#this is a more proper drabble

[miscellaneoussmp]

I'm normal about Team Bolas Rojas and family dynamics, I promise! Anyway, here's a look into Team Bolas Rojas family dinner (cw/tw: implied/mentioned violence/blood/death, religion mentions throughout):

Time has run out for today, yet those in red remained wide awake. Nothing else had to be done. It was time for dinner in the hyenas den. Gas masks discarded for the meal; and later sleep. All seven members of the team (pack bond, clan of hyenas) sit on the cave floor. They sit around a bountiful meal of pork chops, toast, glow berries, potatoes, and carrots. In another world, this would be an amazing meal, yet this is the seventh circle (purgatory, really). Their meal sits on leftover wood in order to keep the food somewhat clean.

A hand darted out for the food. It doesn't matter whose it was really, as it darted back quickly after a soft yet scolding hiss from Philza. He sat at the head of their on the floor dining table. He presses his hands together for prayer. Cellbit looks through his dirty hair, and he laughs. "Come on, guys. Listen to dad." He cups his hands together. The rest of the team (pack bond, hyena clan) bursts into manic laughter. When Charlie's hand presses together, there's an electric hum. Baghera, Jaiden, and Foolish all follow suit. Even Carre holds his hands together for whatever prayer will follow. He may be their quietest member with a tendency to disappear early, but even he isn't exempt from the hysteria. He's their good luck charm, paraphrased from Charlie Slimecicle. Carre's hands are stained with blood, too. He was the one to chant for a lone wolf's death as Cellbit and Jaiden ran him down in the desert. The glint in Carre's eyes matched the rest of the team's (pack bond's, hyena clan's) eyes.

The prayer started as a well put together chant led by Philza. It quickly devolved, as the tendency of the pack bond, the hyena clan (the team). It was pure nonsense and more manic laughter. "Amen!" Seven voices chorused in semi-unison. An impressive feat. Food was grabbed from the center almost immediately after. Family dinner, what an amazing way to end another day in the seventh circle of hell (purgatory).

[azzayofchaos]

Hey… hey? Anyone want a modern au where everything is pretty normal except the city’s postal system is run by Eldritch Demons through actual Hell? I’ve been insane about this one recently.

Gem!

Stress and False!

Doc and Martyn!

Scar and Cub! (Also Grian)!

Bdubs!

Pearl Details!

Tango Details!

Etho Details!

Cleo!

Non art/Asks:

A Report on the Postal Demons

GigaCorp/Ren

Joel

The Club That Shall Not Be Named

Close ups I like.

Ouppy… Etho is essentially a kitsune and I was informed that they’re traditionally considered seductresses and who am to deny the bit. It just happens his main pull is being a social anxious mess. Zedaph is a very okay and normal guy I promise.

This impulse portrait I am so happy about… Rendog and his rom com shit… BUG.

[mageofmadness]

◞♡ nsfw thinking….sex tape thoughts.

thinking about that and thinking about caleb getting pissed when his phone runs out of storage but it’s because there’s over a dozen thirty minute videos of you getting fucked in his photos app. in 4k, of course, with the highest frames per second, too, and that's even after he's gone in and edited and cut the videos so it's easier when he's spending lonely nights in skyhaven and wants to jerk off.

he’s trying to clear memory, standing there with you bent over the couch and waiting. moaning about hurry up with it and what are you doing?

caleb's fumbling with his phone one-handed because it's giving him that memory full notification when he opens his camera app. he goes to frantically delete everything important, yet...it's all important. he cannot part with a single video which is causing this issue in the first place. he cannot part with a single photo. he starts deleting apps left and right, panicking because you just look so good right now, he needs this on video, and watches in horror as it only clears up enough space for a thirty seconds in the end, just enough memory to capture the way his cock pushes into you from behind.

[gojoest]

Postpartum Gojo would be hilarious because of your pregnancy freak Gojo, can you imagine him not being able to do anything but he’s so respectful to you cuz he loves you that much to not hurt you so he rather suffer with blue balls

postpartum satoru is struggling…. he is truly pathetic bc he needs to be patient and civil until your body is done healing….but he is in so much pain, he misses you so bad. he jerks off to you so bad. SO BAD. bc being a mother, the mother of his child, looks so so beautiful on you…….

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Drabble-A-Thon Prompt #12

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit

Prompt: Freestyle!

Contents: Age play, cam boys, live stream, daddy kink, feminization, corruption kink, intoxication kink, Consensual Non-Consent, hand job, cum eating, implied blow job, implied anal sex.

Dabi is already nervous when Tomura has finished setting up the cameras. He knew what he was getting into when he started seeing someone who worked as a cam guy. He wanted him anyway, and if Duster had turned him down when he'd asked him out after seeing him at V time and time again, then he probably would have just been a pathetic simp spending money on his streams trying to get him to degrade him, or really get any attention he could. It was lucky for him that he thought it was cute when one of the bouncers had approached him hesitantly after his shift to ask for his number. He didn't expect Shigaraki to take one look at him, say he wouldn't need that until later, and then be pulled into the center of the room and told to get on his knees. He had bruises for a week from how hard he'd dropped to do exactly what he was told. That was the first time he'd ever done anything at the club, though plenty of his coworkers had been in similar positions during their off hours. He'd cum so hard just from the humiliation alone that Tomura had cooed at him for ages afterward and decided to keep him. 

His personality was just as measured when he was off the clock as when he's working, and he did keep working. Dabi doesn't have a problem with that, he's not the kind of selfish bastard who would want his partner to leave his job just because they started dating. Maybe some of that was because he still watches all of his streams, getting more and more worked up, and when the cameras cut, it means that Tomura gets to use Dabi's body to his heart's content. He'd gotten so hot during Tomura's Halloween stream when he'd been dressed as a demon that he'd accidentally started smoking up their apartment, which the stream thankfully bought as just being a fog machine to enhance the vibes. Tomura had teased him past the point of coherence for that one, but it was more than worth it. 

It was only after a year of dating that he'd asked if Dabi would want to be on stream with him. He's worked with other streamers before, properly fucking subs on camera and usually also cross posting those to a few different amateur porn sites. He just hasn't done that part since they got serious and he collared Dabi. He thinks he has every right to be nervous about this, especially because they're... playing in a way that Dabi hasn't ever shown anyone that he likes before. And of course his lover couldn't do anything halfway. He has his cameras all set up, and hired one of his friends who is a makeup artist to come over to make sure that Dabi was perfect for his debut, while he redecorated his entire filming room. If Dabi didn't know better, he would guess that this wasn't even their apartment anymore.

"Are you ready, firefly?" Tomura asks, ready to start the cameras. 

Dabi is already blushing so badly that the quirk-repression bands at his wrists are doing their best to keep his temperature down. "Yeah, green, Tomura." It had taken him months to go forward with this, and he wants to start to get it done. When they start, it will be okay, it's the anticipation that is killing him. 

He turns on the cameras, starts the stream, and then moves over to the bed. Dabi can see how they look from one of the screens in the corner of his eye. He's wearing a sweet lolita style dress, cupcake shaped, and covered in lace, all pale pink and white. The style is so counter to what he'd expected Tomura to want him in compared to their usual play, his legs completely covered in stockings, and his arms in long sleeves with big ruffled cuffs that leaves him more clothed than he is on a normal day. Tomura promised he would like it when they got into things though, and he lets himself take a breath and then pretend the cameras aren't there. 

"There you are, baby girl," Tomura shuts the door softly to give the cameras something to pick up on before he starts to move towards the bed. He's wearing one of his full suits in a delicious blood red that always makes Dabi hot. 

"You're home, Daddy." His voice trembles a little from his nerves. 

"And I get to stay with you all night, princess. Doesn't that sound nice" 

Dabi does his best not to squirm on the bed. "Yes, Daddy." Tomura comes and perches on the edge of the bed with him.

"What's wrong, baby? Aren't you excited? You always want to spend time together." Dabi never thought that so much of their scening felt like improv before, but now he’s struggling to come up with anything to say as he is left desperately trying to not look at the cameras. Tomura doesn't have that same nervousness though, and he stops undoing his tie so that he can reach a gloved hand out towards him. Dabi takes it gratefully and scoots closer to him on the bed. Tomura pulls him into his side, and presses a kiss to the top of his head. "Is my baby girl growing up so much he doesn't want to spend time with his daddy anymore?" 

Dabi shakes his head, tangling his fingers in his shirt. "I'll always want to spend time with you, Daddy." It earns him another hum and then a second kiss against his hair.

"But you are growing up. Maybe it's time I showed you something special that we can do together." 

Dabi thinks he knows what that means and tries not to look too over-eager. "Really?" 

"Yeah," He's not expecting Tomura to let go of him and reach over to the minifridge instead of starting to touch him. When he pulls out three bottles of soju. He normally doesn't drink with his quirk suppressed, and he normally goes for something harder than this because of that, but he doesn't know how alcohol is going to affect him when he's got it turned off. Besides, it wouldn't keep the illusion if Tomura came back with whiskey, because then he couldn't take off the bottle cap and bring it to Dabi's lips with the gentle encouragement of, "Here, princess. Why don't you try some of this grown-up juice." 

He lets the other tip it into his mouth, taking a little swallow first and pulling away as he swallows. "It's hot, Daddy." 

"It's sweet too, baby. Here, try a little more, I know that you're going to like it." 

Dabi doesn't know if this is working for other people, or if this is just an elaborate fantasy of Tomura's that he wanted to ask him for, but over the course of the next... however long. Dabi ends up sitting in his Daddy's lap, sipping at the soju. He feels floaty and hot, unable to pay attention to anything but how nice it is to be cozy in his lap, and have the little kisses and sweet words murmured against his skin as he keeps giving him bottle after bottle of the sweet drink. He is starting to get hot though as the alcohol makes up for his repressed quirk and he starts to squirm a little in the restrictive clothes. 

"What's wrong, baby girl?" 

"'m getting hot, Daddy." He doesn't think he's ever gotten drunk off of soju before, but he feels it hitting him hard and making his head spin. 

"Okay, baby, why don't I help you cool off?" Daddy shifts him, taking off his shoes and then slipping Dabi's stockings off of his legs. That helps a lot and Dabi settles back against his lap. Tomu also gives him a fresh bottle of the peach flavored drink, so cold against his palms that it feels really nice. "Is that better, sweetheart?" 

He manages a hazy little nod. Everything feels a little distant until Tomura starts to pet along his thighs, tracing his staples and teasing his fingers up the hem of his rumpled skirt. Daddy is barely touching him, but it feels good. "'s nice, Daddy." 

"Good. I want you to feel nice, princess." It earns him another kiss against his temple and Dabi likes that a lot too. "You're getting so much bigger, do you think you're ready to try other things that feel nice?" 

His brain is swimming, but he recognizes that tone, figures out what Tomura means, and is more than ready to get out of these clothes and have his lover's cock deep inside of him. "Okay, Daddy." 

"Don't spill your drink, precious." He warns, and then his hands are moving up Dabi's thighs, higher and higher until his skirt is pooled against his stomach and he's starting to pant as anticipation heats his whole body. Tomura is the only one who's ever seen him like this, but he thinks there must be people watching. They must be seeing him getting hard in the delicate pink panties that his Daddy got for him. "Look at that," Tomu puts his hand over his cock and squeezes him lightly. "Still my little girl everywhere it counts," he purrs. "Your little clit is getting so cute and hard." 

Dabi can't help but mewl with embarrassment. Daddy always likes to call his cock and hole other things when he's being his little girl, but it's so humiliating when he can't pretend not to like it. And he can't hide how much he likes it now because he's getting hard so fast. He doesn't know if he's ever felt this desperate after just a few light touches, but he is feeling dizzy from how badly he needs it, and his panties start to get wet far faster than normal. 

"Daddy--" 

"It's okay, baby girl, I promise I'm going to help you feel so good." Tomura brings his other hand to the bottom of the bottle and makes Dabi bring it back up to his lips. "Finish your juice, princess." He makes him drink the rest of the bottle and Dabi is sure that if he tried to stand he wouldn't be able to get his feet under him. It doesn't matter much to his aching arousal though. He drops the empty bottle on the bed as Tomura sneaks his hand into his underwear and starts to stroke him in all the ways that he knows bring him over the edge quickly. Dabi tries to pull at his wrist to make him slow down, not wanting to embarrass himself even more by cumming so fast on stream, but Tomura's mouth goes against his ear. "Don't fight it, princes. You're going to be a good girl for Daddy, aren't you?" 

Dabi doesn't think he has a choice with how quickly his body gives in to the pleasure that his Daddy is giving him. It only takes a few more strokes for him to forget to pretend. His head is just back against Daddy's shoulder, his hips moving up into his touch, chasing that pleasure again and again until he can't help it, and lets out a loud moan as he cums far too quickly and soaks Tomura's hand and his panties. He's still gasping and trembling when he slips his hand out from his soiled underwear and brings his fingers up to his lips. 

Dabi's face heats even more. "Don't, Daddy-- it's dirty!" 

Tomura licks his spend from his skin and hums softly. "You're sweet, princess, and I like making you so happy. I want to make you happy, sweetheart." He says. Dabi has a hard time focusing through the intoxication and the aftershocks of his orgasm, but he feels like he should have seen it coming when Tomura levels him with a calculating look. "You want to make me happy too, don't you, baby?" 

"Yes, Daddy." 

"That's good," he praises gently, stroking his hair with his clean hand. "Come here, I'll show you how to make me happy." Dabi is glad Tomura mostly moves his body for him because he would not have managed otherwise, but he moves to put him between his legs, palming the clear outline of his cock in his pants, before he opens them up and pulls himself out when Dabi is eye-level to his cock, his mouth already starting to water. "It makes you happy when Daddy gives you kisses, doesn't it?" 

"Uh-huh, like Daddy's kisses." He slurs immediately.

"It would make me very happy if you could give Daddy kisses here." Dabi hesitates because he's not sure how this is supposed to work in this kind of scene, but Tomura takes the lead, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and drawing him in closer. "Give me a kiss, baby girl." 

Dabi lets himself be guided closer and timidly presses a kiss to the tip of his cock. 

"There, Daddy is going to show you how to be a good girl, okay, princess? If you do a good job, then Daddy's going to do one more thing tonight to show how much he loves you. Won't that be nice, sweetheart?" 

"...Okay, Daddy."

"Good girl. Now stick out your tongue, precious." 

Dabi doesn't know how this wasn't on the list of things he thought he would be doing when he asked an adult content creator to date him, but no matter how much he complains about having a hangover for the first time in his life the next morning, the truth is that he knows that he's never going to stop getting hard watching how completely Tomura took him apart throughout the rest of the session. 

Thanks so much for participating! If you're interested in joining in, consider checking out my Ko-fi here! Drabble-A-Thon ends 9/15!

[prythianpages]

hello all! just wanted to say thank you for giving me the time of your day by liking, reblogging, commenting on my stuff & following me! I appreciate it & love sharing my writing with you all ❤️

I wish I had something prepared to celebrate reaching 3K but unfortunately, ya girl is never prepared for anything 😭

but my goal was to finish a series as a thank you & though ideally, I intended to write & finish a series before uploading, it kind of worked out with this new Eris series. Maybe I manifested this into existence lol.

[gravesung-moving]

TICK TOCK.

The clock had just struck noon when Riposte Alaric ran a sword through her best friend. 

Granted, it was a dueling sword: school-issued, enchanted to pass harmlessly through the target with a mark left behind in a color dictated by the severity of the damage. But a rapier was a rapier, and Riposte was undoubtedly the best swordswoman in Drakarth Conservatory’s student body. 

“Look, I apologize for calling you a slacker,” said Riposte, dancing backward to avoid a quick jab and a swing from Jupiter’s saber. “But you haven’t woken up before noon a single day this week. You’ve been late to every class, you haven’t once taken notes, and I can’t keep covering for you. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to start working—“

Their swords clashed at their bases, right above the hand-guards. Jupiter pressed down, swung them horizontal; Riposte shifted her weight to take the force, but he was stronger and heavier, and he’d pinned her where she stood by keeping both arms straining to keep her sword from falling. He leaned forward, pressing in, until they were close enough to feel the warmth of each other’s breath.

“Don’t you dare say working harder,” he hissed, “I am. I’m working harder than you are!”

“You cannot be serious!”

“Little Miss Perfect,” Jupiter mocked. “Soaring to the top in her first week of school and staying there ever since. Better at swords. Better at tests. Better at paying attention in class and waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to train every single fucking day. I get it! You don’t need to rub it in my face!”

“You and I are tied at the top, and you would have a much easier time staying there if you actually applied yourself for once instead of slacking off every class period.”

He advanced again. She ducked under his raised arm and delivered an elbow to the unguarded spot underneath his ribs — right over his liver. As Jupiter gasped and doubled over, Riposte swung behind him and kicked out his legs from under him. He fell to his elbows, rolled to the side and shot back up onto his feet. 

Jupiter’s clumsy blade would come from her right next. Riposte floated left as he lunged, leaned into the opening she’d created, then softened her knees and dropped her weight just as the sword swiped through the air where her head had been. Jupiter stumbled forward. Riposte was low, but not by much, and she was steady. Her body moved like the rapier in her hand was an extension of herself. She brought the blade close to her midsection and darted past him, sideswiping Jupiter with a long slash across his waist. Her heel dug into the gravel as she pivoted to stand behind him, sword braced to block the inevitable downward swing

It didn’t come.

“You sleep around instead of training,” said Riposte. “You complete every single mundane task you’ve been putting off for weeks or months just to avoid studying until the last possible second. I take notes as detailed as possible because you won’t write anything down and I don’t want you to miss anything! Jupiter, you have such a natural talent for spellcrafting. You can work a room or a debate like no one else. If I didn’t have to coddle you —”

“I never asked you to coddle me.” Jupiter’s back was turned. Riposte could see his shoulders heaving, the wild mane of black curls loose around his shoulders and back from where it had fallen out of its bun. If this were a real fight, she would have skewered him a dozen times by now.

“Then don’t act pathetic enough to need it,” she said.

Her friend’s head turned to face her before his body did. As it came into view, first a sliver of cheekbone and then the rest, Riposte was startled by the look in his eyes. It wasn’t wild with glee or childish rage. It was pained. His dark brows were knitted, jaw clamped shut, dark eyes betraying a level of hurt that she had never once seen in him, not in their entire lives. Especially not directed at her.

She blinked. The look was gone. 

“Blue,” he said. “Yoo-hoo! You listening? Did you even hear me?”

Riposte blinked again, silent.

“So you don’t even care what I have to say now. If I’m such an idiot to you, fine.”

“Jupiter.” The adrenaline was beginning to wear into exhaustion. Her head was spinning, still off-kilter from that odd moment of possession. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean any of that. I’m sorry.”

“No.” There it was again — that hint of pain, a flash of genuine anger. “You don’t get to back out now. We’re ending this. Let’s see if this idiot child can stumble into a victory, shall we?”

His words stung, but Riposte knew he wouldn’t back down until the duel was over. He was too stubborn to yield and too emotional to calm down. Best to end it quickly. There was a horrible, nagging feeling radiating like a sickness through her mind — it felt like deja vu, but she couldn’t place where it came from. They hadn’t ever fought like this before. They’d dueled over petty arguments plenty of times, but Jupiter never lashed out with this level of vitriol. It was always a barb meant to hurt in the moment and immediate regret or escape. Something was wrong. And somehow, it felt like this wasn’t the first time.

Riposte shook away the haze and sidestepped right as Jupiter advanced with a lightning-fast lunge. He was feinting. It was a very convincing feint — Riposte wouldn’t have known if she hadn’t learned his tells so well at this point — and she skipped backwards to avoid a pulsing burst of dark energy from his offhand. Without missing a beat, he took a step and pivoted to cut off her path and get close; his other hand had drawn a dagger from his belt. Riposte leapt straight up to avoid both of his weapons sailing toward her from either side. She gave herself some extra momentum by teleporting a few feet upward before landing hard on his sword wrist with the heel of her shoe. sending him stumbling forward with a hiss. Another teleport took her backwards onto the gravel in front of his unsteadied body. He was wide open. Before she could think, she lunged forward and stabbed the length of her rapier once through his heart.

“I am so — sick of this,“ she said, pulling the sword back out with a grunt of effort. 

Jupiter dropped to one knee with a pained wheeze. The dueling swords Drakarth had students use when challenging each other for a personal vendetta were physically harmless, but that didn’t mean being run through with one didn’t hurt like Hell. The pain was programmed in. Knowing what a stab wound felt like was a valuable learning experience, and according to the faculty, a proper price to pay for the idiocy of challenging a fellow student to a duel instead of talking about your feelings.

“Riposte,” said Jupiter, “do me this mercy… end it.” He looked up at her. Whatever had come over him seemed to have dissipated; that awful look in his eyes had vanished and left no echo. Instead, she saw the telltale, patented glimmer of amusement and mischief that belonged to her first, best, only friend. Had she imagined it after all? Perhaps it had just been the heat of the fight. Just adrenaline. Just a petty argument like the rest.

Regardless, it was her fault.

Riposte returned his gaze and knelt low to face him eye-to-eye. She hoped her face conveyed the guilt sitting like a stone in her belly. “I’m sorry, J. I didn’t mean any of it.” 

“I know,” said Jupiter. He breathed in, choking on nonexistent blood. She rolled her eyes. The boy knew what Riposte’s dueling sword felt like better than he knew a broken limb. And he had suffered plenty of broken limbs. “Permit me some last words before I go?” he asked, raising his sword to the sky and following it with a wide-eyed gaze upward.

“Fine.” She still felt uneasy, but the rhythm of their banter was familiar, balming. 

He beckoned her closer. She knew this trick. He would wait until she was close enough to whisper in her ear, say something stupid, and take advantage of her reaction to sweep her legs and regain the upper hand. “Not so fast,” she said with a quick flourish of the blade in her hand. “Yield first.”

He swore.

“Sorry, do you think I’m an idiot?”

He flashed her a grin. “If I say sometimes, will you stab me again?”

“I can’t promise not to.”

“Then of course not, my dear Riposte Alaric. You’re the coolest cat on the block. The smartest cookie in the tin. Besides me, of course.”

“Are those really your last words?”

Jupiter shook himself back into theatre-kid mode, clutching the pulsing red rune hovering over his chest where the dueling sword struck him through the heart moments ago. “No… what I truly… what I want to say…”

“Oh, my God. I love you. Spit it out.”

He looked at her, wild black curls falling in his face, his gray eyes so big and pathetic she was almost impressed at the ease with which he could summon any expression he liked. 

Jupiter’s voice dropped to a whisper. He swayed, as if he were a mere thread from death. Still he held her gaze. “Cheap hot coffee?”

Relief broke over Riposte like dawn over the ocean. She grinned. “That’s more like it.”

Cheap hot coffee. Those three magic words could heal any rift in Riposte and Jupiter’s friendship, no matter how big or small. Spats and duels were not an uncommon thing between them, most often the result of a miscommunication or a lack of sleep or Riposte overworking herself for exams until she saw stars, but when the wronged party evoked the sacred phrase “cheap hot coffee,” it meant all was forgiven. It meant Riposte and Jupiter would leave the campus at the next opportunity and share a cup of dirt-cheap gas-station coffee like detectives suffering through a long stakeout. The aggressor would pay for both; the tension was swept away with a tide of new conversation topics like did you see how badly Cordelia failed at chess yesterday? or when are you going to make good on your promise to wake up at a decent time and help me study?

Worst case scenario, when they couldn’t agree on who the aggressor was, they would force the words out through gritted teeth mutually and shake on it, or the topic would fall to the wayside and never be spoken of again.

The two third-years had been tied for top of their class since their first week at Drakarth Conservatory, but they’d known each other since they could walk and talk. They’d shared a naming ceremony, the coming-of-age Inferni ritual that entailed choosing a new name that represented something you wanted to embody: an aspect of yourself that you wanted to pursue or highlight, a word you resonated with, a place or concept whose values you admired. 

Inferni already stood out from the rest of the population with their jewel-toned skin and the horns sprouting from their heads. Their dictionary-word names only distanced them more. Riposte and Jupiter were two of the handful that attended Drakarth, of the slightly larger handful that made up the population of their city. They’d always known it was them against the world — they had to stick together, at all costs.

It was Saturday, the evening air crisp with autumn and cool on Riposte’s skin. She shrugged on her favorite uniform sweater, a moth-eaten plaid number that three years of wear and tear had only made softer. It had once been almost as royal-blue as her skin, but it had faded into a pleasantly desaturated periwinkle over the years. The school’s coat of arms was embroidered expertly on the breast pocket: two hawks locked in battle, talons outstretched, surrounded by the wild roses that grew natively in the land around Drakarth and a sword and pen crossed diagonally behind them. Knowledge, honor, and might. Three core tenets upon which Drakarth had been founded. 

“They should add ‘dead students’ to those,” Jupiter had said on their first night in the dorm, poring over the school’s orientation brochure over a platter of evening breakfast foods. 

“I think that would be too on the nose,” Riposte had replied. “Besides, only the centurions have to compete yearly.”

“Yeah! And half of them die!”

“They mostly drop out, actually,” she’d said, waving a piece of bacon like a teaching stick. 

He’d returned the gesture by picking up another and waggling it back at her. “And some of them die. My point still stands.”

“They’re preparing us for war, Jupiter. The top eighty-to-one hundred students are the ones most likely to enter situations later in life that threaten their safety.”

“I mean, I guess! It’s still messed up!”

She’d shrugged, and taken a bite out of the bacon. Riposte had known she would become a Drakarth centurion from the moment her father had taken her on a school tour when she was nine years old. She’d been prepared for this; Jupiter should have been, too, given that his mothers had birthed him for exactly that purpose. Unlike her, he had no other choice. 

Riposte stuck her wallet in the pocket of her pants and trotted through a pair of oak double doors, lifting a hand to greet her big red friend as he lounged against the corridor wall. Jupiter was tall and barrel-chested, his genes gifting him natural muscle mass supported by training and a ravenous appetite. His cherry-red skin was freckled slightly from days lazing in the sun, razed with old scars across the arms. Two antelope-like horns the same shade as his skin jutted up from the top of his skull, often decorated with gold wire, paint, or stacked rings. He normally kept his wild black ringlets up out of his face in a bun that came loose the second he inevitably started roughhousing with his sports pals. Today, he’d left it down. For his take on the school uniform, he’d shrugged a black coat over a white button-down, with a dress code-violating amount of buttons undone and the royal-blue school tie conveniently missing. Riposte squinted at him. He shot back a wink. He would get away with it — the school’s top two students were shown no mercy in most areas, but the faculty couldn’t care less about dress code unless Jupiter showed up naked. 

… Which, in truth, she wouldn’t put past him.

“Bluuuuue,” whined Jupiter as she met him at the top of the co-ed dormitory’s staircase. “Did you have to skewer me in the heart?”

She cringed. “Sorry. It was instinct.”

“Sure, but —“

“But what?”

Jupiter gestured to the students passing by them on their way downstairs. The pair were accustomed to gossip and strange looks, being the top two students of the entire school and Inferni at that. But this was different. Riposte noticed a group of girls giggling where they stood clustered at the archway leading to the west wing. She looked back at Jupiter. The crimson rune pulsated over where his heart was, and his cherry-red skin was flushed an even deeper shade from embarrassment. Oh. Oh. 

She covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Jupiter—“

“You are such a dick!” exclaimed her friend, shoving her upper arm just hard enough to set her off balance. One part of the student culture that had developed at Drakarth over the years was the tendency for those who had just broken up with a partner to shove a dueling sword through their heart, leaving the red mark as a sign that they were heartbroken. Like most of Drakarth’s customs, it had begun as a genuinely tragic event, but over the years had lost the original meaning. Nowadays it meant you were looking for a rebound. Riposte had just flagged to the entire school that Jupiter, a notorious flirt and perhaps its most eligible young bachelor, had just been dumped.

She couldn’t help it. She began to cackle. Before she knew it, Jupiter was shoving her again, and Riposte was instinctively twisting an arm behind his back, though both of them were lost in a giggling fit they could not physically overcome. 

“I thought she dumped him,” a first-year muttered to her companion as they passed the flurry of chaos on the stairs. 

“What? They’re not together, Eloise.”

“I know, now —“

“No, no, no, they were never together. They’re best friends. I think they made a blood pact or something.”

“Oh. Then why are they —“

“Beats me,” the other girl said with a one-shouldered shrug. She cast one last glance back at the red and blue Inferni. Jupiter had wrestled Riposte against the railing, and she slipped into a crouch and teleported behind him with a flash of violet light. “The tops are all weird like that. You know, the last guy who graduated number one went crazy. School pushed him so hard, he just snapped.”

Riposte was nursing a goose egg by the time they got to the gas station situated on the town side of Drakarth’s half-mile bridge. Clouds had covered whatever semblance of sky the morning had gifted them, and mist hung low and sleepy over the crescent of mountains to the west. A horse-drawn shuttle carriage waited by the gate for the next trip back into the school. Many of the students had cars, but technology stopped working right at the half-mile mark, so vehicles had to be parked in the riverside lot and carriages taken the rest of the way, if you had luggage or otherwise didn’t want to walk back to campus. Drakarth had been built on what was technically an island in the middle of a lazy river that cut all the way through the countryside (which, conveniently, had earned it the nickname ‘The Cut’.) It did them well to remain isolated, and the river warded off potential hapless wanderers who could be caught up in the dangers that lurked on school grounds.

“Thanks,” said Jupiter as Riposte handed him a paper cup full of dark, bitter coffee. He liked it black, though she’d never understood why. Her own was loaded with cream and sugar, as always. The coffee at the Black Cat in town was much better, but it was also three times the price, and a deal was a deal.

 Riposte hopped up to sit on the short stone wall framing the bridge. 

“So,” she said. “All is forgiven?”

“I invoked the phrase, didn’t I?” said Jupiter.

“Yes. I’m just checking in. I’d rather not rehash this argument again because there wasn’t any closure.” 

“Blue.” Jupiter set down his coffee on the half-wall and turned around to haul himself up next to her. They were the exact same height, but his little slouch gave her rigid posture an inch or two most days. She resisted the temptation to lean her head on his shoulder. That had worked when they were younger, when she didn’t have spiraling ram’s horns curled tightly over each side of her blunt inky bob. “It’s fine,” he murmured. “I wasn’t in the right mind either.”

“It was unfair of me to say you don’t work hard. I know you do.”

“I know you know.”

“But —“

“Oi.” He nudged her with an absurdly muscled arm. “I invoked the phrase. We’re drinking the phrase. Now, let’s talk about something else, like who I can pick up with this accidental heartbreak angle you’ve got me working with.”

“Will you ever stop sleeping around?”

“Will you ever stop going to bed at ten and waking up before the sun rises?”

“It’s how my body works.”

“Then we’re on the same page, love.”

“Ugh.” Riposte scoffed, nose crinkling. The river picked up a breeze that ruffled her cropped black hair around her chin. “Eyeing anyone lately, then?”

“You know who I was thinking about? Remember that guy, Hiero-whatever? The top student who went mad from the pressure. Thinking of busting out the old yearbook and calling him up for a good time. You know what they say. The crazy ones are the best in bed.”

“Hieronymous Xenakis? I’m pretty sure he died.”

“No shit. Wait, really?”

Riposte nodded gravely. “In the Archive. My coworkers were talking about it when I was shelving the other day. His breakdown happened in three below.”

“That why they still won’t let us down there?”

“No, you oaf. They’ve never let us down there. You need a license in artifact handling. I can’t even go down there.”

“Bet my moms could.”

“I don’t doubt it,” said Riposte, slowly, half-distracted. She squinted at a growing devilish glimmer in Jupiter’s eyes. “Jupiter Heldrake,” she scolded, “you are not cooking up a scheme right now. Three below is serious! Even you would be expelled — I could get kicked out just for associating with the idiot who broke in!”

“Wow,” said Jupiter, raising his hands in surrender. “I said literally nothing.”

He was right. She huffed out a breath. “Well, I know you,” Riposte retorted before taking a long sip of her coffee, black eyes still lingering on his face. 

Jupiter gave her a strange look. “Sure,” he said. “’S what I was thinking, anyway. You read my mind, little genius.”

“Stop,” she groaned. They were words right out of his mother’s mouth. Riposte could practically relive the memory if she closed her eyes: Cecile tying bows around her then-nubby horns, affixing a mock-medal around her throat. One-horned Jury looking on, her stony face never quite smiling. Jupiter, laughing his ass off at whatever horrible, scratchy, frilly dress they’d wrangled her into. 

“Little star,” he sang. “Top of our school. Love of my life.” Good lord. The long drop to the river suddenly felt very appealing.

She transferred the coffee to her right hand purely to free up the left for a hard whack to his shoulder. “Let’s get back. It’s going to rain soon.”

[the-ipre]

WIP word train

tagged by @ghostinthelibrarywrites, thank you! the word is ANGIE

A: Another beat, and then: “Especially as it seems as though you may have made your share of enemies here.”

N: No special material is required for the paper, nor are there any incantations to be said to bind the magic to the craft.

G: "Ghost rules,” Charles says out of the blue.

I: It’s a stupid dare that the lads set him on, but he’s committed to it, and so he continues to pick his way through the underbrush and deeper into the woods.

E: Ever since she turned down his attempt to kiss her after her nightmare, he’s been so careful not to overstep, and she has the urge to see what it would take to get him to turn mean.

tagging @babyseraphim @emryses @overlord-of-chaos @williamvapespeare and anyone else who wants to participate! your word is LIGHT

[ikkaku-of-heart]

Faerie Promises and Family Claims

Once upon a time, there was a man named Tomasu who lived with his beautiful wife, Arashi, and daughter, Shiokaze. They all lived together in a little house on the edge of the Alder Wood. One summer day, Tomasu went to chop some wood when he met an old man asking for help returning to his home. Obligingly, he offered to lead the man home, so long as it did not take him from his family for too long.

The old man agreed he’d keep him no longer than three days. Kissing his wife and daughter goodbye, Tomasu set off with the old man into the Alder Wood. For three days they traveled, with Tomasu protecting his charge from fierce beasts and mysterious entities who seemed intent on hunting them. On the other side of the woods, they at last arrived at a stone tower: the old man’s home.

Finally, you’re home, Tomasu said, once the old man had crossed the threshold, the sun slowly setting over the horizon. But it took me all three blasted days to get you here. It will take me at least one more day to return to my family.

I promised I would only keep you three days, the old man replied with a strange, crooked smile. And an Envoy of the Seelie Court keeps his promises. You’ll be home before the sun sets, and as thanks for your kindness, I grant you a boon: protection for your family from faeries of both the Seelie and Unseelie Courts.

Before Tomasu could ask what the hell was going on, there was a flash of light, and he was back on the other side of the woods in front of his cottage. Overjoyed, he ran inside to greet his family, only to find things not as he had left them. To his shock, his wife and child had aged significantly, as twenty-one years had passed during his journey. Those three days of travel had been in the fey realms, and time moved differently there than among the mortals.

While Arashi embraced him happily, having never lost faith he would one day return, Shiokaze was furious, screaming at him for daring to come back after abandoning them for so long. Tomasu tried to explain that he had been tricked, but at least the reward he’d been granted would protect their family. However, Shiokaze would hear none of it and stormed off to her husband’s home miles away from the Alder Forest, vowing to never speak to her father again.

Several years later, Shiokaze was pregnant with twins. Overjoyed, she prayed for twin boys that might grow strong and never leave her like her father had. Yet when she gave birth, her brittle heart shattered. One child was a boy, but he was stillborn. The other was a girl, hearty and strong, but to Shiokaze, a poor consolation prize for the pain she’d been put through. And in her mind, the death of her son was proof that her father’s deal with the faeries had been horseshit, as one must have stolen the life from her perfect baby and left her with such an unwanted thing. So she named the girl Ikkaku, after the corpse whale known for swimming in icy waters.

Throughout her childhood, Ikkaku was told that she was both born unlucky and lucky to be born. Every unlucky incident that occurred in the village was blamed on her. Children bullied her and adults whispered about her. While Shiokaze had enough of a conscious not to kill the baby for the crime of her birth, as she grew, so did her mother’s resentment. Though she was clever and kind, Ikkaku grew up extremely neglected and mistreated. Despite her attempts to be good, obedient, and worthy of her mother’s love, the little girl never received it.

One day, Ikkaku thought she might finally have earned her mother’s affection when she was taken to the Alder Wood. With a smile, Shiokaze told her if she went deep into the forest and waited, all would be forgiven. Desperate to at last be loved, Ikkaku obediently dashed into the forest as fast as her little legs could carry her, until she couldn’t see the tree line anymore and the sun could barely peek through the canopy. It was then that she heard her mother call out to something that made her blood run cold:

I have no daughter. May the faeries take you and free me of your cursed existence.

Frightened and alone, the little girl wandered through the woods for hours, until even moonlight failed to illuminate her path. Huddled within a hollow tree, sobbing quietly, Ikkaku wished someone would find her. Someone who loved her and wanted her.

Are you lost, little Ikkaku? From the shadows, a man appeared, tall and imposing and with eyes like two blood moons and fangs as sharp as a fox’s. It is dangerous for such a pretty child to be alone in the woods. Wicked faeries might be about, waiting to make a game of you.

Who are you? Ikkaku asked, trembling with fear but unable to take her eyes off of the man. How do you know my name?

I am the Erlking, he replied, smiling and slowly approaching the shivering child, and I have known your family since your grandfather was given his boon. Yet it seems you have no family anymore. No protection. You’re all alone, aren’t you?

I…she sniffled, I am alone. Alone and unloved.

Prowling closer, like a cat who had cornered a bird with a broken wing, the Erlking purred with honeyed words, then I shall take you to my court, pretty Ikkaku. We shall play beautiful games together. I love you; I’m charmed by thy beauty, dear girl.

Crouching down, the Erlking reached towards his prey, but Ikkaku flinched away. She was too unused to affection to recognize his gestures as such. Not understanding this, however, the faerie king grew angry at her unintentional defiance. And if you are not willing, then I will use force.

Before the Erlking could make good on his threat, a furious yell rang out, and a man came charging through the woods. Tomasu had heard the voices and had come to save his lost grandchild.

The deal is still in place! Tomasu howled, swinging an iron axe at the faerie king. Though he missed, the Erlking was forced to stay out of reach of his prey. Ikkaku may not be my daughter’s family, but she’s still my family!

We shall see, the Erlking growled as he once more melted into the shadows. The Courts shall decide how strong your family claim may be. And my claim shall not for forgotten so easily.

Despite those parting words, Tomasu did not allow himself to worry; he was too busy hugging his granddaughter, promising that she was safe with him, and that he would protect her even if the faeries went back on their deal. And because Ikkaku could feel the sincere, overwhelming love and sincerity in his words, she embraced him back, grateful that her prayers had been answered.

Over the next sixteen years, Ikkaku lived with her grandfather in the stone tower that had once belonged to the Seelie Envoy who had granted their family protection decades before. They were isolated, but they had each other, and she was at last unconditionally loved. Tomasu doted on her and taught her everything he knew, from survival to academics to alchemy, so that her clever mind was filled with knowledge that might serve her well in the world. For he knew that the Seelie and Unseelie Courts could no longer be trusted. They had tricked him once, and he had little doubt that their mischief had indirectly caused the death of his wife and the misery of his daughter.

One day, after gathering wild fruits and herbs, Ikkaku returned home to find the cottage empty. Her grandfather was gone. Even the dog and cat had vanished. There was no sign of a fight, yet something inside her heart told her that they had not simply stepped out for a stroll. Running up to her grandfather’s study, she found a note which confirmed her fears.

The family protection is no longer enough. I had to make another deal, lass. I must stay in the faerie realm until the next solar eclipse, and until then, you must survive on your own. The Erlking says you’re still his to claim. The faeries will do everything they can to steal you away. Tricks, traps, promises, deals. Don’t fall for it.

If they chase you, run. But if they corner you, by gods, fight.

Though frightened by the situation, Ikkaku took Tomasu’s words to heart. The Faerie Courts would come after her, but she needed to survive – if not for her own sake, than for her grandfather who had taught her all he could and had faith in her. She would survive until the next solar eclipse – though she did not know when that would be – and be reunited with her grandfather.

But for now, as she walked out the door and past the Alder Forest, careful not to set even a foot past its branches, Ikkaku was once more alone.

[seijorhi]

Rhi!!!!!! What do you think about yandere!kageyama based off his canon haikyuu character?

who is kageyama??

[notmoreflippingelves]

Krisnix - Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibilty AU, for the prompts, please? 😉🌹

"You do not suppose me capable of real feeling-- do you, Klavier? I will admit that I do not wear my heart upon my sleeve as you do, but you are wrong to assume that it does not beat and burn and long just as fiercely as your own does. I have known of Mr. Edgeworth's prior claim for months now, and for those months, I have thought of little else than Phoe--than Mr. Wright and the regard that I still hold for him. But the family needs my strength and my resolve--not least after your own romantic disappointment--so I remain ever the sense to counterbalance your own sensibility."

Klavier said nothing in reply but placed a steady hand on his brother's shoulder, until Kristoph covered the hand with one of his own.

Send me a prompt and I'll write a 4-5 sentence drabble about it

[quinttyz]

i’d like to think that as their relationship progresses more and more,,,aloth becomes more assertive in intimate stuff??

for awhile it was mostly tempest initiating stuff :0 like actually holding hands (cough cough *KNUCKLES CLOSE ENOUGH TO BRUSH AGAINST YOURS HMP*), kissing, and almost breaching the territory of physical intimacy ,,

Tempest would notice Aloth’s kisses becoming more desperate, more yearning for her. Aloth wouldn’t notice how needy he was for his lover’s lips until Tempest felt the wall behind her. He was pushing her up against it, one hand cupping her face and the other enclosing her between him and the wall.

“Aloth-ah..please I need to breathe,” she exhales, gently pulling his lips away from her. Aloth’s eyes suddenly widen, realizing his actions.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize,” he starts, the tips of his ears already becoming redder and redder. He looks away from her, embarrassed, but he couldn’t help but stare.

Her face is flushed and her hair was all tousled up because of his fingers. She was breathing heavily, her chest rising up and down in a rhythmic pattern, hypnotizing him-

“You really like seeing me all hot and bothered for you, huh?” Tempest suddenly teases, eyeing him. She was expecting him to shy away from her flirtatious comment and vehemently deny where his eyes wandered at but, he did not back off this time;

“I do, and darling, if you would have me for tonight I would love to see more…”

[lielove]

TO HIKARU-KUN, ON YOUR BIRTHDAY...

i'm writing this as i lay awake in bed next to you, you're already sound asleep but i can't bring myself to fall asleep yet, maybe it's because of how quiet it is... maybe it's because i like laying here next to you.

i don't really know.

but hey, it'll be your fifteenth birthday in the morning... it's kinda strange but i'm actually feeling kinda... happy ?? that i'm going to be the first to say it to you. but, it feels silly when i write it out like this...

i hope you like everything i've planned for you for your birthday !! i've never had the chance to plan something like this before, and even if it's just you and me... i hope you'll still enjoy it.

we're a couple... or something close to it, at least. so i should do at least this much for you.

you're the only person that's made me feel this way. i never really imagined myself with anyone... but you like me, for some reason.

i like you too.

i got us a reservation at the restaurant we usually go to, rented a few dvds for us to watch after... i tried making a cake but it didn't really turn out that well !! so i just bought one instead.

i hope you like the gift, too -- mp3 players... or wait, i guess it's an... ipod ?? i had no idea they were so expensive...!! but i preloaded some songs i know you like on it in advance...

and then there's onnnne more but...

but, ah... that's a surprise for later... i hope you'll like it... ♡

...i can feel myself getting sleepy now. i'm surprised i haven't dropped my phone on my face !! i'll send this to you after you're up... it's ok if you want to tease me for it.

goodnight -- or i guess i should say good morning, hikaru-kun.

[MESSAGE SAVED TO DRAFTS]

[the-boy-ismine]

my exams all this week, but ill update y'all on how each one was while i cross them off my list 🎀🎀

[doomxdriven]

🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

[ireverie]

girls goon too

pairing ↠ stepbro!sunghoon x (f) reader x stepbro!heeseung

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, stepcest, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving) / face fucking, virgin! reader, dubcon

summary ↠ sunghoon can't take it anymore. you just won't stop gooning in your bedroom for all the world to hear, and he's tired of it. he's pretty sure all you do with your spare time is watch porn. heeseung suggests that he just jerks off, but his morals won't let him; until he decides that he can't hold back anymore. he has to shut you up.

wc ↠ 5.3k

a/n ↠ nohyuck version of this fic originally posted on my blog revehae. i am not plagiarizing myself. this is my apology for missing my friday night drabble post. as always, feedback is appreciated!

don’t like it, don’t read.

“she’s doing it again,” sunghoon grumbled, walking into heeseung’s bedroom. only because the door was ajar, though. he knew the sight he’d walk in on if it was completely closed would be worse than what you were surely doing.

heeseung snickered, eyes fixed on his computer. “what’s the occasion? sixth-month gooning anniversary?”

sunghoon scoffed. he didn’t know why you did it. he thought jake was bad, but you were next level. “i thought surely she would give us a break for november.”

“and she did,” heeseung quipped, moving his mouse. “for all of three days.”

that was true. for the very first three days of november, the house had been relatively quiet apart from heeseung’s shouting when he was losing. then, on the fourth day, it was back to hearing your annoyingly perfect fucking moans in the afternoon.

and god forbid your parents would be coming home late. you were relentless on those days, touching yourself to no end. sunghoon couldn’t stand it. he hated minding his business, trying to rest or work or do anything that didn’t require thinking about the sounds you were making as you persistently edged yourself.

but he couldn’t help himself. sometimes, he could hear your moans even when you weren’t there, and that was when he knew he was finally losing what little bit was left of his goddamn mind. 

heeseung, on the other hand, didn’t seem as miffed. sunghoon was certain his brother could hear the noises you were making down the hall, but he was sitting here without a care in the world, typing an email to his professor of all things. which made no sense to sunghoon, considering he knew how much heeseung liked noisy sex.

“okay, i’ll bite,” sunghoon said, crossing his arms. “how in the hell are you okay with this?”

heeseung shrugged, trying and failing to suppress a smirk. he was well aware of the fact that sunghoon always got worked up when it came to you, which was fair. you were the biggest minx this world had ever known. “well, first of all,” heeseung started, snickering again. “there’s a thing called jerking off. i’m sure you’ve heard of it. it’s really popular amongst guys we know.”

sunghoon looked almost scandalized. “i’m not jerking off to my stepsister.”

“then, you’re an idiot,” heeseung retorted. “she’s given us enough material until new years. of the year after next.”

“it’s wrong.”

heeseung rolled his eyes. “you’ve got such a stick up your ass, like a proper princess or something.”

“i’ll beat your ass, hee,” sunghoon warned. 

heeseung threw his hands up. “i’m just saying. i’m not telling you to stick her in a washing machine, bro. but the answer’s obvious. just jerk off. you know you want to.”

sunghoon sighed. had he thought about it? obviously. but he couldn’t shake how wrong it felt, even if you made him perpetually horny. “i want to smack the shit out of you right now, but i haven’t done it yet.”

rather than recoil, heeseung laughed. that asswipe finds humor in everything, sunghoon thought to himself, irritated. “and i commend your patience, man,” heeseung replied. “but it’s only making you more frustrated when you could just bust a nut and be happy.”

sunghoon was thinking about it now. well, he had thought about it countless times, but he had never allowed himself to stoop that low. you were his younger stepsister and it was his responsibility to take care of you. not picture your face as you moaned and imagine how you would feel, tight and sticky and creamy as you wrapped around his…

heeseung broke the silence, musing more so to himself, “maybe we should put her in the washing machine.”

sunghoon’s eyes flickered. “what the hell, man?”

“my bad,” heeseung replied, although he didn’t look very apologetic. “i was just thinking out loud.”

fuck, now sunghoon was picturing that too. your house had one of those washing machines that opened from the top, not the front. too many times had sunghoon seen you struggle to take your clothes out, dangling over the washing machine and nearly falling inside. he would offer to help, every now and then, but he liked watching you climb the washing machine just to get your clothes from the very bottom.

it was much more realistic for you to get stuck in it then the kinds of washing machines in porn. 

heeseung broke the silence again, still thinking. it was his greatest skill and simultaneously his worst habit. “if you’re so against it, why haven’t you just asked her to shut the fuck up then?”

that was a good question. sunghoon wasn’t the kind of guy to shy away from an altercation, not with friends and not with family. he had certainly never shown heeseung any mercy. he loved his brother, but he was annoying as all fuck.

“i see,” heeseung said, smirking. see, annoying. “it’s because you don’t really want her to stop.”

sunghoon sighed. “yeah, fine. i don’t want her to stop. happy?”

heeseung burst out laughing. always laughing, always scheming. he was going to get a stocking full of coal for christmas. “i have an idea.”

“oh, god,” sunghoon groaned.

heeseung finally pressed send on his email and turned around in his desk chair. “hear me out. we should fuck her.”

sunghoon gawked in disbelief. then again, none of heeseung’s ideas were ever truly brilliant. “you’re insane,” he murmured.

“thanks,” heeseung chirped, the insult rolling off his shoulders. “just sleep on it.”

“you know what? sure,” sunghoon replied, walking out of his brother’s room and shutting the door. he didn’t want to hear another word.

he went about his day like everything was normal, going on a walk so that he didn’t have to hear you, eating dinner and watching netflix in the living room to ignore the fact that you existed altogether. and then he went to bed.

sunghoon couldn’t fucking sleep. on it, over it, under it. he couldn’t sleep whatsoever. 

it wasn’t like you were just loudly moaning all day long, that would be absurd. but every now and then, there would be a whimper you’d let slip. sunghoon could tell that you were actually trying to be quiet. but this was one of those nights where your parents wouldn’t be back and you were taking advantage of that. again.

sunghoon decided that he was at his breaking point. the need for you was too goddamn strong and he was tired of pretending that he was better. he couldn’t ignore it anymore. he couldn’t fight it, suppress it.

he threw the blankets off his bed and went to heeseung’s room, the door closed this time. he knocked on the door and called out, “stop jerking off and get your ass out here.”

sunghoon heard a groan, one of the disgruntled sort. a few seconds later, heeseung opened the door, a scowl on his face. “what the hell, man? your voice ruined my nut.”

it was sunghoon’s turn to laugh. he clasped a hand on heeseung’s shoulder. “don’t worry. you’ll be in the mood again in no time.”

heeseung lifted a brow. “are you saying what i think you’re saying?”

sunghoon nodded. 

“we’re gonna teach her a lesson.”

“we’re gonna put her in the washing machine?”

sunghoon’s smile instantly dropped and his hand fell from heeseung’s shoulder. “why the fuck are you both so addicted to porn?” he asked.

the excited shimmer in heeseung’s eyes died a little. “no, i was… i was just kidding. let’s go.”

sunghoon sighed and started down the hall to your bedroom, deciding not to argue heeseung on that. it would be a waste of valuable time.

sunghoon knocked on the door and called out your name. “can we come in?”

there was audible shuffling as you called back, “just a moment!”

heeseung glanced over at sunghoon. “so, how we doing this?”

sunghoon looked calm, collected. as if fucking his stepsister was something he did on the regular. “just follow my lead.”

you opened the door, a towel thrown around you. but your skin looked damp with sweat, not water. your face was a little flushed. it was obvious that you were naked. “um, can i help you guys?” you asked, somewhat breathless. 

sunghoon looked you up and down subtly. heeseung, on the other hand, was damn near ogling you. the former repeated, “can we come in?”

“um, i guess,” you murmured, stepping out of the way so that they could enter your bedroom.

heeseung closed the door behind himself, not that there was anyone to worry about. it was only the three of you in the house at the moment. 

sunghoon glanced away, looking for traces of what you had been doing. he found them very quickly; your laptop shut on your bed, the blankets messily thrown on top to conceal the damp spots in your sheets, and your shirt and shorts on the floor by your bed, implying you were only in your underwear.

“is there something you guys need?” you asked, a bit annoyed at having been interrupted. 

sunghoon walked towards your desk where your laptop probably should have been, though he saw something fearful flash in your eyes. his brows furrowed, but he didn’t inquire about it. he would figure it out on his own. “do we have to need something to want to visit you?” sunghoon asked, a small smile on his face. “i haven’t seen you all day long. we just wanted to make sure you’re still alive.”

“oh, that’s… very sweet of you,” you murmured. “as you can see, i’m perfectly alive and breathing.”

“yeah, you’re breathing a lot,” heeseung commented. 

sunghoon chuckled. he moved away from your desk and instead towards your nightstand, noticing your eyes still watching him like a hawk. “relax. what’s got you so worked up?”

“i’m not worked up,” you lied, eyes darting between him and your bed. 

that was when it clicked in sunghoon’s brain. the bed. you didn’t want him to see the bed. he chuckled again, sitting down on top of it. “are you okay? you look a little… flushed.”

“yeah,” heeseung chimed in, moving your hair out of your face. you jolted. you had been paying so much attention to sunghoon that you failed to notice heeseung had creeped up behind you. “and sweaty.”

you released a shaky breath. you were nervous, but you couldn’t tell them that. because then they would start asking questions. “i’m okay, guys. you can go.”

“why are you trying to get rid of us?” heeseung asked, leaning in a little too close. “it’s almost like you’re hiding something.”

“what are you watching?” sunghoon asked, grabbing your laptop. 

your eyes widened in horror. “no, wait!” you exclaimed. you tried to stop him, but heeseung was quick to pull you back against his chest. 

sunghoon opened your laptop, being met with a twitter porn browser. he feigned surprise. “oh, wow,” he said, merely blinking. “wow.”

“what is it?” heeseung called from the other side of the room. 

sunghoon turned the laptop to face you and heeseung. “guess she’s really into… creampies, sucking dick, and doggy style.”

your face was hot with embarrassment and you thrashed in heeseung’s arms. “this is an invasion of privacy! you guys jerk off, don’t you?”

“jerk off? sure. watch porn for hours on end? no, i don’t,” sunghoon answered, setting your laptop down. he moved your blankets out of the way, revealing a few damp spots on your bed. “how long did you have to sit here for this to happen?”

you felt very exposed at the moment. like your deepest, darkest secret was steadily reaching its way around the whole world. “i’m not that bad,” you murmured, shy. 

heeseung laughed. he tugged at the towel and brought his hand to your chest, pinching your nipple. “not that bad? you almost gave poor sunghoon over there an aneurysm with how enticing you’ve been.”

your whined when heeseung squeezed your chest, tearing your gaze away from sunghoon to look up at him with wide eyes. “what are you doing?”

“fuck. yeah, that’s what i’m talking about, princess,” heeseung groaned, pressing himself against your ass. “those sweet sounds have been driving him mad.”

any other moment, sunghoon would have narrowed his eyes at heeseung and called him disgusting. but this was different. sunghoon didn’t care about what was right or wrong anymore. maybe he never truly had. what was certain right now was that any desire to behave in a morally acceptable manner was outweighed by the desire to fuck you brainless.

“bring her over here,” sunghoon said, shoving your laptop of the way to make room. 

heeseung grabbed your waist and led you towards the bed, pushing you towards his brother. sunghoon grabbed your chin, smoothing his thumb over your cheek. “gooning isn’t healthy,” he told you straightforwardly. “you know what you need?”

you glanced at him, fretful. the towel had completely fallen at this point, leaving you solely in your water, just as sunghoon had pieced together. “what?” you whispered.

“a fuck,” sunghoon replied unabashedly. “you’re so damn touch-starved. always complaining about how you want a boyfriend, but you never go out, because you’re too busy playing with your clit.”

your face was hot. honestly, they hadn’t given you the opportunity to cool down. but you had to admit that he was right. compared to how much you touched yourself, you didn’t go out enough.

“have you ever even had sex?” heeseung asked, running his hands up your thighs. 

you wanted to hide so fucking bad, but that clearly wasn’t an option. “no,” you replied, ashamed.

sunghoon snickered, because apparently that was funny. “obviously,” he said, moving his thumb to your bottom lip. ��this pretty body has gone untouched for too many years, that’s all. once you get fucked, you’ll be as good as new. worked for jake. didn’t it, hee?”

“yep,” heeseung chirped, nodding. “he was the biggest gooner i’ve ever seen. jay had so many roommate horror stories. then, we got him some pussy, and he’s all better now. actually goes outside and gets light that isn’t from his laptop.”

“so, what do you say?” sunghoon asked, turning your head back to him. “want something other than your fingers inside you?”

your heart racing. were you really about to agree to getting fucked by your stepbrothers? when it was over, you could blame it on the fact that you genuinely were touch-starved and desperate for a release for all this pent-up frustration.

and because you really, really needed to come after having avoided it for hours, you nodded your head.

“words, princess,” heeseung said, his hands still gripping your thighs as he thought about how soft they were. “say it. say, ‘i want you to fuck me, heeseung.’”

you swallowed, but you weren’t going to disobey. “i… i want you to fuck me, heeseung.”

“jeez, you don’t have to beg. i’ll do it,” heeseung replied, playful as ever. “and because it’s your first time, i think we should do missionary. is that okay, princess?”

“that’s… fine,” you murmured timidly. it didn’t really matter to you how he fucked you. you just wanted someone inside you. 

heeseung was beaming, like he had prayed for this day and it was finally happening. “good. and if you ever want me to fuck you on all fours, you know the way to my room.”

the way heeseung was looking at you was entirely overwhelming, so you glanced over at sunghoon instead, though he was also watching you intently. “what about… you?” you asked. 

sunghoon chuckled, thumb sweeping over your lips. “i don’t need to fuck your pussy. i’ll leave that to heeseung. i just want to fuck this pretty little mouth that’s been keeping me up at night.”

heeseung, growing impatient, tugged at your panties. you lifted your hips, watching him drag them down your legs. “jesus,” he murmured. “they’re fucking drenched.”

“they better be,” sunghoon replied with a chuckle, stepping out of his pants. “long as she’s probably been wearing them.”

heeseung spread your legs, wanting to get a good look at the treasure hidden between them. he moaned at the mere sight of your pussy, dripping with arousal. “fuck, you don’t even need prep,” he mused.

as if you couldn’t get any more embarrassed than you already were. they knew exactly what to say to make you want to hide your face beneath a pillow and hopefully suffocate to death.

despite his declaration about you not needing prep, heeseung couldn’t help but drag his tongue along your folds, which made you gasp in surprise. it wasn’t a tentative lick, either; he was confident and unreluctant. you were clearly sensitive, but he didn’t seem to care, eager to suck and lick at you.

“heeseung,” you whimpered, involuntarily trying to close your legs. he swore his dick twitched when you said his name like that. 

all the while, sunghoon was stroking himself beside you, half hard. for the first time thinking about you at the same time that he touched his dick, and god, he really should have done it sooner. just the thought of you made his blood pump harder. 

heeseung pulled back after a moment or two when he was finally sated. “sorry,” he apologized, completely inauthentic. “just wanted a taste.”

sunghoon tapped your cheek. “open up, baby.”

you slowly opened your mouth, wide enough for him to push inside. which sunghoon seized the opportunity to do as soon as it presented itself. he was impatient now, tired of waiting. you had tortured him long enough with those pretty noises; it was time you paid him back for tolerating your horniness.

“fuck,” sunghoon cursed upon feeling the warmth of your mouth around his cock.

heeseung snickered. it was amusing to him that only a few hours ago, sunghoon said he was insane for suggesting that they fuck you. and now here he was with his cock down your throat. a few hours could truly change a man, for worse and for better. “how’s it going?” heeseung asked.

sunghoon closed his eyes, trying to go slow before he started fucking your throat with a purpose. he didn’t necessarily want to hurt you, but damn, he was getting pretty damn close. “how do you think?” he retorted.

you watched sunghoon as he slowly moved inside your mouth, though his patience was obviously dwindling by the second. part of you wanted to see what it would look like when he lost it all, but the other dreaded it, uncertain whether or not you could handle it.

you were still a virgin, after all. in the important and unimportant ways. you had never been fucked. you had most certainly never had your throat fucked until this very moment. the furthest you’d ever gone with a boy was a little bit of groping while kissing and even that was awkward.

heeseung licked his lips, appreciating that they were coated in your arousal. “taste so good, princess,” he said, dropping his hands down to his shorts.

you would have gawked when you glanced down and noticed the dent in them, even if it weren’t for the fact that your mouth was preoccupied. when did he get so hard? 

heeseung started to undress himself, pleased now that he had gotten a taste of you and eager to be inside you. he was quick to shed his shorts and the layer underneath, unafraid to show just how desperate he was. for him, it was easy to accept his attraction to you and even easier to act on it now that he had your consent.

he climbed onto the bed, grabbing your thighs again and spreading them apart. he gave them a few affectionate, departing kisses and sat up to grab his cock, bringing it between them. “say ‘goofer gooner’ if you’re ready,” heeseung joked, knowing you couldn’t speak.

you furrowed your brows, but you couldn’t even focus on his nonsense because sunghoon was noticeably forgoing all restraint. could you blame him? your mouth was warm, alive, and everything about you seemed to drive him straight through the brink of insanity. 

“you know, sunghoon,” heeseung started, gazing down at the little distance between your bodies. “you were right. i’m already in the mood again.”

you had that effect on him, on them. heeseung knew he probably should have fought it better, but he truly saw no point. it was easier to fold and surrender to the fact that he found you infuriatingly sexy, despite your tendencies. and with nothing more to say, he slowly but surely pressed himself inside you.

heeseung tipped his head back, already moaning like a bitch and he wasn’t even fully sheathed inside you yet. “holy fuck,” he said, his grip on your thighs tightening.

you whimpered, the sound muffled by sunghoon’s cock as his balls slapped against your chin. you immediately pulsed around heeseung’s cock, clinging to him like now that he was there, you would never let him go.

“holy fuck,” heeseung moaned again, stopping for a moment as if the breath had been completely sucked out of him. “so fucking wet, my dick just slides in.”

he was damn near flabbergasted. maybe there was benefit to you gooning for hours on end, a benefit that he got to reap. he had never seen anyone this wet before, much less felt anything this wet, and it was taking a toll on him. his head was already reeling.

“okay,” heeseung said, more so to himself. he was adjusting. “okay. fuck. i’m gonna move.”

and he did, growing more and more mesmerized with every thrust of his hips. his mouth hung open, moans of your name and explicit curses dangling from his lips with a shrill touch to them that only made you even more aroused.

to say nothing of the sounds sunghoon was making, almost directly in your ear. he was so close to your face that you could explode. he was finally moving comfortably, fucking your throat with a rhythm that almost made it hard to breathe. 

though you had no intention of making him stop. you had fantasized about making yourself available for this purpose many, many times. not necessarily to your stepbrother, but well, it wasn’t like you were discriminating. especially not when he sounded so goddamn sexy and his face was tensing the way it was in pleasure.

it was strange, but you found yourself going from solely craving the experience to wanting to pleasure them. and it would appear that you were doing a fantastic job without hardly even trying, all things considered.

heeseung was gripping on your thighs for dear life as if without the support, he would get blown away into the eighth dimension. or maybe drown in how wet you were, gushing around his cock, if not for him using your soft thighs as an anchor to keep him afloat.

“this sweet fucking pussy,” he sighed, losing himself in the vice of you. he had set a pace too, fucking you without intention of stopping. with every fiber of his being, deep and hard. “i could fuck you forever.”

you could sit here and take it forever. you had never felt so full in your life. your fingers hardly did the job, always reaching just shy of where you needed them instead of completely offering you the satisfaction you’d long craved. and here heeseung was handing it to you on a silver platter.

the only problem was that you felt slightly overwhelmed with so much happening at one time in two different holes. you didn’t know who to pay attention to; sunghoon fucking your throat with a vengeance, eager to gain something out of your mouth for once, or heeseung railing you to kingdom come, making you feel hot everywhere.

you found yourself trying to juggle both, eyes flitting between them, moaning around sunghoon’s dick at heeseung’s angled thrusts and throbbing around heeseung at every guttural groan that slipped from sunghoon’s mouth. you couldn’t help yourself; it was too goddamn arousing.

sunghoon noticed how fucked out you looked, eyes rolling back to another timeline, and it was doing unimaginable things to his cock. you looked better than he could have ever imagined and he knew that he wouldn’t be satisfied until he left you hoarse and rasping.

with that thought, he grabbed your hair to push you down and started to fuck your head against the mattress rather roughly, which caught you by surprise. you tried to take it, you really did, but it was overwhelming. you could barely breathe.

“take it,” he hissed, holding your head in place. you looked pretty like this, struggling to keep up with his hectic movements.

your eyes were watering as his cock went too deep for you to handle, and you started gagging. sunghoon moaned, but pulled your head off him to let you relax for a second, a string of saliva connecting your mouth and the head of his cock.

“breathe,” he said, letting one hand run through your hair almost tenderly.

you nodded, willing yourself to relax. all the while, sunghoon marveled at how pretty you looked with saliva on your face and tears strolling down your cheeks.

“you guys okay up there?” heeseung asked from between your legs, having noticed the action. 

“we’re fine,” sunghoon answered on your behalf. he moved his hand from your hair to your cheek. “you ready?”

you nodded your head. you couldn’t shake the urge to really make him proud, to satisfy all his inappropriate cravings. it was the least you could do when you had been tantalizing him for months on end.

“good girl,” sunghoon whispered, guiding his cock back to your mouth and this time using your hair to push your head onto his cock as he fucked your throat.

you moaned at the pet name, because something about the way it sounded coming from him made your head spin. maybe you were just horny and in dire need of a fuck like he’d said. maybe after you came, all of these feelings would wear off, and you would feel somewhat sane again. 

but you couldn’t deny that you were somewhat indulging in your fantasies here. you didn’t necessarily hate the the way sunghoon was treating you, even if it was a little beyond your limits and more than a little rough. but limits were just boundaries you’d yet explored.

heeseung was a different situation altogether. your pussy was still sensitive from the hours of playing with it and you were already about to come much before him. there was a familiar heat in your stomach and festering throb of energy in your core, only more intense than you had ever experienced.

but heeseung recognized it, even without being able to hear your sweet moans of his name. he could see it in your body language and it flattered him in a way; he always felt proud when he lasted longer than the person he was fucking, especially without necessarily even trying to finish them quicker.

“she’s gonna come,” heeseung pointed out, grinning. “come for me, princess. come on this dick. you know you want to.”

it was like he your voodoo doll or something, because merely seconds after those words parted from his mouth, you were shuddering and tightening around his cock with climax, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your toes clenching.

heeseung let out the pitchiest moan ever when you throbbed around him repeatedly. words could not describe how good it felt, but sounds could. and the sounds he was making were sensational, only contributing to the mind-numbing pleasure wrecking you from within.

“goddamn,” heeseung said, mesmerized by how hard you came. it was probably warranted after hours of resisting.

but the other thing on heeseung’s mind was how much wetter your pussy sounded, sticky with your release. he whined, literally going mad. he knew that his own orgasm wasn’t far out and just the squelch of your cunt could easily finish him off.

sunghoon was facing a similar predicament, fucking your mouth without restraint and not letting you escape his thrusts. “fuck, i’m gonna come,” he groaned. “swallow it. or don’t. it’s your sheets.”

the last thing you of all people cared about was having your sheets ruined. at the moment, you were more burdened with how sore your throat felt and how overstimulated your pussy was being fucked despite having already orgasmed. it literally felt like you’d had the soul fucked out of you.

you didn’t even know it was possible at this point, but sunghoon’s hips went faster. it was a brutal but steady pace, which was somewhat admirable. he was trying to get himself there, right over the edge, knowing release was only seconds away.

with a few more smacks, sunghoon released down your throat with the sexiest groan you’d heard, one that claimed every award. when you’d milked him of every drop, his hands tight on the sides of your face, his grip on your head slacked and he slowly pulled your mouth off him.

you swallowed what you could, but he had came so goddamn much at once, it was borderline ridiculous. what you couldn’t take dripped down your chin, blending with the saliva from the messy fucking.

heeseung glanced up at you and the sight of your cum-stained face triggered something so primal in him that he knew he wasn’t going to last another minute. “princess, where do you want me to come?” he asked breathlessly.

“inside,” you replied with maybe half your voice, if even. it hurt to speak. the sound pleased sunghoon.

the thought of coming inside your pussy had heeseung levitating and was the last push he needed to bring himself past the cusp of ecstasy. his hips stuttered as he came inside you, crying out half of your name, leaning on top of you as he buried his load inside your warm, wet, gushing, sticky hole.

a satisfied hum escaped you when you felt his cum seeping inside your pussy. why did it feel so good?

“d-don’t move yet,” you whispered, because it was all you could muster.

heeseung glanced up at you, recognizing the look of pleasure on your face. if he had the energy, he would tease you about how you wanted to feel him cum inside you, but he needed to catch his breath. so he answered with a nod.

sunghoon whistled. this had gone better than he’d hoped. “well goddamn. you’re just a virgin slut aren’t you?”

heeseung chuckled breathlessly. “she took that shit like a champ. i’m impressed.”

sunghoon kissed your forehead. “you did so good,” he whispered, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “i’ll get you some water in a second.”

you nodded, appreciating the tender side after all that had just happened. your heart felt a little lighter than usual, despite its racing. you had so many questions, but you didn’t want to strain your voice. was it normal to feel like a different person after having sex for the first time?

heeseung was going to pull out, but seeing the look on your face, he decided to stay nestled inside you for a little longer. “you okay?”

you bobbed your head. “i’m good.”

heeseung snickered and teased, “whoa there, batman. what have you done with my sister?”

you rolled your eyes, but giggled. sunghoon joined in on the laughter, but he added, “don’t speak. you’ll make it worse.”

heeseung sighed contentedly. knowing that you wouldn’t say anything in response, he decided to tease, “our little gooner.”

you glared at heeseung wordlessly, conveying a lot of different things with your eyes. 

sunghoon translated playfully, “i think that means ‘fuck you.’”

“again?” heeseung joked. “what can i expect from a gooner. but hey, i guess girls can goon too.”