting your mouth to the tip of his cock. "You look like a fuckin' mess, sweetheart. This what you been thinkin' about, hm? Been thinking 'bout acting like a little slut f'me, huh?"

His degrading words fueled your fire, both making you want to bite back at him and make him come down your throat. Opting for the latter, you tried to take him back in your mouth, wanting to put your adjusted throat to good use, but he yanked you back. A whimper left your lips and he slapped your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

"F'you know what's good for you, you'll answer when I ask you a question."

Wet and needy, you didn't hesitate. "Yes! Yes, Joel," you cried, one hand on his hip for purchase, the other hid between your legs, fervently toying with your clit. "Wanted you to treat me like a whore! Wa—wanted you to fuck me stupid!"

That's when he noticed your hand between your legs, eagerly seeking out friction. His brows connected in a crease of anger, and he had you on your wobbly legs one moment and hurled you onto a dirty surface the next.

"The fuck you think you're doin', huh? Touching yourself without permission?" Joel growled and for the first time his disappointment got to you.

He held you by your throat and you could feel the calluses in his palm scrape your skin.

"M'sorry—couldn't help myself," you babbled feverishly as he shoved a hand down your undone pants, feeling just what you had been so disrespectful to touch.

A guttural moan escaped him and you could have died just then, knowing you did that to him.

"Christ, sweetheart. You got this wet from chokin' on my cock, huh?" he mused absent-minded and you couldn't decide which you liked more; Joel calling you "sweetheart" or— "such a fuckin' slut.”

You were startled but thankful when he pulled down your jeans in one swift movement, exposing you to the cold air in the warehouse.

He didn't give you a warning before he plunged two fingers into your cunt, curling them against the velvety roof of your wet cave. Clawing onto his shoulder with a gasp of surprise, you instinctively tried to lift yourself and relieve the overwhelmingly intense feeling.

"Where you goin', sweetheart? This not what you wanted?" You desperately wanted to slap the grin off of his face, but he had you completely wrapped around his finger. Literally and figuratively. "Didn't you wanna be used like a little slut, hm?"

"Please," you begged, drawing the word out with a rugged moan and clutching to his shoulders. "Ff—uck!"

He fingered you at an unforgiving pace, three fingers and his palm slapping against your cunt each time. The squelches from your pussy resonated off the bare walls and if you hadn't been so focused on the pain mixing with pleasure, you would have been ashamed Joel was the one making you this wet.

"Joel!" you cried, tugging at the front of his shirt. "Plea-please! Need your cock!"

He choked you with his unoccupied hand, forcing your face inches from his. "Quit whinin' or I'll leave you 'ere," he threatened.

You looked up at him through hooded eyes, unable to comprehend your increasing lust for him from being this close. Joel's breath was hot on your face, breathing his air, you became dizzy from a mix of him and your impending orgasm.

"That's right, sweetheart, cream all o'er my fingers," he beckoned, feeling your contracting walls squeeze his fingers. Your legs were trembling, wanton moans spilling from your lips as Joel pulled an orgasm from you.

You incoherently begged him to fill you up, wanting nothing more than to milk his thick cock, but when he caught sight of your pleading eyes, he applied pressure to your clit instead. It was sore from the heel of his palm having slapped it repeatedly and it made you unable to come down from your high properly.

Your legs spasmed as his torturous fingers brutally skirted across your bundle of nerves. Before you could process what happened, a gush of pleasure sprayed from you.

Your cheeks flushed pink, realizing Joel had just made you squirt. You had never done that before, and you looked at him with an expression of surprise mixed with confusion. He looked proud.

Joel groaned as he stroked his throbbed cock, smearing the precum over the head while his other hand pushed down hard on your belly, holding you just at the edge of the table.

Stammering his name, your attempt at any sort of coherent sentence was foiled as he slid his girthy cock into your cunt.

Your eyes fluttered shut, walls clenching around him. You had never felt so full. "Joel—" you shuddered, gripping his bicep for purchase.

A string of curses left his lips, a crease knitting his brows together in concentration. "Fuckin' hell, sweetheart, s'a tight lil' hole ya got 'ere."

Joel wanted to take a moment just then, revel in the sweet clench of your pussy, catch his breath but he knew you would notice. As much as he had a hidden desire to ruin every other man for you and have you tail him like a lost puppy, he refused to acknowledge how overdue this was.

He didn't give you another second to adjust before he rocked his hips back and slammed his cock back into you. If you thought his fingers hit a spot, his cock fucking destroyed that.

You couldn't even form moans properly as his hips rutted at a bruising pace, expertly molding your cunt to fit him. His face contorted and he grumbled something under his breath, but you didn't care to ponder what as he filled you up. You were still dazed from the previous orgasms and it was like he wouldn't allow you to come down. Your ragged breaths, his grunts, and the wanton sounds of skin slapping filled your head as you soared around on cloud nine.

A large hand snuck under your shirt, the calluses on his palm rough against your skin but you loved the feeling as he squeezed your breast, thumb and index pinching your nipple.

Your knuckles turned pale from clutching down hard on his shoulders, fingernails clawing indents at the exposed skin on his neck and collar.

You hoped the crescents would outlast this moment, that Joel would curse at the sight the next time he looked in a mirror. You hoped he wouldn't be able to get this moment out of his head then, not ever, thinking back to this moment whenever he would see the scars you left on him.

A hiss escaped you and tore the thought of making your mark out of your mind. His deft fingers were rubbing your sore clit once again.

There was determination on his face and animalistic hunger in his dark eyes—he looked as if there was no getting through to him, like he was stuck in a world of his own.

Whether he insisted on drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you for your pleasure or his ego, you did not know. Joel always had something to prove—to himself or the people around him, it was another thing about him you didn't know. In this moment, as he chased every high for you, you didn't care either.

You hated him for making you feel this good. Hated him for making you moan in pleasure, hated him for making your legs shake uncontrollably. You wanted to taunt him, crack a spiteful comment about his age or something, let him know he wasn't doing as well as he thought—but he was. You could lie, but your body would betray you.

There was no snide comment left in you as Joel's hips pistoned into yours. It felt too good. He felt too good.

"S'too much," you gasped and held onto his shoulder, not pushing him away but not pulling him any closer either. "I can't."

The pressure on your clit was too much. The frantic rubbing, the harsh pads of his fingers, mixing pleasure with pain in the most unforgiving way. It hurt too good to want to stop him, though.

Joel surprised you, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes were heavy, and his jaw was slack, the blissful expression ruined by a smug chuckle.

"You can. C'mon, sweetheart, I believe in you," he tutted like one would to a child riding a bike for the first time.

It spurred something inside you, the degradation. Your hooded, watery eyes caught sight of his plump lip through the blur and without a second thought, you lunged forward and bit it, your teeth piercing the soft skin.

It was the closest thing you would get to feeling them, you knew it, and you weren't about to beg for a taste.

A slap landed on your cheek, sharp and stinging, but he kept his hand there on the side of your face, cupping it in an almost endearing way.

Joel hissed at the taste of blood—surprised but not disgusted. The hand cupping your face in the sweetest way turned to force your mouth open, and you grinned bitterly when he spat on your tongue, tasting his blood.

His thrusts became more frantic, the pad of his thumb sloppily skipping over your clit as he draws your pleasure out. Forcing you to look into his eyes while you come around his cock, Joel's too far gone watching you to notice the way his balls tightened.

"Fuck—"

Slick with your juices Joel slips out of your clenching pussy, jerking his cock a few pumps as he hisses, strings of milky sperm decorating your abdomen.

Your heavy breaths hang in the room like thick syrup, bodies sticky, tension at a maximum as the lust turns back to hatred.

Joel moves from you with a grunt, a sly smirk on his lip as he moves his gaze from the mess on your stomach to your eyes. He leaves you to clean yourself up and tucks his softening cock into his pants, the zipper resounding comically loud through the silence. It reminds you of a secret between children, zipping your lips close as a solemn pledge.

It was over and it would never be brought up again. As you did your best to clean up, get back into your clothes, and comb your fingers through your hair, your eyes were trained on Joel's back—if eyes could kill and all that.

At once, you were back to hating one another. You hoped your nails had dug deep enough into his shoulder, hard enough to leave scars.

[hwayangyeon]

NSFW gamer jake x gamer reader // you and jake play league together and argue a lot but somehow you end up on his lap // teasing, a lot touching, public bathroom sex (again) // 1.2k words

it's a little goofy // you don't have to know anything about league // not much about penetraton just a lot of touching // viego is a league character

"jesus, it's you again," you saw a familiar nickname in the lobby, "try not to lose for once?"

it's pretty reasonable for you two to end up on the same team since not so many people play at this hour. you recognize some of the players from previous matches, but only seeing this one makes you want to quit. can he ever get on the enemy team? or better, can he stop coming to this pc room?

it might be late, but after you finish your night shift, it's the perfect time for you to play. it's usually just the two of you and some kids watching porn in the back, hiding from their mothers. it's nice and quiet, well, when you don't flame each other.

"and why would you ban my champion?" the guy sitting across from you looked at you, tired. he's gotten used to you being the worst teammate he's ever had to deal with.

"so you don't suck at it. play something better."

"bitch."

"asshole."

it did not start well for your team. the support forgot to buy items, mid was afk for four minutes and you are losing your own lane. it's going to be really hard to turn it around, the enemy team is too far ahead.

"can you ever come top? the enemy jungler has ganked me eight times already, what the fuck have you been doing?" you looked over your screen.

"fuck off. i stole two dragons if you haven't noticed," his eyes focused on the game.

"i don't care about the dragons, everyone is fed. what's a dragon going to change? do something."

"don't feed then. stop whining and learn how to play, bitch."

he's too concentrated for a match going this bad. his brows furrowed, bottom lip fighting for its life between his sharp teeth. they'd probably look nice if he ever smiled. no wonder he has nothing to smile about in his life if he always plays this badly. oh shit, you're back in the game.

after successfully destroying towers and going as far as the enemy inhibitors, the game eventually ends with a red, humiliating text appearing on your screen. DEFEAT.

the room gets filled with all sorts of insults.

"please, delete your account," you take off your headset and stand up. enough for today. you don't like ending with a loss but knowing your luck you'd get placed with him again.

"shut up. i only lose whenever i play with you," he points his finger at you, "come, see my match history," he then signals for you to look at his screen, his eye wide, shocked from you having the audacity to flame him.

you walk around the desk and move in his direction, "yeah because you're not used to the high e–"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, CAN YOU TWO FINALLY SHUT UP?" you hear the owner yell behind you, it scares the shit out of you making you trip over a chair and lose balance. jake grabs your hips and you end up on his lap. not that he cares if you fell on the ground, it was an instinct.

you want to stand up as soon as you sit, but the man continues and you're taken aback, "YOU KEEP YELLING AT EACH OTHER, EVEN THE GUYS WATCHING PORN AREN'T AS LOUD AS YOU. IF YOU DON'T SHUT YOUR MOUTHS I'M GONNA KICK YOU OUT."

you both stay silent because of the shock. you feel like two kids being scolded for making noise past curfew.

you want to stand up again but the man keeps going, "look, guys, i'm sorry for lashing out at you. it's just my wife, she's leaving me," his tone unexpectedly changes.

you're frozen, not fully acknowledging the position you're in. jake's left hand is still on your hip.

"like, i can't understand why would she do that to me," the man closes his eyes and sighs. jake's fingers slowly climb under the hem of your shirt. they're asking for permission and you're not denying it.

"we've been together for twenty years..." you feel his warm touch on your skin, it makes you straighten up a little.

"we were perfect together! do you guys get me?" he suddenly asks you and you both nod without thinking, jake's hand immediately stops as if you were caught cheating on a test.

"and she wants to take the kids too! ridiculous..." the man looks away from you as if he was looking for a solution to end his misery. jake resumes his movement. he squeezes your waist softly, his fingers sinking into your flesh.

"no, i can't allow her to do that... i'm their father," his thumb making its way lower, pressing on your back dimple, causing you to arch. shit, that's exactly where guys you hook up with put their hands when they're fucking you.

"they must live with me," his touch is so gentle, yet you're melting. it feels like he's sculpting your body as if you were made out of clay.

"have i signed a prenup? i can't have her take the house," his hand travels to your abdomen, pushing you back lightly so you lean back on his chest, relaxing your tensed-up body. he has so much control over you.

"i built it with my own hands!" you can feel him staring at your side profile, probably smirking seeing how worked up he got you. but you can't look at him, not with that red blush on your face.

"that bitch... i should've seen this coming. my mother was right about her," your head falls back to touch his, he gets a little carried away because of the sweet scent of your hair, it makes him lean against you. fuck, he smells good for a league player too.

"anyway," the man finally finishes his monologue, "YOU IN THE BACK, SHUT UP!" he completely ignores you and goes to yell at the kids for being noisy.

"you could've just said you were craving my attention," the guy behind you whispers into your ear.

———

"fuck," jake pins you onto the bathroom stall, your back is starting to hurt from you pushing each other at the walls, not being able to get enough of yourselves, "i'm close."

he grabs your ass and holds you up, his face buried in your neck, biting it because of how amazing his dick feels inside you. his release is almost there too.

your hands lost in his hair, trying to bring him even closer. some people say there is a fine line between love and hate, but it's even thinner between hate and lust.

"jake!" your moan announces your climax. oh it feels so good for him, having you scream his name after how you belittled his gaming skills.

he follows you right after and helps you stand on your own, but he doesn't pull out yet.

"i can go another round," his voice breathy, lips glistening with saliva he produced while kissing your neck. his hair completely messy, thanks to you.

"how can you be this good at fucking but suck so bad at viego, jake 123?"

after hotel.

[stop4death]

now i'm covered in you

note: i need her. badly. also i love patrick and i do not condone cheating its just for the plot and also bc i wanted to reference ivy sorry!

pairing: stanford!tashi duncan x fem!stanford!reader

summary: when you and your best friend, tashi, decide to have a movie night in her dorm room, you can’t seem to pay attention. your boredom turns into unexpected fun when she suggests a game of truth or dare.

warnings: nsfw 18+ (MDNI!), smut, fluff, cheating (again, i love patrick and i do not condone cheating), oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), please lmk if i forgot anything

word count: 1.6k

posted: may 28th 2024

what would he do if he found us out?

Everything about your best friend is perfect to you. Her eyes. Her hair. Her lips. The way her face lights up whenever she sees you. The way her head falls back when you make her laugh just a little too hard at one of your stupid jokes. The only thing you don’t find perfect is the fact that she has a boyfriend. Tashi and Patrick have been going out since they met last summer, now you and Tashi are in the middle of the spring quarter of your first year at Stanford. You like Patrick (and his friend, Art, who coincidentally also goes to Stanford). He’s a good looking guy, and Tashi is happy with him. You just can’t help the soul crushing jealousy that consumes you every time he comes to visit her and you have to watch them be all lovey-dovey at your lunch table. 

“Hello? Are you even watching?” Tashi giggles and you snap back to reality, where you’re sitting on the floor of your best friend's dorm room drinking cheap beer and watching a rom com on your laptop.

“Sorry.” you laugh softly, “I just can’t pay attention to a movie right now.”

It’s a Friday night, and the two of you decided you didn’t feel like going out. You settled on a movie night in Tashi’s dorm, but your mind keeps wandering off. The two of you are already a bit tipsy at this point. Tashi shuts your laptop and looks at you, pursing her lips. 

“Let’s play a game or something.”

“Like what?” you ask, smiling at her.

“I don’t know… truth or dare?”

You laugh at the suggestion, thinking she’s joking.

“What are we in middle school again?”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun. I want you to stop zoning out.” she pokes your side playfully and grins.

“Okay, fine. Truth or dare?” you start off.

“Dare.” 

“Okay… um… I dare you to…” you pause and look around, trying to think of something, “text Patrick right now and tell him you’re pregnant.” You laugh at how stupid it is, but it was the first thing that came to your mind. Tashi rolls her eyes at you and reaches for her cellphone on her nightstand. She types out a message to Patrick and sends it, and turns her phone around to you to prove that she actually did it. You laugh with your hand over your mouth, in disbelief that she actually did it, but Tashi has never been one to chicken out on a dare. She puts her phone down on the floor next to her, then she pushes your shoulder playfully and you pretend to fall backwards.

“I hate you.” she says, but she smiles as she says it. “Truth or dare?” she says it with a hint of vengeance in her voice, so you decide to go with truth for now. 

“Truth.”

“Okay… um… well our first year of college is almost over and you haven’t gone on a date or shown interest in or even hooked up with anyone. Is there anyone you… have a crush on? In one of your classes or something?” she asks with a slight smirk on her face.

“Um… yeah.” you say as your cheeks go red and you look down at your hands. She gives you a knowing smirk, but she doesn’t press any further, knowing it’s her turn now.

“Truth.” she says, not waiting for you to ask her.

“Hmm… have you ever lied to me?” you ask nervously.

“Yes.” she says plainly. You furrow your eyebrows, but you don’t ask any follow ups, thinking you’ll ask her what about the next time she chooses truth. “Truth or dare?”

“Mm.. dare.” you hesitate, but you don’t want her asking who you have a crush on if you were to choose truth.

“I dare you to kiss me.” she says it so casually, and you’re sure you must’ve misheard her. Your mind must be playing tricks on you.

“What?”

“I dare you to kiss me.” she repeats, and your mouth falls open a little bit in shock.

“W-what about Patrick?” you ask hesitantly.

“It’s just a dare, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. He doesn’t have to know.”

She’s so nonchalant about it all, meanwhile you feel like your heart is going to explode out of your chest at any second. You hesitate for a moment, but then you lean closer to her almost instinctively, as if you’ve been possessed. You’ve waited years for this opportunity, and you weren’t going to let the thought of upsetting some boy get in the way of it. You place a hand on her cheek gently, and lean in further, pressing your lips against hers. They’re just as soft and sweet as you’d always imagined they’d be. You expect it to be over within seconds, but Tashi leans in further, placing a hand on the back of your neck and deepening the kiss. You can’t help but think about how wrong this is, but you really don’t care. You push the thoughts away and focus on the fact that you’re kissing your best friend right now. Tashi pushes you back on her floor, your head hitting one of the pillows the two of you had laid out for your movie night, and gets on top of you. You slide your hands down her sides and rest them on her hips as she continues to kiss you. She slides one hand under your t-shirt and squeezes one of your breasts, and you let out a soft moan into her lips. 

“Is this okay?” she asks softly, and you nod. 

“Yes. Yes.” you say through soft gasps. She kisses you again, sucking and biting on your bottom lip. She removes her hand from your shirt and slides it down to the waistband of your shorts. She rubs your hip gently before she slides her hand into your shorts. You moan softly at the feeling of her hand on your clothed heat.

“So wet.” she says quietly between kisses as she traces gentle circles around your clit through your underwear. She moves her hand out of your shorts and your hips buck upwards at the sudden lack of her touch. She smiles as she stops kissing you, and moves down. She pushes your legs apart and looks up at you, her head between your legs. She gently tugs at the waistband of your shorts, and pulls them down along with your underwear. You spread your legs apart further and she smirks at you.

“Look at you… dripping wet for me already. So desperate for my touch. You’ve wanted this for a long time, huh?”

Your breath hitches as you look down at her between your legs. She kisses your inner thigh and your entire body feels like it’s on fire. She continues to place kisses along your inner thigh, moving closer and closer to your heat. You moan as her tongue delves into your folds, lapping at your wetness. 

“Fu- Fuck! Tashi!” you barely manage to choke out through moans as she sucks on your clit. You grip onto the blanket underneath you and arch your back. She moves one of her hands up and teases your entrance with her middle and ring fingers before slipping them into your tight pussy and thrusting them in and out. The combined sensation of her fingers inside you and her mouth on your clit drives you insane, pushing you closer to the edge. You can’t contain the loud moans that escape your lips, probably heard by her entire dorm floor. 

“Tashi, fuck! I’m so close.” you gasp out, gripping the blanket even harder, your knuckles turning white. You look down at her between your legs again, and just the sight of her is enough to send you over the edge. Your best friend has never looked more perfect to you than in this moment, with her face buried in your folds. You moan her name loudly as you reach your climax, your back arching again as you see stars. Tashi lifts her head and slips her fingers out of you and your back relaxes. You just lay there on her floor, trying to catch your breath, and Tashi moves up to lay down next to you. She places a hand on your cheek and turns your head to face her, placing another kiss on your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on her mouth. She rests her head on her arm, just looking at you.

“You’re so perfect.” you say softly, and she smiles at you. You just stare at her, admiring her, thinking you must be in a dream you’re going to wake up from at any moment. Your peace is interrupted by the sound of Tashi’s phone ringing. She sits up and picks it up off the floor next to her and you can see the caller ID on the tiny screen reads “Patrick Zweig”. She declines the call, silences her phone, and tosses it up onto her bed, before laying back down next to you. You look at her with a bit of confusion on your face, knowing he must be calling about the text you dared her to send earlier. 

“I’ll call him back later.” she says plainly, wrapping her arm around you and pulling you close. The thoughts of how wrong what the two of you just did was start flooding into your head, thinking about what Patrick would do if he found out what you just did with his girlfriend. These thoughts are immediately pushed away when Tashi kisses your cheek and pulls you even closer. As you lay there in your best friend's arms, the only thoughts that flood your brain now are how lucky you are to have her.

[irisintheafterglow]

(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)🌷✨🩷🍪 Greetings Author-nim

Can I please request (⁠^⁠_⁠^⁠メ⁠)

(OPLA Zoro x You) Where Reader is an Assassin or Ninja and is a Pirate hunter, When Zoro used to be one too, they would always compete who gets the target first. Sometimes Zoro wins, sometimes reader.

So, imagine Reader's reaction when they saw Zoro with the crew.

And also, Luffy, somehow by some miracle with his own style of talk-no-jutsu managed to convince reader to join them(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥. Hope u have a great day and it's okay if u don't want to do this. I'll understand.

baby, let the games begin

wc: 2k (surprise, shawty)

cw/tags: gn!reader, swearing, canon-typical violence, mentions of drinking and alcohol, pining pining pining pining PINING

note: hi love, thank you so much for your request!! i hope you like this because i certainly love writing for this stupid himbo man

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

Honor be damned, you really wanted to kill him. 

“Dirty play, demon,” you huff irritatedly, scowling at the asshole who skewered your target before you could. In a single clean slash, the head is relieved of its body and unceremoniously kicked into a bag. “We both know that one was mine.”

“Better luck next time.” Asshole. Stupid, selfish, infuriatingly attractive asshole. A million different ways you could end his life flashed through your mind and, with his back turned to you, became more of a possibility the longer you sat in your disappointment. The dock creaks beneath his receding footsteps and you spit a curse under your breath. The head now bouncing around in the pirate hunter’s hand would have had you living comfortably for months, not to mention buying some shelter for the stray dogs wandering your home island. Monsoon season was coming and you didn’t have nearly enough space to keep all of them dry. Finding food that wasn’t old bread and horse balls was hard in itself and shelter was just another task added to the to-do list. “You’re not gonna try and take it from me?” 

“Why would I? You killed him; you get the bounty,” you reply scornfully, praying that whoever came up with the idea of hunter’s honor is torn to shreds by an octopus. “Guess it is your turn,” you concede reluctantly and take note of the blood dripping from the dirty fabric sack as he reapproaches. You’d have to clean your shoes when you were done. “I did take that guy from you in Flamingo Village, last week.” 

“The one with the big, ugly hat,” he confirms and you don’t budge when he stands right in front of you. He had pretty eyes, you’d give him that. Too bad you wanted to slam your fist into his nose. “I was mad about that one.”

“Well, you got this one. Aren’t you gonna cash ‘em in?”

“I will. I’m just curious,” he says and his expression is unreadable. It bordered on amusement and suspicion with a little bit of awe. “You could have killed me a million times since I killed the target.” Already thought that, buddy. “Why didn’t you?”

“Like I said, hunter’s honor–”

“No,” he shakes his head decidedly and you narrow your eyes. “You’ve been following this guy for four days, watching other hunters fail to bring him in. My question is, why do you need this bounty so badly, and why aren’t you willing to kill me over it?”

“Technically, that’s two questions,” you deadpan and your heart does an unwanted little stutter when he scoffs, the tiniest smile pulling at his mouth. “If you really wanna know why I need it, it’s ‘cause I need to take care of some friends back home.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but you also didn’t need the most feared hunter in the seas knowing that you needed the money to buy squeaky toys and dog beds. 

“Those friends aren’t worth killing for?”

“It’s sounding like you want me to kill you,” you fire back incredulously. “Do I need to worry about you, Zoro?” 

“Look, all I’m saying is, all other hunters would be leaping at my throat as soon as I take their kill. I just don’t understand why you won’t, especially if it’s worth four days of stalking.” 

“Maybe I like playing this little game,” you admit. It’s no secret to you that your job becomes incredibly boring at times. All the other hunters you come across take their jobs too seriously and believe that they’re purging the seas of evil. You, however, knew that the real evil was pacing around ivory towers and putting up the wanted posters. When you first met Zoro, it seemed like he didn’t take his job seriously at all. He killed like it was breathing and remained unamused at the melodramatic theatrics of flashier hunters. You ran into each other often because, besides being the only ones who survive their hunts, you were the top-earning hunters of your generation and ended up following the same pace every time. “I take a bounty; you take a bounty. I try to beat the pirate hunter at his own game; he throws a fit when I’m faster than him.”

“But, today I was faster than you,” he corrects and you stick your tongue out at him in defiance. “Who’s throwing a fit now?”

“Get out of my sight, demon,” you frown but you can’t hold it for long. It becomes a tired, melancholy smile and you start to make your way back to the town to book passage home. “Hope you enjoy all that Berry.” 

“Let me buy you a drink with it before you go,” he calls after you and you freeze where you stand. “Consolation for kicking your ass this time around.” You shoot him a scathing look over your shoulder and take the bait. 

“I did all the dirty work for you, asshole, so it better be three drinks at the least.” He chuckles softly under his breath and you roll your eyes, letting him catch up to you before heading to the nearest bar together. “I hate you so much.” 

“No, you don’t.”

As time passed and you ran into him more during your hunts, that hatred turned into something different, an annoying feeling of excitement every time you heard a sword unsheathed or spotted someone with green hair. You found yourself checking your watch when you were ahead of him, counting down the hours until he caught up. You knew the sound of his footsteps and the rhythm of his breathing and memorized how the sun hit his eyes down to the iris. Sometimes, you’d work with him directly and split the bounty evenly once it was completed. During conversations to kill time, though he never admitted it, he liked being around you as often as he was. Eventually, you told him about your furry friends back on the island and started marking the places you’d been with a hasty drawing of a dog. It became part of your routine and the time that it took for him to catch up to you decreased exponentially as a result. You’re easier to follow, is what he said. On a particular mission where you were unusually behind, you were delighted to find his gross attempt at mimicking the mark scratched into the wooden bar counter. 

You lose touch with him after a year or so of working together and you don’t expect it to hurt as much as it did. Word floated around that he was captured by Marines and posted up in Shells Town, but the same mouths reported that he escaped with pirates the following day. None of it sounded like him and it reminded you that you really didn’t know him at all. Still, you marked that silly dog into every barstool and backdoor you came across as you fell back into the same boring routines. 

Taking a rest day at a floating restaurant called Baratie, you think you’ve found the perfect spot to scratch into the counter when you realize that someone has already done it for you. It was horrendous and nearly incomprehensible, but you choke back a sob when you run your thumb over the mangled wood. There was only one person who could have drawn the little dog so badly.

And it’s like your body senses him before your mind does. 

In an instant, you’re hyper fixated on the familiar rhythm of his boots and the soft noise as his swords clank together with every step. There are four others with him, but you know his approach like the back of your hand. A boy in a straw hat whom you recognize from wanted posters rushes the bar, loudly requesting a glass of milk for himself and the finest rum for his swordsman companion. When he slides into the seat next to you, you can barely look at him, rendered defenseless from the conflict of emotions stirring in your mind. Thousands of questions were screaming to be answered but you couldn’t even open your mouth. The alcohol in your half-finished glass is all you can see. 

“You found me,” he murmurs, flagging down the bartender and asking for a bottle of whatever you’re drinking.

“I wasn’t looking for you,” you reply just as quietly, watching his hand carefully replenish your glass before filling his own and downing it in a few swallows. You stop him from pouring another with a light hand on his shoulder and he wordlessly sets down the bottle, making you smile softly. “You still drink too much.”

“I don’t have you to slow me down,” he replies without hesitation, glancing at your fingertip as it traces the mark he made on the wood. “I’ve been putting those everywhere since I joined up with Luffy. Figured we’d run into each other at some point.” 

“Luffy,” you echo. “That’s your pirate captain?” The irony of your situation escapes neither of you. If you were smart, you’d have every single one of them dead and bouncing around a burlap sack, just like the pirate all those years ago. But, just the same as the first time, you were stopped by a profound desire to be closer to Zoro. 

“He’s not like other pirates. Not like the ones you and I know.” 

“I’ll let the Marines know next time I bring in a head, then,” you laugh humorlessly, feeling the rum burn down your throat when you take another sip. You feel his eyes watching you carefully but you don’t look back at him. “I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to hear that.”

“They don’t have to hear anything,” he says in a low tone, one that sends goosebumps up your spine and has your heart beating a little faster. “They don’t have to hear anything from you ever again.”

“You’re not saying…”

“That's exactly what I’m saying.” 

“You want me to just switch sides like it’s nothing?”

“This job has been nothing to you from the beginning, nothing but a way to feed strays that, thanks to you, have loving homes,” he reminds you and you exhale deeply. He was right, but part of you wanted vengeance for all the times you secretly wished he was still with you. “So, come with me.”

“Zoro, I–”

“You know, I’ve missed you so much I can’t sleep,” he shakes his head and sighs in defeat. “Every time we dock at a new city, I’m hoping you’re on a hunt because, as much as I care for them, they’ll never know me the way you do.” He looks back at his crew with something like sad fondness in his eyes. They wouldn’t ever know him the way you did, as a bounty hunter with no real place to call home and no real people to call friends. “It gets lonely when you’re not forced to be alone anymore.”

“And it’s lonely when you are forced to,” you add. “It’s lonely either way–”

“But I’d rather be that way with you,” he concludes. “It’s not bad when I’m with you.” You pause, collecting your thoughts and calculating how much money you’d have if you suddenly abandoned your current line of work. It was risky, sure, but something about risking it on Zoro made it feel a little less dangerous. “Your silence tells me I convinced you.”

“I’m not the one you need to convince; it’s your captain you should be talking to.”

“Trust me, he’s the least of our problems.” As if to drive home his point, a choir of cheers rises up from behind you as a loud belch sounds through the harbor. 

“‘Our’ as in the crew, or ‘our’ as in you and I?”

“It’s always been you and I, hasn’t it?”

“It always will be,” you promise, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. He’s warm and safe and everything you were needing. “But, I need to teach you how to draw a better dog.” He hums in agreement, downing another glass contentedly. 

“Yeah, you need to teach me how to draw a better dog.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[dejinerate]

[ Dinner Can Wait ]

a smutty little Hyunjin x reader drabble.

You're in the kitchen, cooking dinner. You and Hyunjin haven't seen each other much, due to work schedules. There hasn't exactly been time to have a proper homecooked meal together in awhile, and you've decided to make things a bit... spicy, tonight.

He just got home, and is making his way towards you in the kitchen as you've already started preparing the food. He leaves his work clothes on, as he knows you always go crazy over how he looks after he gets home from a shift. Pristine white work shirt unbuttoned at the top, his belt off, his tie loosened... absolute perfection. You decided to wear one of his favorite dresses of yours as a little home greeting to make the night special.

"Dinner looks amazing baby, I'm absolutely ravenous, it's been such a long day… you're wearing that dress, huh? Gorgeous. Come here, I haven't held you since this morning."

He comes behind you to hold your body, as you stir the food on the stove. He sighs in relief. His hands roam over your hips on top of your dress.. and he realizes..

Your panties are missing.

He smirks and picks up on your intentions immediately, and chuckles quietly to himself. He knows exactly what you want him to do.

"You're a needy little slut, aren't you baby? You must've missed me pretty badly. I love when you try to play coy when you so obviously crave me. My beautiful girl. I've missed you."

He gently grabs the front of your neck and chokes you from behind, and tilts your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. He's quick to latch his lips onto your sensitive skin, placing slow and torturous open mouthed kisses. You give him full access, and his mouth moves close to your ear. He licks and nibbles on your earlobe, sending goosebumps over your flesh.

He whispers into your ear. "You know exactly what you want from me... You want to be ruined, don't you? Can't even wait until dinner's over. Cock hungry little baby wants to be fucked. Where'd those panties go, hmm? Answer me."

You decide to be a brat and refuse to answer him, and he tightens his grip on your throat. You smirk to yourself, getting the exact response you wanted, and you start to close your eyes, enjoying the sensation of his lips on your neck and his hand on your throat… until he startles you with an unexpected spank on your ass with his unoccupied hand.

"You think you're so tough when you don't answer me, brat. But brats always get punished. Did I tell you that you could close your eyes? No. Face forward. Eyes open. Don't let our food burn. Keep stirring. Our dinner needs to be delicious, doesn't it? You need to pay attention, sweetheart. Wouldn't want our meal to go to waste. Are you gonna behave and do as I say? You want to be fucked, don't you? Good girls who get what they want have to listen."

You whine in protest, but begrudgingly nod at his demand, and he releases your throat. He unbuttons his pants and yanks them down, shoving his briefs simultaneously. His heavy, already hard and throbbing warm cock smacks against your ass as it springs free from its suffocating confinement. He flips the back of your dress up past your hips, grabs your thighs, and forces your legs to spread slightly apart for him. He impatiently aligns himself with your entrance, your pussy aching and drenched with arousal. You arch your ass back on him, your face and eyes held forward, attempting to concentrate on the food to make sure you do as he says and play along with his little power trip game.

You do want to be fucked, after all. That was the whole point of wearing no panties. He outwitted you, though. You have to play along with his impossible rules of focusing on the cooking. You just wanted to be fucked dumb as soon as he got home, but of course, he has to challenge you.

Hyunjin is usually a man of foreplay and teasing, as his favorite hobby is making you writhe and beg for what you want in your frequent love making. His dirty talk is unmatched. He loves dominating you and forcing your bratty ass to be compliant. He loves the challenge of taming you. You love watching him get riled up when you mouth off to him. He loves torturing you with his touch, his prowess of your body and your pleasure making you succumb to him far more quickly than you'd like. You always try to hold out, to resist his ministrations as long as possible, but all efforts are proven futile against this sex demi-god of a man. He loves when you finally give in to him. His lips are the most luscious when they're moving against your own. His tongue is pure sin between your legs. His beautifully long, elegant fingers a thing of incoherent ecstacy when they're inside of you. Making you cum over and over. He sadistically loves to draw out your need to be filled with him as long as possible, watching tears of desperation pool in your eyes from how mad he drives you... until he finally caves in to his own desires, and fucks you dumb and dizzy on his cock.

No unbearable build up tonight, though. He's wired. It seems as though your overt "forgotten panties" trick drove him to primal desires, no longer caring about foreplay. The idea of implied free use of your pussy driving him completely mad.

"You're doing so good for me, obeying me just like I wanted. You must be desperate for me to fill you up, brat. You're never usually this compliant. I'm a man of my word. Hold on to the counter, pretty baby."

You barely have a chance to grab the lip of the countertop. A strangled gasp escapes you as you feel him swiftly enter you, stretching you and filling you completely without any warning. He bottoms out quickly inside of you, a throaty, sinful moan escaping his lips as he begins to set a quickened pace of shallow thrusts. He's hitting that deep spot he knows you both go crazy for.

"Fuck baby." He hisses under his breath, his voice full of desire. "You've been ready for me for awhile, huh? I can tell, you're so warm and wet for me. That's my good girl. Always so ready for me. You feel so fucking good… Bend over all the way."

He's pushing your head down, a fist full of your hair gently held in his grip. You do as he says, and you lower your body more to angle yourself better for him to take you against the counter. 

 "That's it, my little cock whore, fuck. Tell me who you belong to, babygirl."

You whimper that you belong to him, and he chuckles darkly. His thrusts increase in speed, and you try your best to grip the countertop for support. Moans and whines are spilling out of you as he's relentlessly pounding your walls. Your eyes flutter closed and your head starts to lean back to give into the pleasure. He immediately notices and yanks your hair in his fist, and his other hand spanks you as a warning.

"What did I tell you, beautiful? You can't be fucked out this early, princess. I'm nowhere near done with you. Keep focused on making our delicious meal. Eyes forward. Concentrate. If you stop, I stop. I can do this for as looooong as I want. Your body is all fucking mine. You just have to play by the rules. You're mine to completely devour tonight. This pussy belongs to me. And daddy is starving."

[rosedom]

I can't go off-anon because,,, sideblog ;^; but its aureramphibian hi hello non-anonymous because I'm YOUR problem now. Suffer :)

My brain is about 90% thoughts of Pretty Fictional Men and about 50% of the time, it's specifically either Tighnari, Cyno, Kaveh, or Gaming and I feel like you would appreciate this Gaming thought, so,, here! Have! :D

im a huge sucker for secret relationships idk why but having a secret relationship with Gaming, not because either of you are embarrassed but like- it's still new, and he does NOT want to have to introduce you to his whole extended family because if one of his aunties saw y'all together and couldn't keep quiet about it- oof. He's already having nightmares about the amount of calls he'd get from relatives begging him to meet you if that were to happen. So to avoid that, he suggests you keep it secret for privacy :D And it works! But also sucks because he's so busy and his family likes to do the whole... surprise drop-in thing. So to avoid any Awkward Circumstances y'all are essentially restricted to your place. And this was literally all just background lead-up that doesn't really matter but ANYWAYS

Can you imagine him being so pent up, not because he hasn't seen you but because he HAS, he's seen you practically every day and it's killing him because it's always in public and you're both trying to be careful? He hasn't touched you in ages, he hasn't had you touch him in ages and it wears on him so much he actually turns down an extra job (something he NEVER does) to make sure he has time to go see you ;-; Sweet little lion ;-; (absolutely stealing that nickname for him from you unashamedly. you were right about it. If it ain't broke, don't fix it)

But god, he'd be accidentally teasing himself too!! Not even doing anything, just that it's been so long since he's seen you and he's So Goddamn Pent Up that he keeps thinking about you,,, your hands,,,,,, your body,,,,,,, how well you kiss him, touch him, fuck him,,,,,,,,, and he realizes he's not only almost to your house, but he's hard and achy, AND he's soaked through his boxers :( poor baby :(

When he finally makes it to your house you bet your sweet ass he's immediately kissing you, grabbing you, so much more uncoordinated than how he usually is that even without how he's literally whining into the kiss, you'd be able to tell he's needy. He just wants you so badly :(((( Wouldn't even care how, just needs you Right Fucking Now and however you want that to be he's already pliant and willing under your hands, slowly blinking at you with those beautiful eyes of his already hazy- Hell, he'd be happy if you shove your hand down his pants right here against the wall, fill him with your fingers and play with his cock, already sticky from having to walk all the way here in soaked boxers. Make sure you kiss him while you do, though, he'd be a little loud :( He really can't help it though! Poor baby's just missed you so much, finally having you all over him like this is turning his brain to mush :(

Anyways hope you enjoy >:] love u Rosey, mwah

I ENJOYED THIS SO MUCH !! i am so sorry for such a late reply omg ,,, i had been thinking about this so so much but never got down to actually thinking up a post LOL

literally anything tighnari cyno kaveh ga-ming i will readily eat up (and eat you out for) . . . pls spam me. i think this is one of if not the hottest imagine i have ever received.

so SEE, NORMALLY, secret relationships aren't my thing ,, but oh my fcking god, ur idea? i love u. i love u so much. "it doesn't really matter," u say, then drop the absolute best lore ever. kiss me.

THE TENSIONNNNN mmmm he's already so needy, even when it's not a secret dating scenario, so to be restricted like this . . . thank god his t-dick can't cause a noticeable boner through his already thick and draping pants, 'cos if so, he'd be absolutely fucked (wishing he got fucked fr) (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

the side glances in public, the sweet smiles you give each other in those short seconds where nobody is looking . . . it gives him butterflies, makes his skin burn where your hand will brush his in passing, but it's also not enough—not nearly enough !! poor baby, havin' to touch himself to the thought of you when you're right there. it's different like this than before you two dated 'cos then he didn't know he could have you; but like this, when you've already loved him, fucked him, claimed him, how is he supposed to live without it? and his own hand—clumsy, never as good as your own fingers or, god, your cock—can only go so far.

sweet baby, sweet little lion, all hard n' wet because of you . . . pls steal the nickname idec i love pet names !!!

he'd turn down the new mission, the possibility of that extra mora, saying to himself he just wants to spend time with you—not anything else, nothing indecent, nothing of the sort !—except he's halfway to your house, and here he is, achy between his thighs and halfway in a trance because thinking about you has him thinking about your body, has him thinking about your hands, your hands on him, in him, and his cunt is just so empty, now, weakly clenching around nothing as he's lost in a daydream about you.

the idea of ga-ming bumbling through liyue all quiet, all serious looking, when he's normally so bubbly, loud—i want to have the mind to wonder what the folks on the street would say, but i also just. don't care. this is about ga-ming ! not them !!

and then he's at your door, barely giving you the chance to welcome him in and greet him before he's on you, clutching desperately at any part of you that he can reach and kissing you all sloppy. he's so so needy, and so so wet, and he's parting from your lips to look up at you so docile yet so fucking aroused, eyes blown wide and hazy . . . :( he deserves your touch after so long starved of it.

he'd keep going in for kiss after kiss, and he'd be whining so prettily, soft and breathy and high in his throat. i love him so much. pls ,, all of this happening not even two steps from the door . . . he just needs you so bad !!

slipping your hand down his pants between kisses, during kisses, hearing his moans tumble out of him only to be swallowed up by you immediately . . . just the thought of how fucking soaked ga-ming would be is so mmmmm; your fingers would slip inside oh-so easily, his cunt fluttering and welcoming one, two, three fingers in as your palm is left to grind against his cock rjjfhfkr

and you're kissing him as you do it all, keeping him quiet and pinned tight between you and the wall. 'cos he'd be so desperate for you, but you're just as desperate for him <333

be my problem. please. pls. i love you. i love this. this was so (⁠♡⁠ω⁠♡⁠ ⁠)⁠ ⁠~⁠♪ !!!!!

[sgt-seabass]

Joining in on the clockwork fan train, I have a Drabble prompt if you are interested. Nick often plays fast and loose with reader’s safety, and although he’s a control freak so he thinks of everything to prevent her getting harmed (like using air rifle etc) I wonder how he might react if he goes too far/something goes wrong and she does actually get badly hurt from one of his games. Maybe playtime gone wrong or he misjudged his strength. Would he feel guilt, or shrug it off?

𝒔𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒚

pairing — mob boss!prime alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader w/c — 1.9k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. part of the Clockwork AU. listening to — ♫ sip u slowly warnings — general dark elements, smut (dubcon due to stokholm, p in v, cunnilingus), choking to the point of passing out and bruising, possessiveness, pet names (pup, puppy, omega), a/b/o dynamics, very light medical elements, reference to past minor character death a/n — i hope you like it! thank you so much for the support and interest in the Clockwork AU! written on my phone. thank you so much to @rookthorne for helping with beta and suggestions 🥺🥺💙 this was meant to be short whoops.

Nick had been insatiable, fucking you for hours and eating you out each time in-between sessions.

After a work deal had gone awry and lives had been lost, he wanted nothing more than to bury his problems in your tight heat. With your essence on his tongue, he could be absolved of his irreverence.

Nick was angry. He didn’t take to fuck ups well.

When he’d heard about an omega retrieval gone wrong that ended with the death of a few targeted girls, he was irate.

Nick had to murder his men for their actions. They were there to capture them, not kill them - professionalism was expected, mandated, in his organisation. Nick didn’t need more red in his ledger, yet it seemed to have a way of seeping in, tainting the pages and bleeding everywhere.

His temper was no more than his inner child locked in an endless cycle of self-flagellation, so he fixated on you to distract himself. He’d created you and turned you into the omega he wanted. However, the problem with manipulating is that you deny yourself the love and support that partnership provides. Nick knew he was fooling himself by thinking you were unequivocally his, so he wanted to show you how good he could make you feel.

The urge boiled beneath his skin, an unbridled need to claim you; to fuck you into oblivion.

Barely keeping himself restrained, he’d carried you to the bedroom just after dinner, and the sun had long set. His need for you continued into the early morning.

By the time the clock hit three am, you were exhausted. That much was evident by the way your eyes struggled to stay open even as you orgasmed. The little sounds Nick pulled from you got whinier and more strained the more your body tried to get its rest.

But there was no rest for the wicked, and Nick was certainly feeling sinful.

“Give me another, puppy,” Nick growled to you, face between your legs before moaning at the taste of his seed and your wet mixing.

“I’m tired, alpha. I can’t.” You whimpered, sweat dotting your brow while your back arched against the silk bedsheets. “S’too much.”

“Uh-uh. You don’t get to decide that. I’ll tell you when it’s enough, omega.” Nick’s voice reverberated against your clit before he gently sucked it, causing your fingers to fist into the sheets from the unrelenting pleasure.

This was Nick’s favourite way to have you. Crumpled from the euphoria he caused you. You’d fought so hard against him, but at the end of the day, you ended up right where you belonged.

In his bed.

Nick started slow, drawing circles around your clit before replacing his tongue with his fingers. He flicked his finger while his mouth pressed kisses along your hip and down your thigh. Nick couldn’t help himself when it came to tasting all of you, so he bit into the supple flesh of your thigh as he kept working your sensitive clit.

Your wail only served to make Nick bite again, closer to your cunt this time. Fuck, your tears were gorgeous. “Does it hurt, omega?” When you nodded in response, Nick slapped your thigh. “Use your words.”

“Ye— Yes. Hurts, alpha.”

“Mm, but you look so beautiful with my marks.” Nick looked at the teeth marks adorning your skin, smirking to himself before turning his attention back to your clit. “Tell me what you want, puppy. Tell me what you need.”

Your thighs clenched, and Nick chuckled dryly as he ground himself against the bed, his erection painfully hard. He wanted to do nothing more than fuck you senseless, but it was worth waiting if it meant he got to see you shatter.

“I need…” You stopped yourself, and Nick could see the embarrassment in your expression. It was beautiful. “I need your mouth, please, alpha.”

“Such nice manners,” Nick praised before giving you exactly what you wanted.

He drank you in slowly, running his tongue over your folds and watching how you responded. You were so tense. As if each muscle was waiting for the anticipated precipice. And Nick would give it to you, but he wanted his fun first.

Deft fingers pulled your folds apart, and Nick groaned at the sight of you. Glistening and inviting. “Such a pretty pussy, pup. Prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen.”

Nick ran his flat tongue up your cunt, starting with long, languid licks that began to gradually get faster. Nick placed a hand on your stomach to stablise you as his broad strokes got shorter, turning into quick flicks across your clit.

He didn’t stop, not tiring even as the clock ticked away on the bedside table.

The tell-tale signs of your impending orgasm started to show as Nick alternated between licking and sucking, his hand running up and down your thigh as the other held you down. Your body tensed, and it goaded Nick to go faster, gripping your flesh tightly.

Nick hummed against your clit, and the dams burst. Like music to his ears, your mewls turned high-pitched as you came, your juices gushing down his chin. Nick had lost count of how many orgasms you’d had tonight, but each one was better than the last. He’d never get sick of this.

“My puppy does love playtime, don’t you, baby?” Nick watched as your glazed eyes looked at him, surprised at the new pet name. Baby. It’s endearing. Intimate. “You’re going to sit back and let your alpha do all the work now, right? Puppies are just too silly to do anything but lay down and get fucked.”

Seeing you so raw, so vulnerable, was bringing out the beast in Nick. The further down this rabbit hole he fell, the harder it was to keep his semblance of control. If you tried to make a run for it right now, he might actually kill you, too lost in the chase of his prey to realise what was happening. But you don’t run. Instead, you shuffled a little up the sheets, so your head rested on one of the satin pillows.

You knew you couldn’t escape, so you prepared yourself to be comfortable. Nick crawled up the bed, cock standing proud between his parted thighs, and he loomed over you. “Are you scared, puppy?”

Nick smiled when you gave him an odd look like you weren’t sure what response he wanted. “You should be.”

His words were the only warning you got before he mounted you, sheathing his dick in your dripping cunt with one swift motion of his hips. Nick let out a growl, pulling out the pillow from under you so he could grip the back of your neck. “Fuck. Fuck. You feel like fucking velvet, omega.”

The teasing nature Nick had earlier was long gone, replaced with a feral alpha desperate to breed. His thrusts were deep, rutting against your hips as his heavy breaths filled the room, mixed with your moans. It was a fucking symphony.

“This little cunt is mine, isn’t it? Tell me,” Nick snarled, pounding into your sore, used pussy without resolve.

“S’yours. All yours,” you sobbed into the cool air, tears streaking down your cheeks.

“That’s right. You’re fucking mine.” Nick moved his hand to rest on the front of your neck. He tiled his head back while his eyes fluttered closed.

It was a complete state of bliss. Nick didn’t look down as he let himself be free. No control, no thoughts. Just alpha.

You moaned with each plunge of his cock, but Nick didn’t notice the way your moans were weakening under the sound of smacking flesh.

Your hands clawed at Nick’s arm, but he didn’t even register it.

It wasn’t until you went quiet altogether that Nick opened his eyes.

Suddenly, cold washed over Nick when he looked down, his hand tight around your neck and your eyes closed. Not even a squeak came from your parted lips.

“Omega? Shit. Omega, open your eyes.” Nick tapped your cheek, but you were completely unconscious. “Puppy, wake up.”

He shook your shoulders, pulling his now soft cock out of you before he placed his finger under your nose. A sigh of relief left Nick when he felt the soft blow of your breath against his skin.

Nick’s jaw clenched, guilt awash over him. He was so lost in the moment he didn’t realise he’d begun squeezing, and he’d choked you out.

Your lack of response concerned Nick, so he sat on the bed, pulling you to his chest. He cradled you, and suddenly he was like his ten-year-old self again, holding the body of his dead sister on the living room floor. “Wake up. Please. I’ll… I’ll get you even more strawberries. You love them, right?”

You didn’t wake. Still soundly asleep and unaware of your distressed alpha.

In making you vulnerable, Nick had actually exposed himself. Desperate and alone, he was nothing without something of his own. Without you.

“Beck! Bring your med kit!” Nick’s voice boomed through the mansion, a prime alpha call.

Only moments later, Beck came barrelling through the door with his doctor’s bag. His eyes widened at the sight of you in Nick’s lap, mottled bruises already beginning to spread over your neck. “What happened?”

“I didn’t realise I was squeezing,” Nick’s voice came out monotone, devoid of emotion. His heart had begun to lock down. He wasn’t ready to lose anyone else.

Beck rushed over, gently taking you from Nick and resting you back against the bed. Your alpha moved away from the bed, arms crossed and expression cold as he watched.

“She’s alive,” Beck commented. You were obviously alive, but hearing Beck’s assurance eased Nick a little. The alpha always managed to calm him down.

There was a flurry of movement as Beck checked you over, Nick watching closely, not moving from his spot. As if he were a statue, frozen by pain.

“She’s going to be fine. I think she could use an IV with some fluids, and I can do a scan of her neck if you’re really worried,” Beck sighed, standing up. “But she’s okay. We could put her in the medical bay?”

“No. She stays here,” Nick snapped back quickly. Beck didn’t flinch, not phased by the icy mood of his boss. “Do the IV here.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go get the stuff from downstairs if you want to get her into bed for me. Her body is pretty run down, so I imagine she’ll wake up when she’s got some energy back.” Not waiting for a response, Beck packed his things. On the way out, he passed Nick, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Accidents happen. It’s okay.”

Without further comment, Beck left, leaving Nick staring at you. He could have snapped your neck and not even realised.

Nick ran a hand over his face, the memories of his sister still fresh in his mind; he couldn’t protect her or his mother, but he could keep you safe. You were the only thing that had ever made him feel human.

After the loss of his family, he’d turned into a hardened shell. But something about you and your homely scent cracked his defences. Around you, his heart was exposed. It meant he could love with a burning intensity, but also hurt just as much.

Body tensed, Nick maneuvered you carefully so the sheet and duvet shielded you from the cool night air. You were covered in your slick and Nick’s cum, but washing you was an issue he’d resolve after you’d rested.

Waiting for Beck to return, Nick pulled up an armchair to sit beside you. He’d never let you see this side of him, not for now anyway. He wasn’t ready. But with you unaware, Nick leant forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry, omega.”

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

[gofancyninjaworld]

The OPM Manga in 2023

By the numbers:

23 updates (most 14 days apart, shortest interval: 9 days, longest: 33 days).

662 pages (range 12 - 41 pages, mean page count: 29 pages).

Volumes published: 2 (Volumes 28 and 29). 1 bonus chapter included in Volume 28 -- Olfaction.

By the story:

Psychics and Temper Tantrums (chapters 176 - 184)

Well, the Monster Association is behind us but the fallout from it is slowly beginning to settle. Most of the heroes are now back at work and some of the consequences of a world that's increasingly scared of monster attacks are beginning to show up. The first quarter of the year was taken up with Tatsumaki's temper tantrum -- and Saitama once again daring a strong person to do their worst -- it's like he didn't learn his lesson with Garou, which disappoints me. [I love Saitama, but when brains were being handed out, he was not at the front of the queue.]

That said, even though I did not care one whit for Tatsumaki throwing Saitama around (it wasn't terrible, but really it could have been condensed into 1-2 chapters), the start of the Psychic Sisters arc was fantastic, and its ending was very interesting. I made a nuisance of myself at the start of it, pestering everyone in earshot with my excitement that Tatsumaki was taking Fubuki into her confidence to try getting Psykos out rather than trying to do everything herself.

Her complex feelings of disappointment, betrayal, and the sense that she'd made a mistake were some of the most complex and nuanced we'd seen in the story. She may be paranoid and misanthropic, but she's not crazy: there's a basis for her actions, and being knocked back just when she'd taken the risk of opening up was harsh. Unfortunately, Tatsumaki's default response is rage.. and I'm not going to waste time on recounting what happened then.

I felt pain for her here.

The end as well, expanding as it did on Tatsumaki's thoughts about how she'd accidentally woken Fubuki's psychic powers by scaring her so badly and the guilt she felt at having made her sister a target, was great. Her feelings about Blast are great, as this is the first time we get what she actually thinks of him. I still want her to learn that Blast doesn't work alone -- it'll blow her mind. The session ending with her giving the Fubuki group a chance to grow stronger and prove themselves is a fantastic development.

Even when she's giving someone a chance she still has to be scary.

Schemes (chapters 184, 187 - 191)

I really love how seamlessly the Psychic Sister arc flows into the next big theme: that of schemes and threats to the Hero Association's future. ONE has done a lot of work reworking the webcomic story so that the storyline is a coherent whole rather than two-three apparently unrelated storylines. Fubuki taking advantage of the chaotic aftermath to extract Psykos while securing immunity for her sister, and Tatsumaki brazenly using the HA's need to keep the rich clients sweet to scupper an investigation into Psykos's whereabouts was all clever. However, they're just amateurs and their antics played beautifully into McCoy's hands, who leveraged the crisis to make himself appear indispensible to the HA, thus making it very hard for him to be removed, even as he works to implicate the Hero Association in scandals (many of which he's running).

You can't call McCoy hasty: this guy has played a good long game.

The Hero Association is already having issues recruiting new heroes as they're going to Neo Heroes, which is also pinching existing heroes. However, it's not 100% going McCoy's way. Something I started praising in my review of chapter 173 is the greater self-efficacy of the characters in the manga. Sekingar and Sicchi haven't just been sitting on their hands watching McCoy sell the HA down the river. They've teamed up with Child Emperor to find out what he's really up to.

I think that this is the best cover of 2023: a collection of individuals who embody heroism, whether or not they're recognised as such or work in 'regular' ways. Well, there's one impostor…

Critically, they're not assuming that the Neo Heroes are necessarily evil: they want to understand what this outfit is actually doing. After all, heroism is heroism, no matter what guise it takes. To see that Sekingar has so earned Metal Bat's respect that the latter follows him into the heart of danger did my heart good [1].

Please, my poor heart, it'll burst if things get much more awesome.

Ninjas, Ninnies, Nintendos (193 - 199, ongoing)

That Blast has some connection to the ninjas from Sonic's Ninja Village has been clear for a long time in the webcomic. [2] However, it is only here in the manga that we're getting a full explanation of what that connection is.

Yes, yes, my partner may be a monster but he's a useful monster.

The intertwined story of Blast and his attempts to reach his former partner, Empty Void, who was also running a horrifying 'school' for grooming boys into assassins, and that of Flashy Flash and Speed o' Sound Sonic isn't done yet, but it looks to be reaching at least one turning point. It's a pity that the fan translators stopped translating the cover text because that for chapter 199 was incredibly pertinent: 'Staring at the back of a friend you used to stand shoulder to shoulder with.' Sonic has so much to process.

And like that, Sonic's world has been turned upside down.

Since Blast has an ongoing relationship with Empty Void, we get troubling questions as to how long Blast had known about the Village and whether he disapproved, or had been content to ignore it as long as he had his partner by his side and found his talents indispensible. It's going to be interesting when those two meet! Also, if Blast is hoping to reverse Empty Void's monsterization, he'd better hope that the guy isn't like most people who became monsters. Most ex-human monsters *want* to be that way and there doesn't seem to be a good way to undo it. Well, maybe if you chop them up, have Phoenixman (oops, he seems to have lost his powers) resurrect them, then shock them incredibly hard, that might work. It's unlikely that anyone present can deduce what happened to Gale Wind and Hellfire Flame, much less put all the working parts of that together.

Still, they're going to try. This *is* going to be interesting. Also, potentially heartbreaking.

Reappearances

Genos: the disciple returns to his duty

Unlike the webcomic, Genos has not been completely absent. He's been quite busy: helping Saitama recover their apartment, meeting the Hero Association to discuss important matters, and also, hanging out with Saitama as a friend rather than as a disciple. It's been fun to see that he's finally ditched his flip phone for a smart one, heheh.

Nevertheless, it's not until Dr Kuseno finishes his new upgrade that Genos sets foot in Saitama's house, formally reporting for duty, so to speak. I praise Saitama's self-discipline and good sense in not breaking eye contact and in politely ignoring his disciple's new-found exhibitionism until he had the sense to put a shirt on [3].

Less positive, it's been painful to see that Genos is frustrated at how he doesn't seem to have grasped the kind of growth he's looking for and is unsure whether Saitama truly sees him. It's not been helped by Saitama trying to reassure him, pulling his best 'Reigen' face and instead made everything worse. There are two interesting shames, which will surely be built on at some point. 1: We see Saitama seeing Genos's strength but he doesn't say anything. 2: Genos is right that the strength that comes from within is different from that granted to one by upgrades. We see in another chapter from Nichirin, that having artificial parts is no hindrance to pulling out that great inner strength. The funny thing is that Genos has shown that kind of strength before, when he was fighting Elder Centipede, but he doesn't know it.

Ah, despite everything, those fools are no better at speaking to each other than they were before! It'd be hilarious if it weren't so tragic.

Rarely have the words 'open your mouth and solve your problems' been more apposite. Sadly, that's exactly what they don't do.

Garou: the other disciple tries to learn duty

Now this really threw a lot of fans for a loop -- ONE making clear that he's aware of how young Garou actually is. It was very easy to read Garou as a guy in his early twenties, but strip away the pretensions and he's really young. His over-simple understanding of what was wrong with the world and his over-large sense of responsibility to fix it are thoughts of a teen. It's just a good thing that teenagers don't have world-shattering power, and so can be extreme and wrong without hurting anyone. But it has really jarred with a lot of fans.

I may be giving Bang the side eye as he implements his idea of reformation (apparently, it involves hitting Garou over the head often), but the sense of lightness Garou feels at having a reliable mentor, the relief he undoubtedly feels at having a way to work his crimes off -- being a social outcast may seem cool in a 'reject-the-corrupt-world' way but it gets old fast -- and being able to contribute meaningfully to the dojo's re-establishment is palpable.

His life is sure to start sucking again soon, but for now, it's a joy to see him.

Let him gambol for now. Go Garou!

King: ugh

Sorry, King just irritates me some days and this was one of them. Not because he was running around trying to find someone who could help him: that was fine. But because, unlike the webcomic, once Saitama told him to work out, he's continuing to stick around and play videogames. In a world where everyone is trying their best to make sense of their world and help themselves in some way, however imperfect, the sight of this poster child for mediocre white men overpromoted for looking the part continuing to laze about just pisses me off.

Let him start helping himself and I will praise him.

He's been told what to do but he's not doing it.

GAY!

This year, ONE said: here, my children, I have brought you a pint of homo milk. Drink. What else are we to make of Fubuki triumphantly cradling Psykos as she makes a clean getaway?

This has to be the smuggest 'got the girl' face I've ever seen.

Or Blast continuing to call Empty Void his partner, despite everything that the guy has done, including turning into a monster? He wants him back so badly, and though he says it's strictly professional interest, we think the man doth protest too much.

And then whatever's going on with these two:

Flashy Flash, you ain't got no business calling Blast soft when you're handing Sonic tissues and smiling at him.

Fandom Follies

Do we need to do this? Yup! This year, we discovered that a lot of dudebros who have been against the idea of romance in OPM have just been shippers afraid to come out and own it. The sheer number of Saitama x Tatsumaki fans has been incredible. Nothing wrong with SaiTatsu but the obnoxiousness of fans new to shipping has been hard to tolerate. Learn some manners, folks!

Asides

[1] I think this is great foreshadowing of something Forte says later in the webcomic to paraphrase, risking your life for another hero is something you do as a favour for a friend, not because someone's declared themselves the boss of you and ordered it. It's nice to see Sekingar embodying that ideal.

[2] It's hard to believe it, but to this day (chapter 149), Blast is not yet seen in the webcomic. At this rate, he'll show up at the very end to get jobbed by God (no ID), but not before giving an over-long exposition about what he's been up to. That is, if he's not already dead, only nobody knows yet.

[3] I can see SaiGenos shippers worried that my saying that it's good that Saitama isn't taking Genos up on his obvious attraction means that I might be disapproving of the ship. That is not the case. I'm going to assume that most of us here are old enough to vote, enter into contracts, and pay taxes and so can think of things with nuance and context. A fandom that needs the reassurance of canon to decide what's permissible is a weak, timid, and pallid imitation of one, and one I want no part of. For certain, we're here to discuss the story as it exists, but please, we're also here to consider and explore scenarios and make works that cannot and often should not exist in the canon because they are FUN. Even more pertinent, ONE is on record as LOVING that fans spend their time and creativity doing things with his stories. So please, don't allow any in-universe discussions on what is helpful or unhelpful in the story affect what you draw and write! PLEASE SHIP! Gimme!

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

You've Got Another Thing Coming

Pairing: ModernDayRockstarEddieMunsonxReader

Request: This is for one of my very favorite people and a supporter of mine from damn near day one when I first posted a book on Wattpad @mmunson86 I hope I did your request justice BB! I had a lot of fun with this one.

Alright not me jumping into this right away with a request buut whenever you can can you do a one shot of Eddie Munson x reader but modern day?

Eddie is a rockstar & reader is his wife/the bands personal hair stylist

Okay soooo here we go he is in a meeting for an upcoming tour, and she is back in the hotel lounging around , he has not seen her most of the day so he starts to text sexting her , sooo she takes it a step further and sends him a very suggestive picture, when i tell you this man is ready to bolt out the door!🤣

He tells her that he is going to destroy her & she keeps testing him till he gets back to their hotel room and does exactly that this man destroys her shoot even calls her names is rough ( obvi its consensual & that's what she wanted from him) after they are done maybe some fluff🥹🤍

18+ ONLY

Eddie rolled his neck, drumming his fingers on the top of the long table, trying not to tune out as everyone around him talked lighting, stage set-up, whether there should be a fog machine or not. They were starting a new tour in four months and he’d been told he had to attend this meeting but he never understood what he was here for. He played music. He didn’t care if the lights were LEDs or if they tried some new spotlight during his guitar solo. 

Slyly, he pulled his phone from his pocket. He hadn’t seen you all day and he could just picture you in his mind right now, spread out in that King sized hotel bed in those tiny shorts and that soft cami that concealed nothing, perfect little nipples pressing against the silky material as you relaxed, probably watching some serial killer documentary that you found. Damn, he’d be much more useful in that bed with you than sitting in this conference room. 

Getting an idea, he opened the text thread with you, tongue darting along the side of his mouth as he typed.

Hey princess, relaxing and enjoying the quiet?

No. I’m reading and I want you in this bed next to me.

Oh yeah? Reading some of your smutty shit again? 

Yeah, and now I’m all turned on and there’s no one here to take care of it but me.

Eddie grinned, nibbling his bottom lip. Fuck, how long was this meeting going to take? He raised his head every now and again, nodding and smiling, trying to appear like he was invested in whatever the hell they were talking about now but he was far more invested in this text conversation. 

Aww, sweetheart. You need me to make you feel good? You want my fingers deep inside that pretty little pussy? 

Yeah. I need you, baby. My fingers just aren’t the same, Eddie. I try closing my eyes and imagining it’s you but it’s not enough. 

Eddie’s head jerked back as a photo came through. He growled low, deep in his throat. You were on your back on the bed, hair fanned around you on the pillow, those little shorts gone, your own fingers buried within you. He could see those perfect nipples through the silk of the tank but your eyes…Jesus Christ, you were giving him your best fuck me eyes and he was instantly hard as granite, shifting slightly in his chair, trying to allieve the pressure. His eyes darted to the door. Would anyone really care if he just left? They couldn’t stop him if he just ran. What the hell was he even here for?

Fuck princess, I am going to destroy that pussy when I get back.

Promise?

Another picture came through. Eddie’s lips pressed together, suppressing the groan that so badly wanted to come out of him. You were on all fours, your legs spread apart just enough to give him the perfect view of your pink pussy all ready for him. You looked over your shoulder at the camera, eyes inviting him. 

Are you sure you want to keep playing this game, sweetheart? This meeting is going to end sometime.

I’m dripping wet, baby. I need to come. If you don’t get here soon, I might have to finish without you.

In the third picture, you were on your back again, spread open, but with your vibrator in your hand, an amused smile on your lips.

Don’t you fucking dare. You put that away and lie there like a good girl until I get there and then I am going to make you come so hard, you’ll still be feeling the aftershocks for days.

Promises…promises…I just don’t know if I can wait…

“Alright, so I think we have this all settled. It all sounds great guys,” Eddie said, jumping up from his chair. “Really good meeting. Tour is going to be awesome. Thanks everyone.”

He practically sprinted from the conference room, through the lobby, and to the elevator. His cock was throbbing, eager to get up to the room so he could follow through. Eddie knew what you wanted when you got all bratty like this and he was more than happy to give it to you. The elevator took forever but finally the doors opened and he ran down the hallway. 

Using his keycard, he slammed the door open, hearing the buzz of your little toy. He walked around the corner to find you with that subpar mechanical replacement for him pressed against your clit. You moaned, eyes closed, and he stood watching, running his finger over his lower lip. The door closed audibly and your eyes popped open, catching sight of him. 

“I thought I told you to put that sorry excuse for pleasure away,” he said warningly. 

“You were taking too long,” you replied, spreading your legs further, giving him more of a show. “And I was so horny, baby.”

“That’s because you’re a needy little slut.” Eddie grabbed the vibrator, throwing it across the room. He grabbed her jaw tightly, tilting her head back. “I told you, I’m the only one who makes you come. Say it.”

“Not when you’re not here,” you said, testing him, challenging him, wanting to push him as far as you could. 

Eddie’s free hand cupped your pussy and you released a long, low moan, hips rolling toward him as your body tried to get what it really craved. A slap sounded as he smacked your pussy roughly, his other hand keeping it’s tight grip on your jaw.

“You want me to take care of you?” You nodded, your head barely moving in the grip he had on it. “Then be a good girl and say it,” he hissed, lips right next to your ear.

“You’re the only one who makes me come,” you whimpered.

“That’s what I thought,” Eddie stated, keeping your pussy cupped in his hand but applying no pressure anywhere you needed it. “I was in a very important meeting and you sent me those dirty photos? Those perfect little nipples all hard, pointing at me, just begging for my teeth.”

His hands came to the straps of your cami, appearing to pull them gently down your arms, but then he gave a forceful tug, ripping the entire top in half and the fabric fell away. His thumbs came to each achingly hard bud, running gently over them back and forth before pinching them both harshly and twisting until you squeaked. 

“That’s right. Naughty little whores have to take their punishment before they get what they want. Now, you’ve left me with a painfully hard cock, princess. You’re going to need to fix that.”

You moved to sit up but he shook his head. Eddie made quick work of his belt, pants, and shirt before moving to the bed. He spun his finger and pointed and you knew what he wanted. Maneuvering yourself, you laid across the bed, your head hanging off the edge. His throbbing length hung over your face, wet with pre-cum that you could see gathered along the slit. Your head bobbed up, gathering the sticky substance on your tongue and he hissed in appreciation before roughly grabbing your jaw again. 

“That’s a start. Now, open that pretty mouth for me so I can give it a proper fucking.”

You obeyed, opening your mouth and he thrust, sending his cock straight to the back of your throat, gagging you. But this wasn’t gentle Eddie, the boyfriend who was concerned, the one who would ask sweetly if you were okay. This was feral Eddie, the Eddie who took what he wanted from you and your center was aching for all that was to come because this had been your intention from the moment you sent that first photo. He fucked your mouth, watching the tears stream down your face, his hands roughly grabbing your breasts, twisting and pinching your nipples until you were a whimpering mess. 

“That’s my good little whore. Take it all, baby. Can’t be so bratty when your mouth is stuffed with my cock, can you?”

Eddie slapped your tits, causing you to jump and squeal as he hit the back of your throat again and again. His dirty talk ceased, replaced with grunts and groans and you knew he was close. He always lost the ability to form coherent thoughts when his orgasm was upon him. He thrust once more and your mouth filled with his release. You closed your lips around his cock until he was through, swallowing every last drop. 

“Oh, that’s a good girl,” he gasped, dark locks plastered to the sides of his face and forehead. “Good girls get rewarded.”

Then he was spinning your body, lifting your legs up, draping them over his shoulders, the crooks of your knees balanced on him, your pussy in front of his mouth. You gasped as he dove in like a man starved, his tongue pressing into your entrance, his nose moving over your clit as he shook his head back and forth. 

“Fuck!” you cried, gripping the sheets tightly in your fingers.

Eddie’s hands gripped your ass, pressing into the supple flesh, and you were helpless beneath them, this position allowing you no purchase to do a damn thing but go along for the ride. His mouth traveled away from your center, teeth biting into the tender skin of your inner thighs, marking you. You gasped, digging your heels into his back, back arched in pleasure, body quaking with need. 

“You’re so pretty when you’re so needy,” he growled, grinning down at you before he took your clit between his lips, turning his head from side to side, taking it with him, pulling at it painfully but fuck, it was so damn good. “See? This is what good girls get. Don’t you want to be a good girl?”

You nodded helplessly, a chorus of mumbling moans falling from your lips as his tongue began flicking over your clit, up and down, side to side, bringing you closer and closer to the orgasm you’d been craving since you’d sent him that photo. 

“Oh, my princess is close. I can feel it,” Eddie crooned, his tongue running from your clit to your entrance and back again. “Come for me, baby. Let me taste you.”

“Fuck!” you screamed, your body shaking, Eddie gripping your hips so you didn’t collapse with the force of your release. 

You gasped for air, but didn’t have time to process anything before he was maneuvering you again, twisting your body and propping you up on all fours. You moaned, prepared for his cock, shocked when you felt two fingers press into you, curling, exploring. He hit that perfect spot and you cried out. 

“Oh yeah, there it is,” Eddie breathed, his other hand coming around to find your breast, this time massaging it gently, his fingers rolling your sore nipple tenderly, always knowing exactly what you needed. “I’m not done with you yet. I promised you aftershocks, baby.”

“Shit…” you whimpered, rocking your hips back against him, grinding yourself against his hand as he continually hit that sweet, spongy place that had you seeing goddamn stars. 

“What were you thinking using a vibrator?” he asked, his hand gripping your hair, pulling your head back. “You’re going to throw that pointless fucking toy away, aren’t you?”

“Yes…yes…” you gasped, your body already racing toward your second orgasm of the night.

“That’s right. You don’t need it, princess. That’s what I’m here for.”

“Yes…I…oh…fuck…fuck…fuck!” you screamed as you rode out the next high. Your body was covered in sweat, every muscle trembling, feeling like it was ready to give out. You collapsed forward on the bed but Eddie’s hand came under your stomach, propping you back up. 

“Oh no. You started this, you dirty little whore and you’re going to finish it with me like the good girl I know you can be,” he growled, those ring clad hands wrapping over your hips. “I’m not done with you yet, princess.”

A cry of pleasure ripped from your lungs as his cock thrust into you from behind. Eddie drove into you relentlessly, fast and hard, your skin audibly smacking against one another. He groaned above you as you dropped to your forearms, your face pressed into the mattress. 

“Fuck, yes, take every single inch of me,” he commanded, his hand snaking around your hips and between your legs, coming once again to your dripping center. “Come on, pretty girl, I know you have one more in you. You’ve come on my tongue and my fingers and now I want to feel you come all over my cock.”

“Eddie, fuck baby, that feels so good…oh shit…I’m so close…”

“I know you are. I can feel it, pretty girl, the way your pussy just swallows me up, fits me like a fucking glove. Shit, I crave this goddamn pussy like I crave a nicotine fix,” he growled, fingers moving over your clit, determined to get you there before him.

He pressed down on your back with his free hand, causing your legs to spread just a bit wider. The position had his cock pressing against that spot again. He was like a fucking sorcerer, the way he always managed to find it. His fingers continued working your center, moving over your clit, so sensitive now it was almost painful. 

“Fuck yes baby!” he groaned loudly as you screeched, fingers clawing at the sheets as you came for the third time. As your walls pulsed around him, pulling him tighter, he quickly followed, hands gripping your hips again for purchase as he thrust through his release. 

You felt as his cock slipped out of you, your body collapsing to the bed, spent but so damn satisfied your skin felt like it was humming. You jumped when you felt something between your legs again but it was just a warm, damp towel. Eddie gently turned you over, cleaning you up, his lips pressing soft kisses over your belly, your hips, your thighs as he did so. 

You lay, eyes closed, exhausted, feeling as if you couldn't move, didn’t want to move. But then his arms were gathering you up, carrying you. Opening your eyes, you saw he had started a bath in the massive jacuzzi tub. He set you down inside, stepping in behind you and pulling your back up against his chest. Fingertips trailed lightly up and down your arms, his lips pressing against your hair, cheek, jaw, just under your ear. 

“Such a good girl…” he praised softly. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“No,” you breathed, melting against him, completely relaxed between the feel of his body and the warm water. “That was so fucking incredible.”

“Mmm…I agree.” His arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly. “I fucking love you, you know that?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty fond of you too,” you teased and he splashed you gently with water before burying his face in your neck, peppering it with kisses. 

[fruit-salad-ship]

eh heh heh heh some dumb teenage ranger antics, because we've mostly had a "gay experience" that was a turning point.

Ranger days would have some fun little moments, the whole dorms having sleep overs that Peach does everything to avoid. She's the unsocialised creature in the mix, and the other students try hard to get her to come sit in the common room with them and play stupid games. They've nabbed a bottle of something boozy, all of 16 just vibing one friday night as a group. Everyone gets along, everyone execpt Peach, who only left her room to get a drink, leaning down into the fridge to her stash of juice.

When she stands back up, everyones looking at her s shes drinking from a carton mindlessly, notably Plum who'd stayed very quiet, sat quite stiffly opposite where she's standing.

"What?" A short sharp bark, not comfortable with the eyes on her. One student points to the bottle on the floor, one end pointing to her, the other end to Plum. Peach has no clue what this is about, not until several other classmates grab her grinning, laughing, joking around in a harmless way, something she's not comfortable with, extremly outnumbered as shes shoved into a closet. She stumbles, turns to try to get out, but the doorway has her rival being pushed inside too, managing to catch herself as the door is shut behind her, this tiny space feeling all the smaller now.

"What the hell is this? Some dumb teenage hazing or?" Peach wasnt even able to keep her juice, someone took it from her in the chaos. Its just them in this stupid storage closet, too close, plums only JUST taller than her, can feel her somewhere close, both trying to stay as far apart as this tiny space allows for. "Its a game, got seven minutes in this place before they let us out." stated matter of factly, folding her arms defencivley. "Whats the point? Sounds like a waste of time, theres nothing to even do in here, why do you people play this junk?"

How was Plum suppose to explain this? The situation was already awful. First theyre paired up in class, teachers thinking they need more time working together to get past their clear rivalry, encouraging teamwork with the threat of failing them if they didnt learn to function as a coherent unit, and now this. "People usually just mess around in here, you know like, make out and stuff. Go figures you dont have a clue, never spent a day with people your own age I swear." She wasnt too far from the truth, waiting for some witty response, getting nothing. In the dark of the closet she struggled to see the shorter ranger trainee, catching just a hint of expression. "Are you...embarrased?" The teasing tone in her voice prompted Peach to snap back quickly. "No!" A clear yes, feeling Peach reach past her for the handle to the door, trying to get free. Course theyd locked it, there was no give at all in her attempts.

This was all too delicious, normally Peach was collected and calm and if anything angry, not at all nervous. Maybe it was the overly sweet super cheap booze she'd been drinking with the others, or the weird need to chase this power trip, but Plum was kind of intrigued. "It's kind of weird seeing you handle something so badly." She took a strategic step forward, close enough for the pair to feel eachothers heat coming off their skin. Peach backed up, tried at least, only finding the back wall and an uneven footing due to a broom she hadnt noticed, the stick of it whacking her in the arm as she struggled to get away, clumsily pushing it off her, trying to figure out a way free. Why not mess with her a bit? Not like there was usually an opportunity for Plum to have the power between them, so just this once she took it.

There was no was she was getting away, finding the little angry form in the dark, one hand on her cheek, Peach totally froze up, no one had been stupid enough to get this close to her physically, she wanted to push back, to shout or do anything that'd gain her some distance but even in the dark as she raised a hand to do so, plum grabbed her wrist, stopped the attempt, instead pulling her closer.

'stop it, stop- get it together, she's just messing with you!' repeatedly thought, a warm cheek against hers that even stopped her trying to pull her caught hand back. "You've never kissed anyone before have you?" The question was so close, breath on her neck, a subtle teasing undertone. "Thats none of your buisness." Another clear answer disguised thinly under a veil of stubborness, something that made Plum smile to herself. "You can just say 'no' like a normal person you know." The power compelled her to get closer, feeling this athletic little body against hers, the pyjamas so painfully Peach, boyish, tank top and shorts in dark colours, never once spotted in a bright tones, the complete contrast to Plum's cute outfit, pastels and frils, silks, cutesy. They couldnt be more opposite.

"Good luck forgetting who took that first from you then." No hesitation, Plum made sure there was no room for a fight, Peach was already unbalanced where she stood, one arm caught, the other trying to keep herself propped up as she was pushed back against the wall with surprising force. The lips that found hers in the dark were soft and gentle, a weird feeling she's not experienced before, too busy working towards the goals laid out by her family, no time for this kind of messing about. Normal teenager junk, not something she had room for.

God she wished she had more room for it.

By the time the pair left the closet, Plum didnt even see her little team mate, laughing with her friends, turning to see Peach already gone off up the hallway back to her room at speed. The brief peak she took over her shoulder upon turning into her dorm revealed a serious blush, something Plum revelled in, a small, perhaps unfair win.

Was it coincidence that Peach was oddly quiet in class after that? Perhaps, but at least they seemed to argue a little less over the small things. Tension however only grew between them. Plum enjoyed the power, and Peach was suddenly very aware of a new aspect of herself she'd never had the chance to consider.

[the-fiction-witch]

Arrangement P3

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating CUTE!

Requests: Arrangement part 3 please 🙏  Parent 3 pleaseeeee, this is so gooodd!! 💗 Part three or even part four where they skip the wedding PLEASEE Part 3 Part 3333 plzzz Part 3 please 🥺🥺 Pleaseee can we have a part 3! This is amazing! I NEED A PART 3

I smiled as I sat across the table from y/n on our third game, we weren't betting but I had won twice already. I had my lucky coin slowly flicking it between my fingers as I often do when I play, she had done pretty well but I was still better. Even if I admit my little firecracker distracted me from time to time looking so cute and adorable, and we'd been playing footsie under the table the last half hour. She folded again so I took her hand and kissed it.

"You play very well my dear," I smiled,

"Just not as good as you," she playfully smiled, 

"I'm sure I'll teach you a few little tricks once we're married?" I winked, 

"I'm sure you will," She giggled, 

"Shall we have another game?"

"No that's alright, I don't want to waste our time proving something we already know." She said, "Besides it's getting late,"

"True, I don't want to keep you,"

"It's alright I don't mind, I mean we have a week to get to know one another its good to use as much time as we can,"

"It is nice to have so much time together," I smiled, "So we have time to get used to each other... But, I do have work tomorrow."

"Umm, I don't want to keep you up if you have work in the morning,"

"Well, if you like I'd be more than happy to come see you after work?" I suggested, "Or if you're not busy you'd be more than welcome to come down to the hospital and visit?" 

"You wouldn't? I woudn/t want to bother you at work,"

"No, no you'd be more than welcome my dear," I smiled, "I'd love for you to come and visit me while I work." I told her as I leant on my arm a little, "I'm sure my macabre little soon-to-be wife would find herself cozy in the morgue with me will I do some work," 

"I'd love to," She smiled, 

She got out of her seat and adjusted her dress so I got up too giving my waistcoat and adjusting, before she walked me to the door, "It has been a pleasure, Jack,"

"It truly has, I admit I am looking forward to our wedding even more now."

"I am as well," she nodded as she squeezed my hand, "Well we have only seven days to wait,"

"Only seven days, and I would love to see you again before the wedding if that's alright with you?"

"I would too, tomorrow if I'm not busy I'll come visit,"

"If I don't see you shall I come up? maybe we could have another game?"

"I'd like that." 

"Well then either way I'll see you," I smiled, "And I look forward to it," I moved a little closer unable to stop looking at her lips, "May I?"

"May you what?" She raised her eyebrow,

"May I kiss you?" I asked her, 

She blushed hard her eyes met the floor, "I- I think we best save that for the wedding,"

"What?" I chuckled,

"I know it's silly but... I think it would be a sweet beautiful moment. For our first kiss to be our wedding kiss."

I smiled, awww that's so cute. I did want to kiss her very badly but... I can't help it that's so adorable! And I mean it's one week. I can wait a week. "if that's what you want." I nodded even if I was a little disappointed, "May I kiss your head at least before I go?"

"You may," she blushed,

I smiled and held her cheeks in my hands her skin so sweet and soft I moved closer and kissed the top of her head, inhaling her sweet scent and feeling her soft hair, I let my kiss linger a little longer as I didn't want to let her go, but I moved back and couldn't hold back my smile. "I'll see you tomorrow my dear."

"I look forward too it Jack," she cooed giving my cheek a kiss before she escorted me out the door she gave me a little wave so I gave her one back before she shut the door. 

I smiled too giddy to move for a while just staring at her red wooden door, my cheek burnt where she kissed me like I couldn't bear it, I wanted to open the door take her in my arms and give her a million kisses. But I headed back to the hospital and collapsed on my bed trying hard not to smile, I had been so worried, so scared, so concerned I was walking into a shit show. But now... having met her. I can hardly wait a single day let alone a week to marry her. I wanted her in my arms. in my bed. watching her read horror novels. letting her read my palm. kissing all over her. and flirting with her till she turns as red as a strawberry and having her be her sexy little firecracker self and making me blush too. I never imagined I'd actually be so smitten with any girl let alone the one I was arranged to marry . But... I couldn't be happier and more excited for tomorrow. 

[strawhatsoraya]

*kicks down door* i'm baaaack~ (are u kidding, i never left in the first place) anyway, ummm can i request levi (obey me) & the prompts: ❛hard to sit here and be close to you, and not kiss you.❜, fireflies, & garden; i leave the rest to u, bonus points if it's angst, but it can be whatever u like *smooches*

wao this is my first leviathan fic. i'm excitedddd. i tried to do something a lil different with the prose. i think i messed up halfway but it is what it is lmao. i hope you like it anyway. it's got some angst at the beginning and finished it with some fluffy fluff for you. there's some smooching but nothing explicit. it's cute.

OBEY ME LEVI X FEM READER / SFW

WC: 2.2k

CW: angst, maybe some depresso espresso implied, but nothing crazy, some fluff, some kissing, that's it!

In the Devildom it was always night.

For some, that would be a miserable existence. Never a speck of light, never the warmth of pure absolute brightness easing the ache in your bones. Instead, there’s an indescribable coldness that settles in the spaces between your joints. It grows a home there, builds turrets, and turns your pain and suffering into a kingdom. Your body becomes ammo for the very same war it wages against you. It conquers you, buries you under its tyrannical foot until you forget what it’s like to look up from the ground. 

Not that it made a difference to Leviathan.

It had always been like that. The cold. The pain. The ground.

Even in the Celestial Kingdom, he had a tendency to keep his eyes on his feet. He’d count his steps carefully, petrified of going down the wrong path. More than anything he wanted to fit in; a place to belong.

But the funny thing about wanting; about real want. The kind that grows like vines between your ribs, and constricts and binds until you’re left breathless, starving, delirious. That kind? 

Want almost always leads to disappointments. If you have enough of those piled up, they quickly turn into fear; and once fear has a hold of the deepest parts of you, you learn to hate the light.

So for Leviathan, who hated the light that reminded him of what he could not have and could not be–the darkness of the Devildom was hardly a punishment.

At least that’s what he would tell himself.

Then why was it that for you, Levi found himself always making exceptions? 

He never planned for you to be in his life. He hadn’t asked for your time, your presence, your friendship. He hadn’t asked for your patient considerations, your gentle kindness. He hadn’t asked for any of it. 

Levi tried to keep you out at first, like the rays of light disturbing his deep slumber. He’d pull the curtains across his heart, hang up a keep out sign, yell and shake his fist at the sky like an old man on a lawn. He did everything he thought he could to stop you from trespassing. 

You paid him no mind. You pushed past the curtains, took down his sign and tucked it under your arm. You joined the old man and yelled at the sky too, then sat on the lawn with him to point at passing clouds. You did everything you could, and he didn’t stop you.

It was admiration, he’d tell himself as his heart would race at the sight of you. It was just merely, purely, only admiration. It didn’t matter how badly his hands would sweat when you’d sit next to him, playing video games with the concentration of a top scholar. It didn’t matter how badly his stomach would flip when you smiled at him. 

It didn’t matter, and it shouldn’t matter, because he didn’t like you. Not like that.

He was Levi, and you were you. There was no changing that. He had no right to have romantic feelings for someone as amazing as you, as lovely, and perfect as you. 

He does his best to bury these feelings. He consumes pounds of his favorite snacks, until Beel expresses concern about his sudden appetite and takes it as a challenge; one that Leviathan quickly loses. There was no competing with Beel when it came to a food challenge.

He tries to hide his wistful sighs between the pages of his favorite manga, so much that Satan finds him annoying, and goes on a tirade that ends up ruining several volumes.

His day is only made worse, when Asmo and Mammon inadvertently break one of his figurines in a fist fight. When he almost threatens to summon Lotan, Lucifer yells at him and calls him overly sensitive. 

Leviathan has had enough. He feels the rage that slumbers always under the surface bubble up. He hears himself say words he’ll regret later that he can’t take back. He feels hot tears prickle behind his eyelids, so he shakes his head and storms off.

He didn’t have much, but Lucifer wasn’t the only one of the brother’s with pride. 

Leviathan locks himself away in his bedroom, curled up on his side under the blankets inside the bathtub. It is cool, and dulls the noise. It feels like being inside a water tank, away from prying eyes. Levi closes his eyes and wishes, not for the first time, that he could sink under dark waters and stay there for eternity; wrapped in its cold current, away from those who don’t understand him.

There’s a soft heaviness that falls over him. He sighs as his breathing becomes shallow, and sleep touches his eyelids gently with cold fingertips. He thinks about giving in, sleeping it off, and maybe feeling better in the morning but he hears a familiar voice calling out his name repeatedly. Levi’s dark brows pull together as the voice persists, and there’s knocking on the door.

“Ugh!” he groans as he throws his blankets off and sits upright in the tub. “Go AWAY!” he yells, his cheeks turning crimson with his efforts. His breathing is ragged, and he is doubly annoyed that he was now disturbed from possibly having a peaceful sleep.

You don’t go away. Instead you knock more furiously.

“Open up, Levi! Come here and talk to me!” you ask him; your voice was clipped with annoyance. Levi felt even more annoyed now. He jumps out of the tub, and stomps barefoot to the door.

“Well, I don’t wanna!” he yells through the closed door. “I have nothing to say to you or my brothers. So if that’s what you’re here for you can forget it!”

There’s silence after he speaks. Leviathan’s breathing starts to calm down, and he swallows, wondering if he successfully spooked you off. He leans in towards the door, trying to hear past it. He presses an ear against it, his indigo hair falling over his eyes.

“You know I’m not going anywhere without you, Levi,” you say softly. It’s like he can feel you, pressing yourself against the door. Leviathan presses his hands against it, imagining you doing the same behind it. “Come out, please. There’s something in the garden, I want to show you. Won’t you come with me?”

Leviathan huffs. 

“It’s late,” he mumbles, pushing away from the door. He glances around the entrance of his bedroom, eyes on the ground–always on his feet. You hear him shuffling behind the door and can’t help but smile. By the softness in his voice, you know you’ve piqued his interest at least. The door creaks open, and Leviathan is peeking from behind it, his golden eyes peer at you from behind a curtain of blue.

You smile as a soft laugh tries to reveal all your secrets. There’s a timid heat rising on the back of your neck. You ignore it, and push your curls away from your face.

“Come on, Levi,” you say, trying on your sweetest whine. You hold out a hand towards him. “I promise you’ll have fun.”

He grumbles as he takes it, mumbling and blushing.

“T-this is-isn’t making me happy or anything,” he says even as you intertwine your fingers with his. “You’re such a normie.”

You hum in agreement to appease him. There’s a smile that once again threatens to destroy all your carefully constructed lies. You bite at the inside of your cheek as you lead him away from his bedroom and towards the garden. 

It was difficult to tell time in the Devildom without a clock or a watch. There weren’t changes in the sky that could be memorized or get used to. All you knew was that it was after dinner time, and you were surely to get in trouble if Lucifer found out.

What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, and surely, he could turn a blind eye this time. After all, you were trying to cheer up one of his little brothers.

“Sit with me,” you ask Levi as you take up space on a stone bench. Leviathan looks down at your joined hands, and feels himself combust. He stammers some kind of response, as the softness of your hand finally settles within him. Your palm is warm against his. Levi drops it and himself onto the bench, keeping a small amount of distance between the two of you.

You sigh, and try to stifle the laughter as best as you can. You bite down on your lip, and look away to help yourself in the end. It wouldn’t do to laugh at Levi right now. It would just sour his mood. The coolness of the stone bench is soothing under your hands.

“Look,” you tell him quietly, and point at the glowing orbs floating in the air all around with a nod of your chin. “Fireflies.”

Levi looks away from his trembling hands long enough to catch the sight of fireflies dancing in the air. Their surreal light glows faintly in the dark. There are so many of them they cast the side of your face in a soft green light. Levi finds himself transfixed. He watches you silently, taking in the roundness of your cheek, the curve of your top lip. He is mesmerized at the way your lashes flutter when you blink, at how the wind softly plays within your wild curls. 

Something tightens in his chest. The sight of you is too beautiful. He feels sick and yet he knows this could not be an illness. This pain had a name. This pain had cost his sister her life.

Levi knows he should cut it out at the root. He should rip out the vines tangled in his rib cage with his hands, even if the thorns tear his skin apart. He knows he should incinerate it all, set it ablaze, throw it out, and never let it resurface again, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to let go.

He’d hold on to you with bloodied hands, with his fingernails torn apart. That selfish part of him, that he loathed, was the only thing keeping him afloat most days.

“Oh, maaan,” he groans under his breath, barely audible. You blink, and avoid turning your head, terrified to interrupt his thoughts. Levi’s expression was one you saw in him from time to time. The way his sunlit eyes would soften, how it seemed like his whole body was lighter. You could feel a revelation there, as if he was dying to tell you a secret. 

“It’s hard to sit here and be close to you, and not kiss you,” his voice is a whisper; a prayer barely spoken. You feel your world stop, and then spin quickly. The fireflies dip in between the two of you, their little dance of lights never stopping. Levi is staring at your mouth, the one that now is agape. You don’t know what to say, or what to do next even as your heart leaps into your throat. 

The words spoken finally register to Levi. He sees your brows drawn in confusion, your eyes riddled with questions, and panics. 

“Uh-uh I mean!” he starts, hands going out as if to stop you from going further–to keep you from asking him for further explanations, to repeat himself. Or perhaps, just to protect himself. “I mean, just pretend you didn’t hear that, okay?”

You shake your head softly.

“I can’t do that, Levi,” you tell him gently. He’s still panicking when you reach out. Your hand gently pats his head, until he calms down. His hair is feathery and soft under your fingers. You smile sweetly as you play with it. “How can I pretend? I can’t forget it now.” You slip your hand behind his head and bring him close to you.

Levi barely has time to breathe when your lips collide with his. He freezes at the warmth of your mouth, the sensation both foreign and thrilling. There’s a fire that sets its course through his body, running rampant along his veins. His hands feel awkward, as if they should be anywhere but in the air touching nothing as they were now–so he settles, quite bravely, by holding your free hand with both.

You pull away to give him room to breathe, and smile back at him, mirth dancing in the dark depths of your brown eyes. Leviathan thinks he’ll never stop blushing in your presence now.

“Next time give me a warning!” he says while watching you, pressing the back of one hand against his mouth. His face partially hidden there makes him look even more precious. You fight the immense urge to kiss him again.

“And I think, next time you want to kiss me,” you say, carefully and slowly reaching out to touch his face. Levi is so skittish you’re afraid he’ll run from you if you move too fast. Your fingers dance over the shell of his ear, before you tuck his hair behind it. Levi shivers, feeling a  new strange heat pool at the pit of his belly. “You should just do it.”

“Okay,” he agrees, mostly because he can’t think straight with your fingers against his ear; mostly because now all he can think about is kissing you, and kissing you, and kissing you.

And so he does, just like he promised. 

You smile into his kiss. Levi wraps his arms around your waist and you hold on to him gently, letting him lead this dance for once, with the fireflies as witness.

[shadowslocked]

Mmmm I get wanting egg deaths for tasty drama, it’s really fun! I even wish Dappers first death had been kept because Bads reaction was really good (tho I also don’t mind them reversing it due to game glitch)

But I don’t really vibe with the idea that the eggs dying NEEDS to happen for stories sake particularly in a role play setting. It’s hard to find the exact words for why I’m bothered by it, but I guess it just the idea that the story is only at its most compelling when the eggs die doesn’t make a lot of sense to me. Like, surviving danger, living despite the the hardships? That’s just as interesting! That’s an equally good story and having less death doesn’t diminish that!

And I guess it’s like, it starts to feel like people want a death so badly they’re willing to overlook any unfairness to make it happen. Like being mad that Ramon’s death was reversed even though it was made clear it was because the Binary Monsters admin broke a rule that the admins themselves had in place. If they had decided to keep the death it would be s major red flag to the role players that any rules the admins have in place will be broken just because they want to.

“Your bunker is supposed to be completely safe? Not unless the admins change their minds!”

Ehhhhh, idk man, I’m not gonna fault people wanting more drama, just don’t really vibe with the push that egg deaths are the height of storytelling or absolutely necessary.

[aleburton]

xiv. greedy

@fuckzachariah

The sound of her fizzy laughter ricocheted between the walls, accompanied by the tick of her Louboutin heels against marble. She was running, sloshing the high-priced champagne round her coupe cocktail glass. It poured over the rim, trickling over her fingers and the diamond adorned bands that encircled them. What number was this? Three? Four? She had lost count. Another set of footsteps trudged behind, edging inward to close the gap between them. An inked limb wound around her waist, urging her gently into the wall. She was willowy, luxuriating in her insobriety. Alexandra glimpsed upward, a familiar pair of deep, chocolate brown eyes gazing back at her. So much time had passed and yet none at all. She and Zach were seemingly no closer to reconciliation but had successfully established a friendship, or something similar to one. What would you call two former lovers, still deeply enmeshed with one and other, attempting platonic companionships? Delusional? Though she had been given covert permission to move on, she could not. Her heart, still bruised and fatigued from all that had occurred, remained tethered to his and she was unsure if she had any desire to change it.

They understood their limits. Like plucking the pin from a grenade, it would detonate; capable of blowing apart anything and everything in its path. Because they were uncertain if they could survive it, they proceeded with caution. There were moments, however. She could feel Fate’s heavy hand coiling its fingers around her throat, threatening to drag her back from whence she came. Sometimes, she wanted to stop fighting it. Let go. Just be. But that would be selfish. At least, that’s what she told herself to keep from succumbing to her weakness. Stuck in a wretched, romantic purgatory, she resigned herself to harmless taunts and teasing. Isaaq refused to relent on his advances toward her, though not bold enough to act on them in front of the wrong people. Another lovestruck, music heartthrob pining after the disrespectfully beautiful redhead. He did not seem to care that he was jeopardizing his career by toying with something that did not belong to him. An affair that could see him ostracized in an instant. All it would take is a quiet whisper, a rumor to end it all. Just for her.  

Alex blinked; her smile bubbling as it stretched across her face. “What do you want?” A rhetorical question. It was obvious, though she would never turn down the opportunity to hear how badly she was desired. Isaaq lifted an arm, flattening his palm against the wall beside her. He shook his head. His voice was low and hoarse, “Really? You’re just going to keep playing games with me?” Her eyes rolled, feigning ignorance as if she hadn’t spent the last hour pressed against him out on the dance floor. “Because we danced? And now you’re in love with me?” She leaned inward, the scent of sweet champagne and Baccarat Rouge flooding his senses. In that moment, he felt like he was. It was intoxicating. Before she could voice another infuriating insult, he kissed her. Hard. And Alex did nothing to stop him. Her inebriation. Her desperation. It wanted whatever this was. Her hand wrapped around his neck. This simple movement startled her. Perhaps she anticipated the slightly raised outline of angel wings beneath the tips of her fingers. Or arms wrapped tightly around her waist, lifting her to wander her into the closest, dark room with a door. Maybe she was wishing it was Zach.