— ☆ “YOU REALLY ARE A FREAK . . . KYLAR .”
promise he didn’t mean to stupidly jack off to you , it was just hormonal urges acting up, yeah.
Fuck, underneath this thin layer of pure impulsivity, he’s undeniably aware that he should’ve stopped things here the second it escalated— Hastily shut off the cheaply recorded clips hazily shown back towards him by the dimly lit monitoring of his screen. He had his tell-tale suspicions secretly simmering deep within, yeah, lil’ freak here knew you weren’t necessarily the most loyal of people ‘round town. Didn’t mean his skittish eyes to instinctively seek yours out in a crowded room, hidden amongst the numerous people he’d usually glance over in bare disinterest when in search for your own recognizable frame. A harmless crush, he’d initially call it to soothe the lurking urges annoyingly gnawing at the back of his mind, repeatedly whispering to him the instinctual need to fervently possess you further, sweetly leave his fair share of littered marks all around your unblemished skin so that the town may notably take notice of your cherished bond.
Still, this is— this is so fuckin’ unfair, y’know?? How dare you merely prove your brazen disloyalty to him time and time again and here he is, curled fist stubbornly snug around his leaking cock, tacky globs of pre-cum profusely dribbling out of his swollen slit as if he’s not crudely getting off to the sight of you— you, fucking getting your whorish boy hole ruined by another person. Desperate bucks of his hips, jeans carelessly slung down to his ankles below, rest of his sticky with cum underwear probably thrown somewhere along the scattered mess in his room. It’s sick, downright vile and he knows it, but fuck— it has started off with a familiar scowl making its way past his normally soft features when faced with your usually placate room devoid of anyone else but his watchful eyes carefully taking in the sight of your snoozing frame comfortably tucked away under the woollen covers.
Except, you’re not truly alone and ah, here goes.. Robin? Seamlessly sneaking himself into your room instead, not him, but that fucking friend of yours constantly sticking to your sides at school, outside of there too — yes, he’s checked, no he’s not a creep for it! — Affectionately nosing along the crook of your neck, muttering out wistful words, he, himself cannot possibly hope to discern considering his— well, namely cheap equipment he has to forcibly deal with, here. Subtle brush of your best friend’s palm sneakily disappearing underneath the thick blanket, though he can barely make out the outline of his hand dizzyingly slipping its way past your boxers, probably.. hah, feeling your cute cock up, sticky mess pervertedly staining the material already. The little, heated sighs collectively tumbling forth from both of your lips, discreetly obscured within the dark corners of your narrow room shouldn’t be affecting him this much. Yet, it is as proven by the burning flush heating his cheeks, teeth instinctively digging into the rosy flesh of his bottom lip. Inwardly seething at the pure display of love intimately being shown to him — without your aforementioned knowledge too, by the way — and that his cock itself is painfully reacting to it, stupidly tented against the front of his ripped jeans, craning his neck closer as if it might magically allow him to see your movements beneath.
Don’t need to wait all that long for it since you decisively do the honours for him of course, or unfortunately Robin here, whose hands and lips are busying themselves all over your originally untouched body. Supple fingertips coyly caressing rhythmic circles along your hips, thumb lovingly circling around the edge of your hot, drooling tip freed out in the air. Relishing in the hitched gasps, slightest shivers of your curled frame snugly pressed against his, adorably pleading for more with a needy whine of his name. A name, name that should be Kylar’s — not his. Repressed freak frustratingly chewing at his chipped nails, gaze not leaving your glazed over eyes for the briefest of seconds in favour of freeing his fat, throbbing cock from the tight of confines of his pants. It’s— It’s not bad! He’s just helping himself because at the end of the day, he’s nothing but a man too, just like you. A pathetic loser who’s wracked in a mess, stupidly fisting his cock at the bare sight of your figure being sinfully defiled by your best friend hidden beneath the haphazardly spread sheets. Swollen, pink nipples shown out in the cooling air for his eyes to breathlessly take in, soon also taken by Robin’s mouth hungrily latching onto one of them. Audibly suckling on the perky buds with noisy sucks, relishing in the muted gasps gradually being drawn out of you. Noticeable scrunch of your face, timid grasp finding its way entangled along the soft strands of your best friend’s hair in a shy mewl for more cuz’ shit, it must feel good, right?
He could make you feel way better than that, promise! Though that’s the very last repetitive protest on his blurring mind, dumbly shut off as he jerks himself off. Slippery slides of his palm gliding along his cum coated length in an audible squelch!, rhythmic up-and-down motion of fisting his cock raw against his palm, furiously humping upwards in time with each controlled thrust of Robin on the other end. Hah, wonder what you’d do if you truthfully knew what he’s currently doing, how that precious owl toy gifted to you on that faithful day wasn’t for innocent intentions and all that, wasn’t to kindly look over you to make sure you’re always at ease. He means, it is! But, not necessarily that, no— in fact, it’s for opportunities like this. Like a pervert, he’s shamelessly getting off to your tight, little fucking hole being stuffed full of your best friend’s fat cock, bobbing dick cutely swaying between the tantalizing spreading of your thighs. Legs deftly locked around Robin’s hips in a tentative beg to keep going! and feels so fuckin’ good! and oh, how he wishes he was the one stupidly balls deep inside of you. Subtle arch of your back, peppered kisses being repeatedly planted against your pouty lips, lolling tongue and rolling eyes and fuuuckkk—- it’s the second you make immediate contact with him, maybe not out of purpose. No, definitely not, but the split second of eye contact you both share, slightest flicker of your gaze settling upon the owl who’s flickering camera is blinking back, recording this all — that has his hips stuttering, head impulsively thrown back and whiny moans hurriedly spilling past his open lips as hot spurts of his sticky seed spurt out of his cock and into the air. Stiffening limbs wracked with his orgasm, quivering legs sat atop his creaking chair all the while milking every last drop of his cock, till it uselessly dribbles out in pitiful droplets onto the ground.
Ah, look at the effects you have on him that he embarrassingly enough, cums so quickly from a mere glance of your eyes in his direction. And really, how he should be properly blaming you for the coated mess on his wooden floorboards which he should be currently cleaning right about now, lest his parents find out again. Truly, he should probably go and.. grab a wet rag now.
..And some tissues for later.
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b-bonten taking turns eating you out n makin you rate each of em outta ten but you’re so fucked out you can’t choose 🥺🦋
stassie?!!?? THIS IDEA???
it’s like, a regular bonten game night turns a bit competitive when some of them don’t wanna admit their defeat to one another — it’s ran who suggests “why don’t we play a different game?” . . . you would’ve never thought his idea would be to lay you across his bed, all of the organization staring your cute body down as ran has his way with your cunt. and the way he eats it, he’s practically making out with your pussy — moaning as if he hadn’t eaten a meal as good as you before n he’s super neat with it . . . the neater you are, the sloppier you’ll become.
it’s a full rotation, to sanzu who eats it like he hasn’t the slightest respect for the cunt he creams in every other night, to koko who truly looped himself into this foolishness sheerly by accident — his dexterous tongue switching between deeply tonguefucking you to flicking at your clit.
and you can’t forget about rindou and kakucho ! rindou’s such a sweet “older brother” to kakucho, guiding him while he eats you out. kaku is new to these things and he’s quite shy as well but with rindou by his side, aiding him to “go faster — suck her clit — slip in two fingers” kaku feels like a pro.
too bad for you when you can barely remember your own name and you’re a twitching mess covered in your cum. maybe they’ll leave the rating for tomorrow — when your legs are too weak to move.
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HI!!
so this post of yours got me thinkibg:
And I found a whole entire AMAZING FIC LIKE ITS SO GOOD 👌 where that’s the plot
idk if you can see the link but if not, it’s called Factory Settings on A03 so if your interested please give it a look I BEG
it’s legitimately so good
Oh, I've been reading it, it's currently in my bookmarks actually, and it's pretty lovely
but I thiiiink that fic has Crowley turn back into Twinkliel instead of having them both exist at the same time, which is what my idea was skbfs
I know there's a similar fic to that that was written before s2 came out where Crowley gets split into his demonic and angelic halves (find it here), buuut this isn't what this is either
Think of it as Aziraphale accidentally making a new Twinkliel out of an older record of Crowley in the Book of Life
Like restoring a file
The point here being that they're not the same person, Twinkliel's name was,,, lets say "smudged", and on top of it, Crowley's was written.
Aziraphale tried miracling the "smudge" to combine with Crowley's current name but he ended up separating them and making Twinkiel part 2 electric boogaloo
Crowley's still the same (aka still has memories of his fall and life as an angel) because his current name encompasses those experiences already
If you're an artist you can see this as restoring an older, unfinished version of a piece in paint tool sai whilst still having the finished piece file open in another tab
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The thing I love the most about Alastor is that we can't truly know what to think of him, if he is being truly manipulative or if there's a genuine undertone behind any of his words, and that allows people to interpret him differently from one person to another. Like "oh he's being so sweet and supportive", to "no actually he's just saying what people want to hear because he's an evil manipulator". Maybe some fans are being too trustful, just like Charlie, and falling into his lies. BUT maybe there's a true genuine undertone to everything he says, maybe he can be a sweetie behind his evil mask. And maybe he'll turn out redeemable. Or not at all. Who knows?
His character could go in two completely different directions in the next seasons and we have no way of telling how he'll turn out. It's still fully open because he showed he can be awful and evil and manipulative, but since there's been very few hints here and there that he could get attached to the hotel, that means he could be sweet despite all that. The mystery and uncertainty is keeping us thinking and hoping and I LOVE that. He's such a unique and amazingly written character.
On a personal note, I think the two different directions his character could take should coexist. Yes, he's going to be a main villain in the future seasons and betray Charlie and the hotel, yes he's an evil manipulator, BUT he could also get attached to them and show redeemable qualities at the same time. For me it would make the heartbreak even greater and his character even more satisfying.
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